Kagemori returned three days later with mud on his sandals, dust clinging to the lower edges of his armor, and almost nothing worth reporting.
That was generally considered a good thing.
Interesting patrol reports usually meant someone had been robbed, murdered, kidnapped, threatened, or stupid enough to anger a group of armed men larger than their own.
Kagemori had seen enough interesting things during his years of loyalty, and as far as he was concerned, boredom was an underrated blessing.
Despite rumors, not all samurai loves war and bloodshed.
Some simply wanted to protect.
The gates opened as he approached the residence, and two guards bowed their heads as he passed.
“Kagemori-dono.
Welcome back.”
He acknowledged them with a small nod before handing his horse over to a waiting servant.
The animal looked almost as tired as he felt, although unlike Kagemori, it would at least be given food before anyone started asking it questions.
Lord Matsunaga’s residence was not particularly impressive by the standards of the great clans, but it was never meant to be.
The Matsunaga family controlled several villages, a number of roads, stretches of productive farmland, and enough armed men that neighboring lords generally thought twice before causing problems.
Their residence reflected that position well.
Wooden walls surrounded the compound, watchtowers overlooked the roads, and a central manor stood among warehouses, stables, servants’ quarters, and smaller buildings used by retainers.
Nothing was extravagant, yet everything had a purpose.
Kagemori preferred it that way, which was also one of the reasons he chose to give his loyalty to the Matsunaga family.
He removed his sandals before entering the main building and was soon directed toward the room where Lord Matsunaga received reports.
When he entered, he found his lord sitting behind a low table with several sheets of paper arranged in front of him.
There were always papers.
Land records, tax records, complaints, requests, military reports, messages from neighboring households, and lists of things that apparently could not be solved without eventually becoming Lord Matsunaga’s problem.
Kagemori sometimes suspected that being a lord mostly consisted of sitting in one place while everyone else brought you their troubles.
He knelt and waited until Matsunaga finished reading the document in his hand.
“Kagemori,” the lord finally said as he placed the paper aside.
“You were sent through the northern villages.
How are they?”
“Quiet, for the most part,” Kagemori replied.
He weight shifted slightly, settling into a slightly more comfortable position.
“There were no unusual gatherings, no signs of rebellion, and no soldiers from neighboring territories moving through the area.”
Lord Matsunaga’s eyebrow rose faintly.
“You said ‘for the most part,’ which usually means you’re preparing to tell me about the part that wasn’t quiet.”
Kagemori gave a small smile.
“Nothing especially concerning, my lord.
There were three reports of bandits.”
The lord’s expression became more attentive.
“Where?”
“Two were along the western road, while the third was north of Hama village.
I don’t believe they’re the same group.”
“Why not?”
“The western reports describe five or six poorly equipped men, mostly carrying spears and knives.
The northern group was mounted.”
Lord Matsunaga rested one hand against the table.
“Ronin?”
“Possibly, although nobody got close enough to be certain.
Four riders were actually seen, which means there may have been more nearby.”
“Four seen could mean eight unseen,” Matsunaga murmured, and his fingers tapped once against the wood.
“Send another patrol tomorrow.
I don’t want mounted bandits growing comfortable on roads we control.
And if it’s from another Daimyo,” Matsunaga glanced at the samurai.
“You know what to do.”
“Of course, my lord.”
Matsunaga glanced back down at another report.
“Anything else that matters?”
“A farmer accused another farmer of moving a boundary marker.”
The lord closed his eyes.
Kagemori’s mouth twitched.
“The same two?” Matsunaga asked.
“The same two.”
“I thought that matter was settled last month.”
“So did they, apparently, until the stone moved during the night.”
Lord Matsunaga stared at him for several seconds before sighing.
“If the stone develops legs and begins walking, I want to be informed immediately.”
Kagemori lowered his head slightly to hide his smile.
“I’ll tell the village headman to keep watch.”
“Please do.
At least then the next report may be interesting.”
“There was also a merchant who complained about the condition of the road.”
“They always complain about the road.”
“One of his wheels broke.”
“Then perhaps he should complain to whoever built his cart.”
