“If you want to call the whole thing off, it is fine with me,” Yoshi snapped.

  “You know that will not happen. We are not as rigid as our samurai cousins, but to cancel a contract would not reflect well on the head of the Five Families,” she firmly stated.

  “So that is what he is,” said Yoshi. “I thought so, but could not be sure. What are you to him?”

  Sachi smiled for the first time. “So, now you are interested in me?”

  “Only in a survival sense,” Yoshi stated. “Do not flatter yourself.”

  Sparks danced in her eyes and she instinctively reached into her garment top. Then she relaxed and withdrew her hand. “I was right. You are an unsatisfactory choice in so many ways,” she said flatly.

  Yoshi poured water into the teapot and hooked the handle on the kagizuru, a chain suspended from an overhead beam positioned above the sand pit in the middle of the room. Then he started a fire with the kindling and charcoal at the edge of the sand.

  “Okay, so answer the question. What are you to the head of the Five Families?” Yoshi demanded.

  “I am his sempai,” she announced proudly.

  Yoshi looked up in astonishment. “You mean if the old man dies, the Five Families are to be led by a woman?”

  “What of it? I plan and direct most of the operations now,” she snapped back.

  Yoshi slowed his breathing. She had just admitted she ran the Five Families. Was he supposed to know this? Why is this cold killer almost flirting with me? He had better tread lightly.

  “My apologies, naesan,” Yoshi said as he bowed slightly. “I’m sure you are very good at what you do or the old man would not have you doing it. Having a woman in such a high position just took me by surprise.”

  “I am not your older sister,” Sachi snapped, then immediately calmed. “So you could work for a woman?” She moved to the fire and placed two teacups on the raised wood border of the pit.

  Yoshi nodded. “Of course, I am working for one now, or so it seems.”

  Sachi took out a small pouch and placed a pinch of tea into one cup and was about to do so for the second cup when Yoshi reached out with amazing speed and snatched it with his hand. Sachi looked up with a blank expression. Yoshi smiled and placed his own tea into the second cup.

  Sachi smiled. “Maybe you are not an amateur after all, Yoshi-san.”

  Yoshi bowed. “If I was really good, I would be boiling and scrubbing the inside of the pot as well.”

  “No need,” Sachi said as she poured the boiling water first into Yoshi’s cup and then her own. “We still need you.”

  Yoshi sipped the tea and smacked his lips. “Oishi desu,” he said in appreciation. Then he physically relaxed.

  “So tell me, daughter of the Five Families, why you have reservations about me.”

  Sachi sipped her tea and thought for a moment. “How do I tell you without giving offense and thereby endangering the mission?”

  “Why not just tell the truth?” Yoshi suggested.

  “Very well,” she said. “You are young. Ergo your focus and dedication are called into question.”

  “It is true that you are older than I,” Yoshi agreed.

  That comment won him a scowl. “I have been studying since I was six,” she stated.

  “So has every ninja in all of Japan,” Yoshi countered.

  “Yes, but I have been studying with the head of the Five Families,” Sachi said.

  “Well, he may not have been the head of Five Families, but my father was well respected by many, including the head of the Five Families,” Yoshi stated. “And he was my mentor before I was six.”

  Sachi sighed. “Okay, let’s say you have made your point. The second character flaw is the gravest anyway,” she continued. “You are an idealist and a romantic.”

  “What is wrong with that?”

  “You think too much,” Sachi accused. “You most likely married that peasant girl out of some sense of obligation. You protect her family when that brother of hers is almost useless and her mother is nothing more than a witch with a knack for forest goblin brews.” Then, without stopping, she asked, “Why didn’t you wait for a more suitable match?” Before he could answer, she continued. “You are conflicted. You are an assassin, and by the Oyakata’s words, a good one, yet you live your life to please others. I cannot totally trust an assassin who helps others. That is why I find you dangerous to this mission,” she triumphantly concluded.

  Yoshi sipped the last of this tea. “I see. Then nothing I say will change your mind.” He started to put out the fire.

