The atmosphere changed.
This was the question beneath all the others.
Lord Matsunaga leaned forward slightly, and although his voice remained calm, Ren could sense the tension underneath it.
“I want to know whether Saburo betrayed me.”
Ren felt an uncomfortable weight settle in his stomach.
That was very different from asking where Saburo had gone.
It was different from asking whether he was alive.
And it was very different from asking what had actually happened to him.
The memory of Otsu, Matsuo, and the missing coins returned almost immediately.
A question could contain assumptions long before anyone tried answering it.
Ren chose his words carefully.
“I can investigate, but I can’t promise that divination will give the answer in the form you’re expecting.”
The scarred retainer frowned.
“You’re supposed to be a seer.”
“I am.”
“Then surely you can answer a question.”
Ren met his gaze.
“I can attempt to answer one, but there’s a difference between receiving information and understanding what that information means.”
The man’s eyes narrowed.
Lord Matsunaga raised one hand before he could respond.
“What do you need?” the lord asked.
“A personal belonging would help.
Something Saburo used often.”
Kagemori glanced toward one of the servants, who immediately left the room.
Several minutes later, the man returned carrying a small wooden box.
Inside lay a writing brush.
Ren picked it up carefully.
“Saburo’s?”
Kagemori nodded.
“He used it for years.”
“That should be enough.”
Ren closed his eyes.
The room seemed to fade around him as he focused on the brush.
On the person who had held it.
On the faint connection left behind by repeated use.
At first there was nothing.
Then something shifted.
Movement.
Distance.
A sense of urgency.
Ren’s fingers tightened slightly around the brush.
There was something else too.
Fear.
Not his own.
His eyes opened.
Everyone was watching him.
The scarred retainer leaned forward.
“Did you see something?”
“Not clearly,” Ren answered.
“But Saburo was afraid.”
The man scoffed.
“That proves very little.”
“I didn’t say it proved anything.”
Ren placed the brush on the table and took out his pendulum.
Lord Matsunaga watched the movement with obvious interest.
“So that’s one of your tools.”
“One of them.”
Ren positioned the pendulum above Saburo’s brush and forced himself to slow his breathing.
Precise questions.
No assumptions.
“Did Saburo leave this residence voluntarily?”
The pendulum moved.
Yes.
The scarred retainer’s jaw tightened.
Ren ignored him and continued.
“When Saburo departed, did he intend to deliver Lord Matsunaga’s letter to its intended recipient?”
The pendulum moved again.
Yes.
That produced a different reaction.
Kagemori’s brow furrowed, while Lord Matsunaga remained still.
Ren adjusted the question.
“Was Saburo attacked before reaching his destination?”
The pendulum hesitated before moving.
No.
Ren frowned.
“Was Saburo physically forced to abandon the route he originally intended to take?”
Another hesitation.
Then no.
The room grew noticeably quieter.
Ren swallowed before asking the next question.
“Did Saburo willingly leave the route he was expected to follow?” Yes.
The scarred retainer exhaled sharply.
“That confirms it.”
Ren lifted one finger without looking at him.
“It confirms that he changed direction willingly.
Nothing more.”
The man’s expression darkened, but he remained silent.
Ren continued.
“At the time Saburo changed his route, did he still intend to serve Lord Matsunaga faithfully?”
The pendulum trembled.
Ren watched it carefully.
It moved one way, slowed, shifted again, and finally came to rest.
No clear answer.
Ren frowned.
Lord Matsunaga noticed immediately.
“What happened?”
“The result isn’t stable.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means I don’t have a reliable answer to that question.”
The scarred retainer looked irritated.
“Convenient.”
Ren gave him a tired glance.
“If I wanted convenience, I wouldn’t have agreed to come here.”
Kagemori coughed into his fist, although Ren strongly suspected he was hiding a laugh.
Ren put the pendulum away.
“Let’s try something else.”
He took out his sticks and placed Saburo’s brush beside them.
“These are better for direction.”
Lord Matsunaga watched as Ren focused.
