Kill the Shogun by Dale Furutani Read Free Book Online Page B

night the vegetable merchant came back to his house. The dice had not been kind to him, and he was fretting about how he would ever find the money to pay his mounting gambling debts, now owed to two different gambling bosses in Edo. The late hours for gambling were not compatible with his early rising to buy vegetables, and he wondered if the problem was that he was just showing poor judgment in his bets, instead of a run of bad luck.
    His house was on a main street of the district, well situated for its dual role as abode and shop. Earlier, the street had been illuminated by lanterns helping customers find drinking establishments and shops that stayed open late, but except for a single drinking place on the corner, the entire street was now dark, with light coming only from his own house.
    The merchant couldn’t imagine his wife staying up late for him. Disgusted with his gambling, she had long since stopped waitingup for him like a dutiful wife, keeping the food and rice warm, to serve him upon his arrival.
    As he approached his house, he noticed that some of the light was spilling out from a newly formed hole in the wall. Concerned, he quickened his steps to see what was going on.
    “
Tadaima!
I’m home,” he announced as he slid back the sliding door of his house. He entered the small dirt entryway. The rest of the house was built on a wooden platform, above the ground, and the entry was a place to sit on the platform and take off his hemp sandals. Several heads spun around to look at him as he entered. The only person who didn’t react to his entry was the street entertainer he recently rented the upstairs room to. He sat serenely by a clay hibachi, sipping tea. Next to him was the merchant’s wife and his servant, apparently serving him. The merchant would have been upset by this special favor to the renter, if it wasn’t for the three others in the room.
    The three sat with their legs splayed out in front of them in the space the merchant used as his shop when the weather was too bad to display the vegetables outside. They sat in a rough triangle, with their backs together. A length of sturdy hemp rope was wrapped and tied around them, securely keeping them in place.
    He recognized them immediately. They were Boss Akinari’s men. Even with them tied securely, the merchant started to quake, and he sat at the edge of the house platform in weakness, temporarily too shaky to take off his sandals.
    “How… how… ?” he stammered.
    The renter looked up from his tea. “How what?” he asked, in a tone that made it seem like it was unusual for the merchant to be stupefied by three men tied up in his house.
    “What… what… ?”
    The renter sighed. “You really must complete a question if you expect us to answer it,” he said.
    The merchant sucked in his breath through his teeth, a characteristic gesture when some Japanese are nervous. He said, “What are these men doing here?”
    “They came to see you,” the renter said. He put down his teacup and stood up, holding his sword in one hand.
    “Where are you going?” the merchant said quickly, a touch of fear in his voice.
    “I’m going back to bed. These men came to see you. Now you are here. I suggest you talk to them, because they seem to be here on serious business.” Kaze turned and took a few steps up the stairs. He stopped. “Oh, I suggest you keep them tied until you have completed your discussions with them. You had better make sure that they’re happy with the result of your discussions, because they can play rough.”
    “Hey! Samurai!” The big wrestler was addressing Kaze. Kaze thought briefly of denying he was a samurai and decided it would be a rather foolish denial after what he had done to the three toughs.
    “What is it?” Kaze asked mildly.
    “What’s your name?”
    Kaze thought before answering that question, and decided to give the name he had used with the family.
    “I’m Matsuyama Kaze.”
    “I’m Nobu,” the wrestler