Kagemori chuckled softly.
“That concludes everything important.”
“Good.”
Lord Matsunaga reached toward the next stack of papers, and Kagemori expected the meeting to end there.
Normally he would leave, eat something, sleep for a few hours, and eventually find out which unpleasant stretch of countryside had been assigned to him next.
Instead, Matsunaga paused before picking up the next document.
“Was there anything interesting?”
Kagemori blinked.
“Interesting, my lord?”
“Not important,” Matsunaga clarified as he leaned back slightly.
“You’ve assured me that there are no rebellions, no invading armies, and no murderous monks roaming through the villages.
Surely something unusual happened.”
Kagemori thought about that.
A drunken farmer had fallen into a drainage ditch, although that was hardly unusual.
A merchant had spent nearly half an hour insisting that his horse understood insults, which was more strange than important.
One elderly woman had spent an equally long time trying to convince Kagemori that he should marry her niece.
He was definitely not mentioning that.
Then he remembered the young man beside the road.
Ren.
Kagemori hesitated, and unfortunately Lord Matsunaga noticed immediately.
“There,” the lord said, a faintly amused expression crossing his face.
“That hesitation.
You remembered something.”
“I met a fortune teller.”
Matsunaga stared at him.
“You hesitated because you met a fortune teller?”
“Not exactly.” Kagemori rubbed at his jaw as he considered how to explain it without making the entire thing sound more important than it was.
“I’d heard of him several times before I actually met him.”
That earned a little more attention.
“From whom?”
“Villagers, mostly, although the stories came from different settlements.”
“And what sort of stories are spreading about him?”
Kagemori folded his hands loosely in his lap.
“One farmer claimed the man found his missing horse.”
“Did he?”
“Apparently he told the farmer to search near a river.”
Lord Matsunaga’s lips moved into the beginning of a smile.
“Horses drink water.”
“That was more or less the fortune teller’s argument when I mentioned it.”
Matsunaga looked at him again, this time with a trace of amusement.
“An unusually modest fraud.”
“Perhaps, although that wasn’t the only story.
A woman claimed he predicted that her brother would return safely from another village, and apparently the brother did return several days later.”
“Did the fortune teller claim he had predicted it?”
“No.
According to everyone I’ve spoken with, Ren insists he only said the man would probably return.”
Lord Matsunaga gave a quiet laugh.
“The villagers sound more convinced of his powers than he does.”
“They are.”
“And there was something else, I assume.”
“A merchant claimed Ren warned him not to use a particular road.”
Matsunaga’s eyes narrowed with mild curiosity.
“Let me guess.
The merchant ignored him.”
“Of course.”
“And then?”
“He was robbed.”
For the first time, Lord Matsunaga’s expression became genuinely thoughtful.
“Interesting.”
“Coincidence, probably.”
“Probably,” Matsunaga agreed, although his fingers had stopped moving across the tabletop.
“What does this fortune teller call himself?”
“Ren.”
“Family name?”
“None that I heard.”
“Is he a priest or a monk?”
“Neither.”
“Where is he from?”
Kagemori paused.
“He never told me.”
“How old?”
“Young.
Perhaps twenty, although I’m not particularly good at guessing ages.”
Lord Matsunaga raised an eyebrow.
“And villagers are trusting a twenty-year-old stranger with questions about their futures?”
Kagemori shrugged faintly.
“Villagers ask foxes whether their children will be boys or girls.”
“A fair point.”
The lord finally reached for his brush again, and whatever interest had briefly appeared in his expression seemed to fade.
“Should I have someone look into him?” Kagemori asked.
“If he’s moving between villages and taking payment, he could be a swindler.”
“If he’s a swindler, he’ll take a few coins from fools and eventually move on.”
“He already has.”
“Then the problem is solving itself.” Matsunaga dipped his brush in ink.
“If he begins telling villagers that the gods appointed him to overthrow me, however, you may investigate him immediately.”
Kagemori snorted quietly.
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
“Please do.”
The brush touched paper, and the conversation was clearly finished.
Kagemori bowed before standing.
“My lord.”