“Which direction did Saburo travel after leaving the southern road?”
Ren cast the sticks and studied the result.
“Northwest.”
Kagemori’s face immediately tightened.
“That doesn’t make sense.”
Ren looked toward him.
“Why?”
“The household he was supposed to reach lies southwest.”
“Then if the reading is correct, he was traveling away from his destination.”
The scarred retainer leaned forward, anger showing clearly now.
“Because he was fleeing.”
“Maybe,” Ren said.
“Everything you’ve discovered points toward it.”
“Not everything.”
“What doesn’t?”
Ren didn’t answer immediately.
His attention remained on Saburo’s brush.
The facts were unpleasant.
Saburo had left willingly.
At first, he had intended to complete his mission.
He had not been attacked.
He had not been forced off the road.
Later, he had changed direction voluntarily and headed northwest instead of southwest.
He had also taken enough money to survive away from home for several weeks.
It looked bad.
Very bad.
Ren could feel the assumptions gathering in the room.
Worse, he could feel those same assumptions beginning to shape his own thoughts.
That frightened him more than the clues themselves.
He reached for the wooden case containing his cards.
Lord Matsunaga leaned forward slightly.
“So the stories about the cards were true.”
Ren paused.
“Stories?”
“I was told you use cards to tell fortunes.”
“People really do talk too much.”
Kagemori smiled from where he sat.
“I’ve been trying to warn you.”
Ren ignored him and opened the case.
Twenty-eight cards rested inside.
They were crude compared with how Ren wished they looked, but each one had been made deliberately.
A symbol.
A concept.
A word.
He shuffled them slowly.
Everyone in the room watched.
Ren placed Saburo’s brush above the deck and closed his eyes.
He needed the question to be broad enough that it didn’t force the answer into the shape everyone already expected.
Not:
Did Saburo betray Lord Matsunaga?
That carried too much weight.
Too much assumption.
Instead, Ren settled on something else.
What best describes Saburo’s disappearance?
He opened his eyes.
Five cards.
He had been experimenting with this arrangement for nearly a month.
The first represented the subject and what bound them to the question.
The second represented intention.
The third represented an obstacle or interference.
The fourth represented something hidden or poorly understood.
And the fifth represented the result.
Ren drew the first card and turned it over.
Duty.
A tied cord had been drawn across the paper.
The scarred retainer’s brow furrowed, but Ren remained silent.
He drew the second.
Journey.
A simple road stretching beneath a sun.
Expected.
The third card followed.
Danger.
Nobody spoke.
Ren could feel the attention in the room growing heavier.
He reached for the fourth card and hesitated only briefly before turning it.
Hidden.
A closed circle.
His heartbeat quickened slightly.
Duty.
Journey.
Danger.
Hidden.
The sequence described something, but it did not yet explain what had happened.
Ren looked toward the final card.
The result.
For reasons he could not fully explain, he suddenly did not want to turn it over.
That feeling bothered him more than any of the cards already on the table.
Kagemori noticed the hesitation.
“Ren?”
Ren licked his dry lips before answering.
“Give me a moment.”
The scarred retainer’s eyes narrowed as a grim expression settled across his face.
“You already suspect what it says.”
“No,” Ren replied, keeping his attention on the card.
“I suspect what everyone in this room wants it to say, and that’s exactly why I’m being careful.”
That silenced the man.
Ren rested two fingers against the final card.
The Matsuo incident returned to him again.
The missing pouch.
Answers that had technically been correct and yet had led him toward the wrong conclusion.
Don’t assume.
Don’t decide before seeing.
Don’t force the reading into the answer everyone expects.
Ren turned the final card over.
For several long seconds, nobody spoke.
A broken knot had been drawn across its surface.
Beneath it sat a single word.
It was one of the newest cards in Ren’s deck, and one he had hoped would rarely appear.
Lord Matsunaga’s voice finally broke the silence.
“What does that card represent?”
Ren stared at it for another moment before slowly raising his eyes.
“It represents the breaking of trust.”