  “No argument?” she asked. “No witty rebuttal? Now would be the time to change my mind and to reaffirm your allegiance to the Five Families and myself.”

  “No, I have made it a habit not to argue with stubborn people,” he sighed.

  Yoshi put out the fire, retired to the far corner of the dark room, pulled up his gray blanket, and went fast to sleep. He hoped she would not slit his throat.

  Chapter 6: Succession

  Sachi lifted the basket that was concealing her entire head. The straw area from which she normally peered had most of the weave thinned and was fine for looking forward, but it distorted her peripheral vision. She needed all of her senses now. With her basket hat, white kimono stuffed into a white hakama tied at her knees and below her calves with white kiahan gaiters, white tabi and waraji sandals, and holding a shakuhachi flute, she looked every bit a komuso—a “priest of nothingness.” They were famous for visiting the shrines of Edo and few people paid them any attention as they usually asked for alms.

  She saw nothing out of place and slowed her pace as she came upon a small noodle shop. Upon entering, she heard the greeting “Irashiai dozo” from the shop woman who was moving from one hard wood table to the next. Once heard, the cook behind the counter echoed the welcome but with a monotone sighing that betrayed the sincerity of the greeting.

  Sachi bowed slightly and took off her basket hat. She held it in one hand with three fingers displayed on the outside as she said “Ocha desu ka?”

  “Hai,” the shop Girl’s reply came as she moved behind the counter to bring the requested tea.

  Sachi sat down on the wooden bench and placed the shakuhachi on the rough tabletop. She pushed her hair back into place as she scanned the shop’s patrons. It was not difficult. There were only three. Judging by the smell emanating from their leather vests, dirty loincloths, and muddy straw sandals, the two stable men had nothing for her. They were too busy loudly slurping noodles from their wooden bowls. The third man was elderly with gray hair and a scar that ran from his chin to above his sightless left eye. He seemed unimportant. Nevertheless, he held his teacup with three fingers showing on his left hand. Sachi made the countersign by placing two of her fingers of her left hand on her face. The old man moved two fingers to his dead eye as if it still bothered him.

  Sachi sipped her tea, watching the wide dusty street and the constant procession of town people, beggars, samurai, and ronin that passed in the human parade staged on every street throughout the bustling capital of the Tokugawa shogunate. Even though she had gotten the “all clear” signal from the old ninja watcher, Sachi wanted to see for herself. She knew her craft. Relying on others could get you killed. She savored the full cup of tea and convinced herself that the old spy had been correct. Nothing was out of place. No one was watching the Edo domain of the Five Families that was located directly across from the noodle shop.

  Assured of her safety, Sachi placed one copper coin on the table, picked up the long flute, placed her basket hat over her head, exited the noodle shop, and walked directly across the street to the Abe Courier Service shop. She parted the two-piece cloth curtain and stepped onto the welcoming alcove, then she turned around and, removing her sandals, sat facing the street. To her left she noted the straw cloaks hanging on wooden pegs with a simple wooden nameplate above them. There were ten pegs in all. Half were empty.

  As Sachi stepped up to the main floor, she called, “Tadaima,” thus alerting the household of her return. Immediately a feminine voice responded with “Okaire.” It was more than a welcome. It was recognition that Sachi posed no threat to the inhabitants of the large store and could go about their business as usual.

  Sachi would have liked to go to her room, get out of her traveling clothes, and have a nice hot bath, but that would have to wait. Hoping that she did not smell too badly, she moved to the central quad that opened onto a square courtyard boasting flowers and a single cherry tree that had lost its bloom several months ago.

  Of all her childhood memories, coming here with her father in spring to view the flowers and the cherry blossoms was among her favorites. She sighed. Then she laughed. It ranked right up there with crippling that ronin on her fourteenth birthday when she was at the hot spring in Hakone. The idiot had tried to rape her, but it had been a bad mistake on his part. Any further sexual pleasures he would enjoy would be vicarious.