By the time he reached the outer corridor, the strange fortune teller had already begun fading from his thoughts.
There were more important things to worry about than a young man finding lost horses and warning merchants away from bad roads.
Five days later, another patrol returned.
Kagemori wasn’t present when the report was formally delivered, but he heard about it during dinner.
Three samurai sat around a low table while bowls of rice slowly disappeared between them.
One of the men, Noboru, had spent the previous week checking several eastern villages and had already complained about the rain, the mud, the food, and a horse that apparently hated him personally.
Kagemori listened with only half an ear until Noboru casually said, “There’s some diviner wandering around the eastern villages.”
Kagemori stopped chewing.
Noboru noticed and leaned slightly forward.
“You know something about him?”
“Possibly.
Is he a young man named Ren?”
Noboru’s eyebrows rose.
“You’ve actually met him?”
“On the road.”
The man laughed as though Kagemori had just confirmed the existence of a particularly entertaining ghost story.
“So he really does exist.
I thought the villagers were exaggerating.”
“They probably are.”
“They say he found a merchant’s missing wagon.”
Kagemori rubbed his forehead.
“I highly doubt he found a wagon.”
“You haven’t even heard the story yet.”
“I’ve heard enough stories about him to guess how this one ends.”
Noboru grinned.
“Apparently the wagon was separated from a merchant’s group somewhere south of the village, and someone suggested asking the fortune teller.
Ren told them to search farther south, and eventually they found it.”
Kagemori stared at him.
“If the wagon was already traveling south, then telling them to search south is not sorcery.”
“That’s more or less what I thought.”
The third samurai, who had been quietly eating beside them, raised his head.
“How does someone lose an entire wagon?”
“With impressive dedication,” Noboru replied.
Kagemori snorted despite himself.
Noboru took another drink before continuing.
“Whatever he’s actually doing, people are talking about him.”
“People always talk.”
“Yes, but they’re talking about this one across several villages.”
That made Kagemori pause.
Rumors usually remained local unless they were especially strange, frightening, or useful.
A farmer in one village had little reason to care that someone three settlements away had guessed where a horse might be drinking.
Yet Ren’s name had moved.
Kagemori had heard it several times before meeting him, and now Noboru had encountered the same stories independently.
It was curious.
Still probably unimportant, but curious.
Four days later, Lord Matsunaga heard Ren’s name again.
This time Kagemori was present for the report.
Another patrol had returned with the usual collection of minor troubles: a damaged bridge, two suspicious travelers, an argument over grazing land, and absolutely no signs that anyone intended to start a war that week.
Near the end of the report, however, one of the younger samurai shifted awkwardly before adding, “There was also a fortune teller staying in one of the villages.”
Lord Matsunaga looked up immediately.
“Ren?”
The samurai blinked.
“You’ve heard of him, my lord?”
Kagemori watched a subtle change pass across Matsunaga’s face.
It wasn’t belief.
It was recognition.
“Apparently everyone has,” the lord said.
“What did he do this time?”
The samurai scratched lightly at his cheek.
“People seemed to like him.”
“That alone is suspicious.”
Kagemori lowered his gaze so the younger man wouldn’t see him smiling.
The samurai continued, slightly uncertain now.
“They said he answers questions about the future.”
“Yes,” Matsunaga replied dryly.
The young man flushed.
Kagemori decided to help before the poor man became too embarrassed to finish.
“Did you hear anything we haven’t already heard?”
“One man asked Ren whether he should sell his horse.”
Matsunaga waited.
The samurai hesitated.
“He told the man not to.”
“And what happened afterward?”
“The man didn’t sell it.”
Silence settled over the room.
Lord Matsunaga slowly turned toward Kagemori.
Kagemori lifted one shoulder.
“You did ask us to report interesting rumors.”
“I am beginning to regret that decision.”
The younger samurai coughed into his fist.
“There was something else, my lord.”
Matsunaga looked back toward him.
“Please tell me it involves something more dramatic than a horse remaining where it already was.”
“A merchant said Ren has strange cards.”
Kagemori’s interest sharpened.
“Cards?”
“Apparently he lays them out while telling fortunes.”
