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you. But I
could not protect this district against a gang of bandits. What hope would I
have against an army the size of yours?”
    “I am grateful to you.” I decided to ignore his tone, attributing
it to grief. But I wondered at the scarcity of troops and supplies, the obvious
weakness of the town, the impudence of the bandits. Arai must barely hold this
country; the task of subduing the remnants of the Tohan must be taking up all
his resources.
    Niwa provided us with sacks of millet and rice, dried fish, and
soybean paste, and these were distributed to the men along with the farmers’
offerings. In their gratitude the townspeople welcomed the army and gave what
food and shelter they could. Tents were erected, fires lit, horses fed and
watered. I rode around the lines with Makoto, Amano, and Jiro, half-appalled at
my own lack of knowledge and experience, half-amazed that in spite of it my men
were settled down for the first night of our march. I spoke to the guards Kahei
had set and then to Jo-An and the outcasts who had camped near them. An uneasy
alliance seemed to have grown up between them.
    I was inclined to watch all night too—I would hear an approaching
army long before anyone else—but Makoto persuaded me to go back and rest for at
least part of the night. Jiro led Shun and the chestnut away to Niwa’s stables,
and we went to the living quarters.
    Kaede had already been escorted there and had been given a room
with Niwa’s wife and the other women of the household. I was longing to be
alone with her, but I realized there would be little chance of it. She would be
expected to sleep in the women’s room, and I would be with Makoto and Kahei,
several guards, and probably next door to Niwa and his guards too.
    An old woman, who told us she had been Niwa’s wife’s wet nurse,
led us to the guest room. It was spacious and well proportioned, but the mats
were old and stained and the walls spotted with mildew. The screens were still
open: On the evening breeze came the scent of blossom and freshly wet earth,
but the garden was wild and untended.
    “A bath is ready, lord,” she said to me, and led me to the wooden
bathhouse at the farther end of the veranda. I asked Makoto to keep guard and
told the old woman to leave me alone. No one could have looked more harmless,
but I was not taking any risks. I had absconded from the Tribe; I was under
their sentence of death; I knew only too well how their assassins could appear
under any guise.
    She apologized that the water would not be very hot, and grumbled
about the lack of firewood and food. It was in fact barely lukewarm, but the
night was not cold, and just to scrub the mud and blood off my body was
pleasure enough. I eased myself into the tub, checking out the day’s damage. I
was not wounded, but I had bruises I had not noticed getting. My upper arms
were marked by Jin-emons steel hands—I remembered that all right—but there was
a huge bruise on my thigh already turning black; I had no idea what had caused
it. The wrist that Akio had bent backward so long ago at Inuyama and that I’d
thought had healed was aching again, probably from the contact with Jin-emon’s
stone bones. I thought I would strap a leather band around it the following
day. I let myself drift for a few moments and was on the point of falling
asleep when I heard a woman’s tread outside; the door slid open and Kaede
stepped in.
    I knew it was Kaede, by her walk, by her scent. She said, “I’ve
brought lamps. The old woman said you must have sent her away because she was
too ugly. She persuaded me to come instead.”
    The light in the bathhouse changed as she set the lamps on the
floor. Then her hands were at the back of my neck, massaging away the
stiffness.
    “I apologized for your rudeness, but she said that where she grew
up, the wife always looked after the husband in the bath, and that I should do
the same for you.”
    “An excellent old custom,” I said, trying not to groan