  Now that she thought about it, this Edo headquarters held many good memories. She remembered slipping the sharpened hairpin into the base of the skull of the Yoshiwara pimp and watching him twitch himself to death. She had been sixteen when tasked to infiltrate a high-class brothel on her father’s orders. The pimp had been a pig who had gotten rich on the bodies of young women. They lived in squalor while he lived in a big comfortable house. They drank stale water, ate millet, and tried to work off impossible debt while he drank sake and ate sea bream. He had deserved to die.

  The ability to kill and steal away was not the real attraction in her life. It was the freedom and empowerment. She could go anywhere and become anyone. She had seen things that no nobleman’s wife would see. She had done things that they could never imagine.

  True, she would probably never marry nor have kids; her destiny lay in another direction. She ran a network of sixty-five spies and assassins, and she knew more about the country than most diamyos. She certainly knew more about life than their dutiful wives who stayed home keeping the cook fires burning while their self-important husbands drank and whored in town. Samurai wives would seldom travel and most would never leave the confines of their little domains. She, on the other hand, came and went as she pleased. Her training gave her great confidence. Unlike most women of the age, she did not live in fear. She knew from experience that she could fight and win against most samurai, and very few ninja would offer her much of a problem either. She had absolutely nothing to fear from everyone else.

  Overall, life was good. Yes, killing that pimp had been enjoyable. Not all missions were. She hated some, but she could not choose her assignments. When she went out, people died. Sometimes she did not like it, but she did it. It was who she was. She had come to terms with it. Either she would inherit the Five Families, like her father wanted, or she would meet her own death. She was ready either way.

  Sachi knelt at the closed paper door and uttered, “Moshiage masu,” to signify she was reporting. The door slid back from the inside, revealing her father seated cross legged in the company of five men. As Sachi moved onto the tatami flooring inside the room, she knelt and bowed first to her father and then to the five men.

  “What news have you, Sachi?” asked her father.

  Sachi bowed again. “The preparations are proceeding, but our man could not get to the target in Kii,” she reported. The old man raised his eyebrows, but did not ask a question. Sachi proceeded. “He infiltrated the compound and had a plan in place when the target’s family was summoned to Edo. He will have to strike along the way or in Edo.”

  One of the five men glanced at the old man. He received a slight nod in return. The man addressed Sachi. “Hime,” but before he could get out the rest of his inquiry, Sachi interrupted him.

  “Don’t call me that! I am no princess.”

  The old man bowed and apologized. “Gomen nasai, oyabun. No offense was meant. Isn’t waiting until Edo dangerous? The metsuke spies are bound to spot him.”

  Sachi smiled, but her eyes did not. “Yes, Ichi, it is dangerous. No doubt if we had given your family the task instead of this outsider, you would have executed it by now.” Her words revealed the hidden condemnation in Ichi’s question.

  Another man spoke up. “We all assume you brought in this country cousin for a reason. We know not to second-guess the oyabun of the Five Families. We just wonder if a mission of such importance should have been entrusted to someone outside the families.”

  Sachi looked to her father.

  The old man fixed his gaze on the questioner in the fifth position. “Is that how you feel also Go-san?” Then, addressing the group, “Is that how all of you feel?” The fifth man nodded. The old man repeated the question for the second, third, and fourth positions. They all nodded in agreement that bringing in an outsider was a problem.

  “Okay,” the old man said calmly. “You are all excused. We will meet again by the regular signal.”

  Upon their departure, the old man smiled at Sachi. “And what did you think of the Five heads of our ikki today?” he asked.

  Sachi frowned. “They are dull men who seem to question everything.”

  “And do you know why?” her father asked.

  “My guess would be they are old and unimaginative men,” Sachi stated.

  “They are testing you,” he said.

  Sachi looked surprised. “I have led this ikki for over five years, why are they testing me now?”

  “Because we are vulnerable and they sense it,” he replied.

  Sachi did not answer. Knowing the ways of her father, she opted for silence.

  The old man continued. “I am already ten years older than the last head of the Five Families when he died of old age. My days are numbered, and they have made pacts with each other to ensure you do not succeed me.”