“Playing cards?”
“I couldn’t say.
I didn’t see them myself.”
Lord Matsunaga considered that before nodding.
“Very well.
Is there anything else?”
“No, my lord.”
“Then go.”
The samurai bowed and left, and the room fell quiet again.
Lord Matsunaga reached for another report, but Kagemori remained where he was.
After several seconds, the lord sighed.
“You’re staring at me.”
“I’m wondering whether you’re still completely uninterested.”
“In a wandering fortune teller?”
“In a man whose name has now appeared in reports from three different patrols.”
Lord Matsunaga stopped.
Kagemori saw the shift immediately.
The fortune telling itself did not matter much, but reputation did.
Strangers who became known across several villages could sometimes become problems.
Preachers gathered followers.
Monks gathered followers.
Bandits gathered followers, and on rare occasions rebels began as nothing more than travelers with persuasive stories.
Rumors were harmless until they weren’t.
“Has he asked anyone to follow him?” Matsunaga asked.
“Not that I’ve heard.”
“Has he demanded large payments?”
“No.
Small payments sometimes, but apparently he’ll take food as well.”
“Political statements?”
“None.”
“Religious claims?”
“None.”
“Has he claimed divine favor or said that some god chose him?”
Kagemori smiled faintly.
“Quite the opposite.
He seems irritated whenever people suggest he’s particularly gifted.”
That earned a genuine laugh.
“Then perhaps he’s merely strange.”
“That’s still possible.”
Lord Matsunaga returned his attention to the report in front of him.
“Keep listening, but don’t waste men following him.
If his name continues spreading, we’ll reconsider.”
Kagemori nodded.
That was all.
Ren remained an interesting rumor and nothing more.
For nearly two weeks, nothing changed.
The message arrived shortly before noon.
Kagemori was in the training yard watching two younger retainers beat each other with wooden weapons.
One was too aggressive, and the other was so cautious that he seemed determined to lose without ever technically making a mistake.
Kagemori suspected both would finish the afternoon bruised and convinced the other one was responsible.
A servant hurried across the courtyard.
“Kagemori-dono.”
Kagemori turned and immediately noticed the servant’s expression.
“My lord requests you.”
“Now?”
“Immediately.”
The urgency in the man’s voice removed any temptation to joke.
Kagemori set the wooden weapon in his hand aside.
“Understood.”
He followed the servant toward the main building and noticed the change in atmosphere before he even reached Matsunaga’s chamber.
People were moving faster than usual, but they were doing it quietly.
That was rarely a good sign.
When Kagemori entered the chamber, Lord Matsunaga was standing beside the low table rather than sitting behind it.
That was the first thing he noticed.
The second was the letter in Matsunaga’s hand.
A broken seal lay nearby.
The third was his lord’s expression.
Not fear.
Not anger.
Something colder and far more controlled.
Calculation.
Kagemori knelt.
“My lord.”
“Get up.”
He rose immediately.
Matsunaga read the letter once more, his eyes moving slowly across the page, while Kagemori waited in silence.
Years of service had taught him that interrupting a lord while he was reading bad news rarely improved the situation.
Eventually, Matsunaga lowered the paper.
“Kagemori, I want you to find Ren.”
For a moment, Kagemori wondered whether he’d misheard.
“The fortune teller?”
“Yes, the fortune teller.”
Kagemori’s eyes flicked toward the letter before returning to his lord.
Something of his curiosity must have shown because Matsunaga immediately shook his head.
“Don’t ask yet.”
Kagemori straightened.
“Understood.”
“I want him brought here.”
“Should I treat it as an order?”
“No,” Matsunaga replied immediately.
“Invite him.”
Kagemori considered that.
“And if he refuses the invitation?”
“Ask him again,” There was a brief pause before Matsunaga added.
“Politely.”
That was somewhat reassuring.
“I’ll find him.”
Kagemori bowed before turning toward the door, but Matsunaga spoke again before he could leave.
“Kagemori.”
He stopped.
The lord’s fingers tightened slightly around the folded message.
“If you find him, tell him I want him included in an investigation.”