The scarred retainer’s expression hardened.
Lord Matsunaga said nothing.
Ren looked down again.
The card remained exactly as it had been when he first turned it over.
Betrayal.
*****
Nobody spoke for several seconds.
The card rested in the center of the table, its crude drawing almost laughably simple compared with the weight everyone in the room had suddenly placed upon it.
A broken knot crossed the paper, and beneath it sat the word Ren had written only weeks ago.
Betrayal.
The scarred retainer was the first to move.
His expression hardened as he leaned forward, and the anger Ren had sensed in his aura sharpened immediately.
“Then we have our answer.
Saburo abandoned his duty, took the letter, and fled.”
Ren’s eyes remained fixed on the card.
“No,” he said, but when several heads immediately turned toward him, he continued before anyone could interrupt.
“We have a card that represents betrayal.
That’s not the same thing as knowing who betrayed whom.”
The scarred man frowned.
“You asked what best described Saburo’s disappearance.”
“I did, and betrayal apparently describes it.”
“Then what exactly is unclear?”
“Almost everything.”
The retainer’s eyes narrowed, but Ren ignored the irritation gathering on his face and gestured toward the entire spread.
“Look at the other cards.
The first is Duty, the second is Journey, the third is Danger, and the fourth is Hidden.
Only the final card is Betrayal.
If I decide immediately that Saburo betrayed Lord Matsunaga simply because that is the easiest interpretation, then there was no point drawing the other four.”
Lord Matsunaga had remained silent throughout the exchange.
Now he looked down at the cards, his gaze lingering on each in turn.
“Duty,” he murmured.
“Journey.
Danger.
Something hidden.
Then betrayal.”
Ren nodded.
“That’s the sequence I received.”
The scarred retainer folded his arms.
“Or it describes a man abandoning his duty during a journey, hiding his intentions, and betraying his lord.”
“It could,” Ren admitted.
“That interpretation fits.”
The man gave him a look that clearly asked why they were still discussing it.
Ren met his gaze.
“But it isn’t the only interpretation that fits.”
Kagemori, who had been watching from beside him, shifted forward slightly.
“What else could it mean?”
Ren rubbed his thumb against the edge of the Betrayal card while considering how much certainty he was actually willing to claim.
“Saburo could have encountered betrayal during his journey.
Someone could have betrayed him, or the betrayal could involve the letter rather than the messenger.
It could even describe something he discovered and not something he personally did.”
The scarred retainer scoffed.
“That’s convenient.
If every card can mean anything, then the cards mean nothing.”
Ren looked toward him and, despite the man’s obvious hostility, found himself agreeing with part of the criticism.
“That’s exactly what I’m trying to avoid.”
That answer seemed to surprise him.
Ren continued, speaking more carefully now.
“If I decide what I want the card to mean after seeing it, then I’m not performing divination anymore.
I’m telling a story and using the cards to justify it.
That’s why I don’t want everyone in this room deciding Saburo is guilty before we know anything more.”
The retainer opened his mouth, but Lord Matsunaga raised one hand.
“Enough, Tadakatsu.”
So that was his name.
Tadakatsu closed his mouth, although the anger remained plainly visible on his face.
Lord Matsunaga looked toward Ren.
“You believe we need more information.”
“I know we need more information.”
The lord’s eyebrow rose faintly.
Ren immediately realized how that had sounded.
Kagemori turned his face away, but his shoulders moved suspiciously.
Lord Matsunaga, thankfully, appeared more amused than offended.
“Then what information do you need?”
Ren looked toward the folded letter on the table.
“The one thing everyone has been avoiding telling me.”
The room became still again.
Matsunaga’s amusement faded.
“You want to know what Saburo was carrying.”
“Yes.”
Tadakatsu spoke before the lord could answer.
“That information is not something we give to wandering fortune tellers.”
Ren turned toward him.
“Then I can’t properly investigate why the man carrying it disappeared.”
“The contents may have nothing to do with his disappearance.”