  “The bastards,” she cursed. “I will kill them in their sleep.”

  “Sachi,” the old man chided, “when are you going to start using your head instead of your sword?”

  Sachi bowed. “Gomen. I am sorry, Father.”

  “How much support do you think you can count on when I’m gone?” he asked.

  “From what you just said, none,”

  “And why do you think I picked Yoshi for this mission over the Five Families’ objections, as well as your own?”

  “I assume he has some skill you value, or that you want blame to fall outside the Five Families,” she said.

  “Correct on both counts, Daughter,” he said proudly. “Yoshi is skilled. In fact I would say that Yoshi may be the best around.”

  “Father, I’ve watched him. He almost walked into his shack without noticing me inside,” she protested.

  The old man smiled. “Almost is the difference between living and dying in our world. Call it luck, call it karma, haragai, or witchcraft. He’s almost failed in four different assignments, but didn’t,” the old man stated. “But more importantly, you need a man who is loyal. You see tonight what you are facing with the succession. So tell me how you and Yoshi got along.”

  “Not so well,” she said, making two fists in her lap. “He is the most exasperating country bumpkin I’ve ever met. He has no respect for our positions; he acts like he knows everything and doesn’t need our help; and he still blames us for poisoning his wife.”

  “He will get over that,” the old man mused. “He will know that the poison wasn’t lethal as soon as he spends some time at home with his mother-in-law. Her mastery of herbs and potions is impressive.” He pulled his long, narrow pipe from his obi at his waist and fished for his netsuke charm that was attached to the tobacco pouch. He placed a pinch in the tiny bowl and ignited it with the candle from the paper lantern at his elbow. “Tell me what you think of him as a person.”

  Sachi took a deep breath. She knew there were no single questions with her father. Everything was a test. “He must be as skilled as you say, as he got into and out of the Kii mansion quickly and was able to gather good intelligence.”

  The old man nodded, which was his way of saying, “continue.”

  “He is skillful at camouflage. I watched him approach his shack from a position he could not see, and his acting as a courier was flawless. I would have sworn he was one of ours.”

  “And?” the old man prompted.

  “And that ability of his to see through walls is a little bit unnerving,” she admitted.

  “Haragai,” the old man stated.

  “Yes, haragai,” Sachi repeated. “I’ve never known anyone who possessed it.” Then, looking directly at her father, she asked, “Does anyone in the Five Families possess this ability?”

  The old man tapped his pipe into the small brazier to his left. “Not anymore. It is a lost art, I’m afraid.”

  “So why does he have it?” she asked.

  “Who knows?” the old man replied. “I’ve only known one other and that was Yoshi’s father. Some say it is part of the black arts, wrapped up in the ability to cast spells and place people in a trance. I do not know about that. I was taught the black arts and I don’t have this ability.”

  Sachi asked another question. “So haragai is why you chose him for this mission over my objections?”

  The old man rekindled his pipe and took a puff. “What were those objections again?”

  “You know very well. He is too young and he is loyal to the wrong people. He is weak,” she stated.

  “Oh yes, now I remember. He chose a childhood friend as a wife and keeps her brother and mother around,” he stated with a nod. “Anything else?” he asked.

  “Just that you can’t tell him anything because he won’t listen. Do you know that he went to sleep right in front of me? It was like he was taunting me to put a knife in his ribs,” she complained.

  “Did you?” he asked.

  “No, Father. You know I would not go against your decisions.”

  “So let me summarize, my daughter. He is skilled, he is loyal, he possesses power we thought lost to the shinobi, and he trusts you enough to turn his back on you because he knows you would not defy me. Is that about it?”

  Sachi smiled. She was always amazed at how her father was one-step ahead of everyone else. “I understand Oto-san. In light of the heads of the ikka questionable support of me, you want Yoshi to act as my aniki. As a big brother, he is loyal, thinks of others before himself, and is skillful and respected for his adherence to the old traditions. His ability in haragai is an added plus. Even the dullards I saw tonight could not find fault with him.”