Kagemori glanced once more at the letter, then back at his lord.
“Understood.”
*****
Ren’s first thought when he saw Kagemori again was that the universe had developed a personal dislike for him.
His second thought was that Kagemori had brought two other samurai with him, which made the situation considerably worse.
Ren was standing near the edge of a village with a piece of dried fish in one hand when the three mounted men approached.
He slowly lowered the fish.
“No.”
Kagemori’s eyebrows rose as he brought his horse to a stop.
“I haven’t actually asked you anything yet.”
“You don’t need to.”
“That’s an impressive use of divination.”
“It isn’t divination.
You’re a samurai who serves a lord, you told me we might meet again, and now you’ve returned with two armed men.”
Kagemori looked over his shoulder toward his companions, both of whom were visibly trying not to laugh.
When he turned back, there was a faint smile on his face.
“When you describe it that way, I admit the situation sounds somewhat threatening.”
“It sounds exactly as threatening as it looks.”
Kagemori dismounted and handed the reins to one of the other men.
“My lord would like to speak with you.”
There it was.
Ren closed his eyes briefly.
He had known something like this might eventually happen.
Reputation was useful right until someone with soldiers started paying attention to it.
“Why does your lord want to speak with me?”
Kagemori’s expression lost some of its humor.
“I wasn’t given permission to explain the entire matter on the road.”
“Which means you know something.”
“I know part of it.”
“And you’re not going to tell me.”
“Not yet.”
Ren looked past him toward the two mounted men.
“Suppose I refuse.”
Kagemori scratched lightly at his jaw.
“My instructions were to ask you again.”
“And if I refuse twice?”
“I was specifically told to ask politely.”
Ren stared at him.
Kagemori’s mouth twitched.
“I wasn’t given instructions beyond that.”
“That’s not nearly as comforting as you seem to think.”
“It wasn’t intended to be.”
Ren exhaled slowly.
“Give me a moment.”
Kagemori gestured toward a tree beside the road.
“Take several.
We’re not dragging you anywhere.”
That was reassuring enough for Ren to walk a short distance away and sit beneath the tree.
He opened his bundle.
This was exactly the sort of situation he had hoped to avoid.
Angering a village headman could make life difficult.
Angering a samurai could make life dangerous.
Angering a lord could make entire roads, settlements, and regions unpleasant places for him to exist.
Refusing the invitation might draw more attention than accepting it, but accepting meant voluntarily walking into whatever problem had caused a lord to send three armed men after a fortune teller.
Neither possibility appealed to him.
Ren took out his pendulum.
Simple questions first.
He held it steady and focused.
“Will traveling with Kagemori place me in immediate mortal danger?”
The pendulum remained still for a few heartbeats before slowly moving.
No.
Ren’s shoulders loosened slightly.
“Will Lord Matsunaga deliberately attempt to harm me during this meeting?” Again, the answer was no.
Better.
He changed the wording.
“Will accepting this invitation create danger for me?” This time the pendulum hesitated before swinging.
Yes.
A weak yes, but a yes nonetheless.
Ren stared at it.
“Of course it will.”
He tried another.
“Will refusing the invitation create danger for me?” Yes.
Ren let the pendulum drop into his palm.
From the road, Kagemori called, “I’m guessing the expression on your face means the answer wasn’t especially helpful.”
“It means my life continues to be irritating.”
“Is that good news or bad news?”
“Neither, which somehow makes it worse.”
Kagemori laughed.
Ren put the pendulum away and reached for his sticks.
He focused on the choice between remaining where he was and traveling with the samurai.
When he cast them, the result pointed toward the road.
Ren frowned and repeated the process.
The answer remained the same.
Road.
“Fine,” he muttered.
He packed the sticks away, but his fingers paused over the small wooden case holding his cards.
They had changed again.
Twenty-eight now.
Two had been added over the past few weeks.
Duty.
And Betrayal.
The second was a recent addition, created after Ren passed through several villages where people had accused relatives, neighbors, spouses, and business partners of violating their trust.
At first, he’d thought Conflict was enough.
It wasn’t.
People could be in conflict while remaining loyal.