“They may not,” Ren replied, “but if you already knew that, you wouldn’t have brought me here.”
Tadakatsu’s jaw tightened.
Lord Matsunaga’s gaze rested on Ren for several long seconds.
Then he sighed.
“The letter contained information concerning my western border.”
Kagemori’s expression changed.
Ren noticed immediately.
Apparently even he hadn’t known.
Matsunaga continued, his fingers resting against the table.
“There has been increasing activity from Lord Takeda’s men near several roads.
Nothing openly hostile yet, but enough that I wanted to coordinate patrols with Lord Akiyama, whose lands lie west of mine.”
Ren slowly nodded.
“And the letter contained your patrol routes.”
“Some of them.”
“Numbers?”
“Yes.”
“Supply locations?”
Tadakatsu’s eyes narrowed, yet Matsunaga answered anyway.
“Two.”
Ren leaned back slightly.
That changed things.
The letter was no longer merely a message between friendly lords.
It contained information that would be extremely useful to an enemy.
“If Saburo intended to betray you,” Ren said slowly, “then the letter would be worth far more than whatever money he took.”
Tadakatsu’s lips tightened.
“Which is precisely why his disappearance is suspicious.”
“It is.”
Ren didn’t disagree.
That seemed to irritate the man more.
Lord Matsunaga glanced toward the cards again.
“Can your divination tell us where Saburo is now?”
“Perhaps roughly.”
“Then do it.”
Ren picked up the writing brush again.
He had already used the sticks to determine that Saburo had traveled northwest after leaving the southern road, but northwest covered far too much territory to be useful by itself.
He closed his eyes and focused on the object.
The faint impression returned.
Distance.
Fear.
Urgency.
There was something else now that he understood more about the situation.
Ren concentrated.
Cold stone.
Water.
His brow furrowed.
The impressions vanished.
He opened his eyes.
Kagemori noticed the change in his expression.
“You saw something?”
“I wouldn’t call it seeing.”
“What did you feel?”
Ren placed the brush down.
“Cold stone and water.”
Tadakatsu stared at him.
“That could describe half the countryside.”
“I know.”
“Then it doesn’t help.”
“It helps more than nothing.”
Kagemori rubbed his chin thoughtfully.
“Northwest from the southern road, with stone and water.”
Lord Matsunaga looked toward him.
“You have something in mind?”
“Possibly.”
Kagemori’s expression became more serious as he thought.
“There’s an old temple near Mount Kuro.
It was abandoned after fighting passed through that area years ago.
A stream runs directly behind it.”
Tadakatsu shook his head.
“That’s nearly a full day northwest of where Saburo should have been.”
“Which is why nobody searching the western road would have found him.”
Matsunaga looked toward Ren.
“Can you verify it?”
Ren reached for his pendulum.
“I can try.”
He concentrated on Saburo’s brush and the place Kagemori had described.
“Is Saburo currently near the abandoned temple at Mount Kuro?”
The pendulum moved slowly.
Yes.
Everyone in the room became much more attentive.
Ren repeated the question with slightly different wording.
“Is the person connected to this brush presently within the area surrounding Mount Kuro?” Again, yes.
Tadakatsu was already rising.
“We leave now.”
Lord Matsunaga looked toward the darkening sky beyond the open screens.
“No.
You would reach the forest after nightfall, and rushing blindly toward a man who may possess information our enemies want would be foolish.”
Tadakatsu’s expression tightened.
“If Saburo is preparing to flee—”
“If he has remained near an abandoned temple for nine days, another few hours are unlikely to decide whether we catch him.”
The older retainer reluctantly settled back down.
Matsunaga turned toward Kagemori.
“Choose four men.
You leave at first light.”
Kagemori bowed his head.
“Yes, my lord.”
Then Matsunaga’s eyes moved toward Ren.
“You’ll go with them.”
Ren had somehow known that was coming.
He sighed.
“Of course I will.”
*****
Ren slept badly.
He had been given a small room in one of the outer buildings, which was considerably more comfortable than most places he had slept during the previous three months.
