Tale of the Warrior Geisha by Margaret Dilloway Read Free Book Online Page B

away from them, leading his horse to his farm. “See what I mean? She’s already in charge of you lot.” He walked away without a backward glance.
    â€œWada, wait. I thought . . .” Tomoe trailed off. She didn’t know what she had thought. But it was clear Wada’s feelings were hurt when she stopped him from defending her. She appreciated his efforts. They were just unnecessary.
    It did not matter. Wada wasn’t serious about her. He was too set on leaving this place. Tomoe would never fit into his plans. Besides, he shouldn’t be so easily dissuaded by a comment from her. She put her chin high, a single tear mingling with the rain.
    Their father, Kaneto, stood on the perimeter of the fenced yard near the house, arguing with a well-dressed bald man on horseback. Behind this man were three big men with a horse harnessed to a carriage. Tomoe recognized the man on horseback as the tax collector of the local governor, the
shugo
. Every year, the tax collector showed up to collect the rice owed the governor.
    â€œThat’s three times as much as last year!” Kaneto’s beard seemed to stand on end in his agitation. “I will barely be able to feed my family, let alone have any left to sell.”
    The tax collector stared off into the distance. “You would do well to adhere to the law. Some of your neighbors haven’t had the wisdom.”
    Tomoe stopped where she was. He had to be talking about the Wada family. Wada’s father had long complained about the rice tax, and their crops had been poor this year. They’d hardly had any goods to trade for the rice.
    â€œHow many do they owe?” Kaneto asked.
    â€œThey are fifty pounds short.”
    Kaneto made a slicing motion through the air. “But perhaps the Taira can see fit to repair our roads? The one to Miyako has been nearly impassable for two years. It’s still covered in fallen trees from last winter! Why do we pay for things we never see or use?”
    â€œThere are many things to govern besides roads.” The tax collector frowned. The three big men moved imperceptibly forward. Tomoe thought of the swordmaker, and her stomach tensed. She and the boys spread out, eyeing the men. Yoshinaka glanced at Tomoe, then at the smallest man. She would take that man on.
    â€œFeeding the fat bureaucrats in the capital.” Kaneto saw Tomoe and the boys. He paused at the sight of Yoshinaka’s face, but said nothing except, “Boys, go to the barn and get twelve more bags of rice. No. Thirteen. To help cover our neighbor.”
    Tomoe’s heart lifted. Wada’s family would not be in trouble after all.
    â€œThirteen, Father?” Kanehira’s eyes darted from his father to the man on horseback. “We only have twenty at the moment. Can we get through the rest of the year with only seven?”
    â€œDo not question. Go!” Kaneto barked.
    Kanehira and Yoshinaka ran off.
    Tomoe began to walk past with Yuki, intending to put her horse away. She hoped the rice would be enough and the Wada family wouldn’t be punished.
    She felt the strangers watch her as she went by. She kept her eyes on the ground, treading carefully on the muddy path, stepping over a steaming pile of straw-studded horse dung.
    â€œI didn’t know you were training
onnamusha
, Kaneto-san,” the tax collector remarked from the back of his horse. Tomoe’s nostrils flared. The hand that gripped the
naginata
tightened. With one movement, without much effort, she could behead this man. But what good would it do? They’d send someone else in his place.
    No, she had to cut off the head of the snake. Not this powerless minion.
    â€œLet me look at you.” The tax collector stuck his muddy foot in front of her chest. She froze, trembling. An outsider would think she was afraid, but she was fighting the urge to lop off this appendage. She cast a pleading look at Kaneto. He did not look at her,