Betrayal required something more specific.
Trust had to exist first.
Ren shuffled the cards.
He focused on a single question and repeated it multiple times in his head.
What awaits me if I accept Lord Matsunaga’s invitation?
The first was Authority.
Ren stared at it and sighed.
“That was obvious.”
The second card was Hidden.
His expression darkened slightly.
The third was Choice.
Ren looked at the three cards for a while.
Authority.
Something concealed.
A decision.
They did not tell him much, but nothing among them suggested that he was about to be immediately imprisoned or killed.
That was about as reassuring as divination seemed willing to be.
Ren returned the cards to their case and stood.
Kagemori watched him approach.
“Have you reached a decision?”
“I’ll go with you.”
“Good.”
“But I reserve the right to complain the entire way.”
Kagemori smiled.
“I would honestly be disappointed if you didn’t.”
The journey took most of the day.
Ren walked.
The samurai rode.
He considered this deeply unfair.
Kagemori eventually noticed Ren repeatedly looking at his horse.
“What are you staring at?”
“Nothing important.
I’m merely appreciating the difference in our social positions.”
Kagemori glanced down at him.
“Would you like the horse?”
“May I?”
“No.”
Ren frowned.
“Then why did you ask?”
“I was trying to make conversation.”
“You’re very bad at it.”
The two other samurai laughed behind them.
Despite himself, Ren relaxed slightly.
Kagemori was still armed and still acting on the orders of someone much more powerful than Ren, but he wasn’t behaving like someone escorting a prisoner.
That mattered.
As they traveled, Ren attempted to learn more.
“Is your lord currently at war?”
“Not at the moment.”
“Does he have enemies?”
Kagemori gave him a sidelong look.
“He’s a lord.”
“So yes.”
“Very good.”
Ren stepped around a muddy patch in the road.
“Has someone threatened him recently?”
“Not exactly.”
“Did something valuable get stolen?”
“No.”
Ren considered the answer, then looked toward Kagemori again.
“Did someone disappear?”
There was the slightest pause.
Kagemori’s expression barely changed, but Ren caught it.
His Spirit Vision made the reaction even easier to notice.
Concern.
Ren looked ahead again.
Kagemori sighed.
“Stop doing that.”
Ren glanced back.
“Doing what?”
“Looking at my face as though you’ve already discovered something.”
“I don’t know the answer.”
“You suddenly looked satisfied.”
“I learned something.”
“From my expression?”
“Partly.”
Kagemori’s eyes narrowed as a suspicious look settled across his face.
“That’s unpleasant.”
“So I’ve been told.”
They continued down the road, and Ren decided not to press further.
He already knew enough.
Someone was missing.
Probably someone important enough that Lord Matsunaga cared personally or politically, and important enough that hiring—or summoning—a fortune teller had become worth considering.
Ren wasn’t sure whether he should feel flattered.
He decided that was probably a bad idea.
*****
Lord Matsunaga’s residence came into view near sunset.
Ren slowed slightly as the walls appeared ahead.
He had seen samurai residences before, but always from a distance.
Entering one was a different matter entirely.
The walls reminded him of something he had become comfortable ignoring while living among ordinary villagers.
Power.
In the village, Ren had gradually learned everyone’s place.
The old shopkeeper had influence because people relied on him and because his family had connections.
The village headman possessed authority.
Farmers had relatives, neighbors, and relationships that tied everyone together.
Ren understood those limits.
Here, he understood nothing.
The men guarding the gate carried spears.
They bowed to Kagemori when he approached, but Ren received only a brief assessing glance.
That told him enough.
He followed Kagemori through the compound.
Servants moved quickly between buildings, while armed retainers crossed the courtyards with the confidence of men who belonged there.
Ren suddenly became very aware of his clothing.
It was poor.
It had always been poor.
He simply noticed it more here.
Kagemori glanced back at him.
“Nervous?”
“Not at all.”
Kagemori’s mouth curled.
“You’re a terrible liar.”
Ren gave him a flat look.
“I’m extremely nervous.”
“Good.”
Ren sighed.
“Why does everyone keep saying that whenever I admit I’m afraid?”