That did not make it easier to rest.
The card remained in his thoughts.
Betrayal.
He had drawn it himself.
He had defined it himself.
Yet now that it had appeared in an actual reading, he realized how little that definition helped.
What was betrayal?
Breaking someone’s trust.
Simple.
Except trust could be broken for countless reasons.
A servant could betray his lord.
A lord could betray his servant.
An ally could betray an ally.
A husband could betray his wife.
A friend could betray a friend.
Someone could even betray an expectation while remaining loyal to the person behind it.
Ren rolled onto his back.
“This is why I liked the pendulum.”
Yes or no was easier.
Usually.
Then the Matsuo incident returned to mind and he grimaced.
No.
Apparently even that wasn’t easy.
He closed his eyes.
Tomorrow would hopefully provide something more useful than symbolism.
They left just before sunrise.
Kagemori rode at the front, while Tadakatsu accompanied them despite Lord Matsunaga originally telling Kagemori to choose the men himself.
Ren suspected Tadakatsu had simply refused to remain behind.
Three younger samurai completed the group.
Ren, once again, walked.
He stared at Kagemori’s horse.
Kagemori noticed within minutes.
“No.”
“I didn’t ask.”
“You were going to.”
“I was thinking about it.”
“Think quietly.”
Ren muttered something under his breath.
Tadakatsu glanced back at him.
“Is this how you usually behave around samurai?”
“No.
Usually I avoid them.”
One of the younger men coughed into his fist.
Kagemori smiled.
Even Tadakatsu’s expression twitched slightly before becoming stern again.
The journey remained quiet for the first several hours.
They followed the western road before turning north along a narrower path that cut through increasingly wooded terrain.
Ren watched the surroundings carefully.
The farther they traveled, the fewer people they encountered.
That made him uncomfortable.
Human beings were troublesome, but empty roads in a war-torn country had their own problems.
Eventually, Kagemori slowed his horse enough for Ren to walk beside him.
“You still think Saburo may be innocent.”
Ren considered the question.
“I think we don’t know.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
“It’s the answer I’m giving.”
Kagemori glanced down at him, and a thoughtful expression settled across his face.
“Three months ago, I think you would have given me a guess.”
“Probably.”
“And now?”
“Now I’ve had enough guesses become rumors.”
Kagemori laughed softly.
“That bad?”
“Apparently I once predicted an entire wagon.”
“You should be proud.”
“I told them to look in the direction it was already traveling.”
“A legendary feat.”
Ren gave him a flat look.
Kagemori’s smile faded after a moment.
“I knew Saburo.”
Ren looked toward him.
“Well?”
“Well enough.”
There was something in the samurai’s tone that made Ren wait rather than ask another question.
Kagemori eventually continued.
“He’s been in Lord Matsunaga’s service longer than I have.
Quiet man, dependable, and almost painfully serious.
I once watched him walk half a day back to a village because he realized he’d accidentally been given one extra coin in payment for supplies.”
Ren blinked.
“That sounds exhausting.”
“It was.”
“Doesn’t sound like someone who suddenly steals military information.”
“No.”
Kagemori’s mouth tightened.
“But men change.”
“Or circumstances do.”
“Exactly.”
They walked in silence for another minute.
Then Kagemori glanced at him.
“What did the Duty card mean?”
Ren frowned.
“Duty.”
“I understood the word.”
“Then why ask?”
“Because you said cards have broader meanings.”
Ren looked mildly impressed.
“You were listening.”
“I occasionally do that.”
Ren thought about the question.
“Duty can mean obligation, loyalty, responsibility, a promise, or something binding a person to another person or purpose.”
“And because it appeared first?”
“I’ve been treating the first position as the thing at the center of the situation.”
Kagemori’s eyes narrowed slightly.
“So duty is at the center of Saburo’s disappearance.”
“Maybe.”
“You say maybe often.”
“I’ve found it safer.”
Kagemori smiled faintly.
“I can see why Tadakatsu dislikes you.”
Ren glanced toward the older retainer riding ahead.