“Fear keeps men polite.”
“I was already polite.”
Kagemori actually considered that before shaking his head.
“No, you weren’t.”
Ren stared at him, but Kagemori had already turned away.
Ren was eventually brought into a small chamber.
Lord Matsunaga was waiting there with four other men.
Kagemori immediately knelt, and Ren copied him perhaps half a heartbeat too late.
He hoped nobody noticed.
Everyone noticed.
Fortunately, nobody said anything.
Lord Matsunaga studied him for several moments.
Ren found the floor suddenly fascinating.
“So you’re Ren.”
“Yes, my lord.”
That seemed like the safest possible response.
“I’ve heard quite a few stories about you.”
Ren resisted the instinct to apologize for them.
“Most are probably exaggerated.”
One of the retainers looked mildly surprised.
Lord Matsunaga smiled faintly.
“Kagemori said you would answer like that.”
Ren glanced sideways.
Kagemori wore an expression of perfect innocence.
The lord gestured for Ren to settle more comfortably.
“I won’t waste your time.
One of my retainers has disappeared.”
Ren kept his expression neutral.
There it was.
“His name is Saburo,” Lord Matsunaga continued.
“Nine days ago, he left this residence carrying a sealed letter intended for an allied household two days west of here.”
Ren glanced toward the lord.
“Was Saburo traveling alone?”
“Yes.”
“And was that normal for him?”
“It was.”
“What road was he expected to take?”
Before Matsunaga could answer, an older retainer with a scar across one cheek spoke.
“The southern road.
Saburo had used it many times.”
Ren looked toward him.
“Was the road considered safe?”
The man’s mouth tightened.
“No road is truly safe.”
“Fair enough.
Was there anything unusual about this particular journey?”
Lord Matsunaga shook his head.
“Not when he departed.
He was expected to deliver the letter and return within five days.”
“But he didn’t return.”
“No.”
The lord’s expression hardened slightly.
“Three days ago, I sent a message to the household asking whether Saburo had been delayed there.
Their response arrived this morning.”
Matsunaga placed a folded letter on the table between them.
“Saburo never arrived.”
Ren looked at the letter.
“What happened to his horse?”
“We don’t know.”
“And the letter he was carrying?”
“Also missing.”
“Has anyone found a body or signs of a fight?”
“Nothing.”
Ren let the information settle.
“So the only thing you’re certain of is that Saburo left here carrying the message and never reached the place he was supposed to go.”
“That is correct.”
“Does anyone know exactly which route he followed after leaving?”
Kagemori answered this time.
“There are two common routes heading west.
Saburo normally took the southern one because it was faster.”
Ren turned toward him.
“And what makes the other route different?”
“It goes farther north before turning west.
It’s slower, although some merchants consider it safer during bad weather.”
Ren nodded slowly.
“Do you believe Saburo was attacked?”
The room became quieter.
The scarred retainer spoke again, his eyes hardening as he looked toward Ren.
“We believe he fled.”
Ren studied him.
“Why?”
“He knew what he carried.”
“What was in the letter?”
“That isn’t relevant.”
Ren’s gaze shifted toward Lord Matsunaga.
The lord’s expression remained unreadable.
Ren understood immediately that he wasn’t getting that answer.
“Very well.
Did Saburo have debts?”
“No,” the scarred man replied.
“Enemies?”
“Everyone acquires enemies eventually.”
“Family?”
“A wife and two children.”
“Do they live here?”
“Nearby.”
Ren rested his hands on his knees.
“Did he take anything unusual with him before leaving?”
The scarred man’s expression shifted.
That was enough to make Ren pay attention.
“Money,” the man finally said.
“More than he would normally take?”
“Yes.”
“How much more?”
“Enough to support himself for several weeks.”
Interesting.
Ren looked toward Matsunaga.
“Did Saburo tell anyone why?”
“No.”
“Was his behavior unusual before he left?”
Kagemori shook his head.
“Nobody we’ve spoken with noticed anything.”
Ren remained silent for a moment.
Then he asked the question that mattered most.
“What exactly do you want me to determine?”