“He knew Saburo too?”
“Better than I did.”
Ren looked at Tadakatsu’s back.
That explained the anger.
It wasn’t merely outrage at treason.
It was personal disappointment.
They reached Mount Kuro near midday.
Calling it a mountain was generous.
It was a heavily wooded rise, steep enough to make horses inconvenient and large enough that anyone hiding among the trees would be difficult to find.
Kagemori dismounted.
“We continue on foot.”
Ren almost laughed.
“How terrible for you.”
Kagemori ignored him.
The abandoned temple lay somewhere beyond the northern slope.
The path had nearly disappeared beneath years of fallen leaves and vegetation, but traces of stone markers remained between the trees.
Ren took out Saburo’s brush.
Tadakatsu watched him.
“Can you tell whether he’s still there?”
“I can try.”
Ren held his pendulum.
“Is Saburo still within the area around the abandoned temple?”
Yes.
He asked another question.
“Is Saburo alive?”
The pendulum moved.
Yes.
A subtle wave of relief passed through the group.
Even Tadakatsu’s shoulders loosened.
That reaction told Ren more than anything the man had said.
They continued.
The stream was the first thing Ren heard.
Water moving over stone.
Cold stone and water.
His pace slowed.
Kagemori noticed.
“This is it?”
“I think so.”
The old temple appeared minutes later.
Most of the outer wall had collapsed.
One building leaned badly to one side, while another had already fallen into a pile of dark wood and broken tiles.
Moss covered the stones leading toward what had once been the main hall.
Nobody was visible.
Tadakatsu drew his sword.
The others followed.
Ren stepped slightly farther behind them.
He possessed supernatural abilities, but none of those abilities involved becoming difficult to stab.
Kagemori raised one hand.
“Saburo!”
His voice echoed through the ruins.
No answer came.
Kagemori tried again.
“We’re here under Lord Matsunaga’s orders.
Come out!”
Still nothing.
Tadakatsu’s face darkened.
“He’s hiding.”
“Or unable to answer,” Ren said.
The older man glanced toward him.
Ren pointed.
There were marks beside one of the ruined buildings. This chapter was copied from g.com without permission.
Footprints.
Several sets.
Kagemori crouched.
“Recent.”
Tadakatsu looked around sharply.
“How many?”
“At least five.”
Ren felt his stomach tighten.
Saburo had not been alone.
The cards returned to him.
Duty.
Journey.
Danger.
Hidden.
Betrayal.
Kagemori stood.
“Stay together.”
They moved through the temple grounds.
A broken door hung open ahead.
One of the younger samurai approached it, but Ren suddenly felt something cold travel along his spine.
“Wait.”
Everyone stopped.
Kagemori turned.
“What?”
Ren didn’t know.
That was the problem.
Something felt wrong.
He looked toward the doorway.
His intuition had become sharper over recent months, although it remained frustratingly difficult to explain.
“Don’t enter from there.”
Tadakatsu frowned.
“Why?”
“I don’t know.”
The older man looked deeply unimpressed.
Kagemori, however, stepped away from the door.
“Good enough.”
They circled the building.
Behind it, half hidden beneath overgrown vegetation, was another entrance.
And beside that entrance lay a length of rope.
Cut.
Tadakatsu crouched.
His expression changed.
“Someone was tied here.”
They entered carefully.
The interior smelled of damp wood and old dust.
A few pieces of cloth lay near one wall.
There was an extinguished fire.
A water container.
Food wrappings.
Someone had been living there.
Then a voice came from deeper inside.
“Kagemori?”
Every sword in the room shifted.
Tadakatsu went completely still.
“Saburo?”
Movement came from behind a damaged screen.
A man stepped out.
He looked terrible.
His clothing was dirty, his face was exhausted, and one arm had been wrapped tightly in cloth.
He leaned against the wall as though standing required more effort than he wanted to admit.
But he was alive.
Tadakatsu crossed the room before anyone else.
For a moment Ren thought the older man intended to strike him.
Instead, Tadakatsu grabbed Saburo by the shoulders.
“You idiot.”
Saburo winced.
“Good to see you too.”
“You disappeared for nine days!”
“I noticed.”
Tadakatsu looked as though he couldn’t decide whether to embrace him or shake him.
Anger won.
“Where is the letter?”
Saburo’s exhausted expression immediately changed.
“Safe.”
Every man in the room became alert.
Kagemori stepped closer.
“What happened?”
Saburo looked past him.
His gaze stopped on Ren.
“Who is that?”
“The fortune teller.”
Saburo stared.
Ren raised one hand awkwardly.
“Hello.”
“This is your investigation?”
Kagemori shrugged.
“It worked.”
Saburo looked as though he lacked the energy to question that statement.
He slowly lowered himself beside the wall.
“I need to speak to Lord Matsunaga.”
“You will,” Tadakatsu said.
“After you explain why you abandoned your route.”
Saburo’s face became grim.
“I didn’t abandon the mission.”
“You went northwest.”
“Because going west would have delivered the letter directly into enemy hands.”
Silence filled the ruined building.
Tadakatsu’s anger vanished.
Kagemori’s eyes narrowed.
“What are you talking about?”
Saburo licked dry lips before reaching toward a bundle beside him.
His movements were slow, but when his hand returned, he was holding another folded letter.
Not Lord Matsunaga’s.
This one bore a different seal.
Saburo held it toward Kagemori.
“I found a messenger on the southern road.”
“Whose messenger?”
“Akiyama’s.”
Kagemori stared at the seal.
Lord Akiyama.
The very man Saburo had been ordered to deliver Matsunaga’s letter to.
Saburo continued.
“The messenger was traveling east, but he wasn’t using the main road.
I thought it was strange, so I followed him.”
Tadakatsu’s expression darkened again.
“You abandoned your route to follow another lord’s messenger?”
“I recognized him.”
Saburo’s eyes narrowed.
“He had visited Akiyama’s residence while I was there last spring, except then he wasn’t serving Akiyama.”
Kagemori slowly unfolded the letter.
“Who was he serving?”
Saburo met his eyes.
“Takeda.”
The name changed the atmosphere immediately.
Ren remembered it.
Lord Matsunaga had mentioned increased activity from Lord Takeda’s men along the western border.
Kagemori read quickly.
Then stopped.
His face went pale.
Tadakatsu reached for the document.
“What does it say?”
Kagemori didn’t immediately answer.
That frightened Ren more than if he had.
Finally, he handed the letter over.
Tadakatsu read.
His expression transformed.
Disbelief first.
Then fury.
“No.”
Saburo gave a tired, humorless laugh.
“That’s what I thought.”
Ren looked between them.
“What does it say?”
Nobody answered at first.
Kagemori eventually turned toward him.
“Lord Akiyama has been negotiating with Takeda.”
Ren felt the pieces begin moving.
“The ally who was supposed to receive Matsunaga’s patrol information.”
“Yes.”
Tadakatsu’s hand trembled around the letter.
Kagemori continued, his voice becoming colder with every word.
“Akiyama promised to provide information about Lord Matsunaga’s western defenses.
In exchange, Takeda would support him after the border fighting began.”
Ren stared.
“Support him against whom?”
Kagemori looked at him.
“Us.”
There it was.
Betrayal.
Not the messenger.
The destination.
Ren felt a chill travel along his arms.
Saburo rested his head against the wall.
“I realized that if I continued west, I would be handing Akiyama exactly what he promised them.”
Tadakatsu looked up sharply.
“Then why didn’t you come home?”
“Because the messenger saw me.”
Saburo’s mouth tightened.
“I tried to leave, but there were others nearby.
I couldn’t return east without leading them toward our roads.”
Kagemori glanced toward the cut rope outside.
“They caught you.”
“For a while.”
Ren decided not to ask for details.
Saburo gestured weakly toward the ruins around them.
“I escaped two nights later and came here because I knew the place.
They searched the roads, and I couldn’t risk returning while they were still looking.”
“And the extra money?” Tadakatsu demanded, although his voice had lost most of its anger.
“You took enough for weeks before you left.”
Saburo’s expression became uncomfortable.
“That part is less dramatic.”
Everyone waited.
Saburo sighed.
“My wife told me to buy winter cloth from a merchant near Akiyama’s residence.”
Kagemori stared at him.
Tadakatsu stared at him.
Ren stared too.
Saburo looked mildly defensive.
“It was cheaper there.”
For several seconds, nobody knew what to say.
Then Kagemori laughed.
Not politely.
Not quietly.
He leaned against a wooden beam and laughed until Tadakatsu glared at him.
Ren covered his mouth, but it didn’t help much.
Even Saburo smiled faintly.
Tadakatsu finally rubbed both hands across his face.
“For nine days,” he muttered, “I thought you’d sold military secrets and fled with enough money to start a new life.”
“I was buying cloth.”
“You could have told someone.”
“It was supposed to be a surprise for my wife.”
That only made Kagemori laugh harder.
Tadakatsu looked ready to kill both of them.
Ren’s own amusement slowly faded.
Something still bothered him.
He reached into the wooden case at his side.
The cards.
He removed the five from the previous evening and placed them on the dusty floor.
Saburo watched with confusion.
“What are those?”
“The reason we’re here,” Kagemori said.
Ren arranged them in order.
Duty.
Saburo had continued protecting his lord’s message.
Journey.
Obvious.
Danger.
The enemy agents.
Hidden.
The secret alliance between Akiyama and Takeda.
Then the last card.
Betrayal.
Ren stared at it.
The reading had been right.
Not approximately right.
Not metaphorically right after enough excuses.
It had described the situation perfectly.
Yet if Ren had accepted the first interpretation—
Saburo would have been branded a traitor.
Men might have been sent after him as an enemy.
Worse, Lord Matsunaga might still have trusted Akiyama, the real traitor.
Ren felt suddenly cold.
Kagemori noticed him staring.
“The cards were correct.”
Ren nodded slowly.
“Yes.”
“You don’t sound pleased.”
“I’m not.”
Saburo glanced between them.
“Why?”
Ren picked up the Betrayal card.
“Because yesterday everyone looked at this card and thought it meant you betrayed Lord Matsunaga.”
Saburo’s eyebrows rose.
“Reasonable assumption.”
“That’s the problem.”
Ren’s fingers tightened around the card.
“It was reasonable.”
He looked toward the others.
“The pendulum said you left voluntarily.
It said you deliberately changed routes.
The sticks said you traveled away from your destination.
You took extra money, disappeared with an important letter, and then this card appeared.”
Tadakatsu’s expression became uncomfortable.
Ren continued.
“Every piece of information pointed toward the wrong person, even though none of the information itself was wrong.”
No one immediately responded.
The stream continued flowing outside.
Ren looked down at the cards again.
He had spent months trying to improve his divination.
Better questions.
Better tools.
More cards.
More precise meanings.
And somehow, that still hadn’t been enough.
Perhaps it never would be.
The thought made him uneasy.
Kagemori eventually broke the silence.
“We should return.”
Tadakatsu nodded.
“Immediately.”
Saburo looked toward the path outside and grimaced.
“I may need a horse.”
Kagemori smiled faintly.
“You can have Ren’s.”
Ren stared at him.
“I don’t have a horse.”
“Exactly.”
Saburo laughed weakly.
Even Tadakatsu’s mouth twitched.
Ren put the cards away.
Yet the Betrayal card remained in his hand for a few seconds longer.
He looked at the broken knot.
Yesterday, he had thought the question was whether Saburo had betrayed his lord.
Today, he knew the real betrayal had been larger, more dangerous, and hidden behind the most obvious answer.
The divination had not failed.
The cards had not lied.
The problem was that truth did not arrive already explained.
Ren slipped the card back into its case.
For the first time, that realization frightened him more than receiving no answer at all.