Free Wall of Spears by Duncan Lay Page A

clothes and cloak of an esemono — and might even be able to use that to follow Sumiko and discern what she was up to. Gaibun and Retsu’s solution to the danger was to order her to stay inside and post guards at the front door. But how could she do nothing? To sit and wait and rely on others — she could not stand that any longer. Several times she had found herself wishing she could talk to Rhiannon, wondered how her attempts to find Velsh with magic powers were going. Once or twice she had even called down a bird, wanting to send it west with a message. But then she remembered what Rhiannon had done; how she had slept with Sendatsu and lied about it. The mere thought of Sendatsu was enough to make Asami’s blood boil. Each time, she sent the bird away.
    But she could not walk away from this situation with Sumiko, no matter how much Retsu and Gaibun wanted her to. They thought they knew best for her. It was exactly the same sort of frustration she had encountered all her life. They wanted to pat her on the head and tell her everything was fine. She should not worry her pretty little head about such things. Go back to your cooking and cleaning. They were too afraid to confront Jaken with their suspicions, thinking Sumiko too powerful. But if she had real evidence of Sumiko’s deceit and plans, then even Jaken could not ignore that.
    The guards on her front door did not give her a second glance — which did not make her feel reassured about their skills, no matter what Gaibun had said. The long cloak she was wearing covered her from head to toe and also disguised the fact she had her sword. The greatest problem she had was remembering she was supposed to be an esemono. She was used to walking proudly, having people step out of her way; now she had to shuffle aside for anyone of noble rank.
    She went to Sumiko’s beautiful new home, the villa formerly owned by Daichi. The garden looked even more lovely now but Asami knew better than to try to enter there — it would be the best guard Sumiko had.
    Asami paused outside. She was reminded of the time she had gone there with Sendatsu to confront Daichi and she wondered what he was doing now, what he would have done if he was here.
    ‘Watch where you are going, esemono!’ a harsh voice said and she was shoved aside roughly.
    She forced herself to apologise as the plump merchant bustled past, not sparing her a second glance. She was tempted to make his obi fall off, bringing his hakama trousers to the ground, but reluctantly held back, knowing that using magic outside Sumiko’s home would be as foolish as knocking on the front door.
    Instead she walked slowly past and waited behind a large statue of one of Daichi’s ancestors, a self-satisfied-looking Elder Elf from more than one hundred years ago. Whenever somebody walked past, she pretended to be begging and was rewarded with them moving swiftly away, not deigning to look at her.
    She waited there for more than a turn of the hourglass, wondering if she was wasting her time and hoping she was not spotted by an acquaintance, when there was finally some action at Sumiko’s villa: the door opened and Oroku walked out.
    Asami flattened herself against the statue as Sumiko’s deputy looked left and right along the street and then hurried off towards Dokuzen’s central park. Asami let him go past and waited until she was sure no others were going to follow him, then hurried after, this time less careful about how she was walking and even brushing past a few outraged tradesmen, moving too fast for them to bother with but attracting several angry cries.
    Inside the cloak, she burned at Dokuzen’s society and how everyone thought they were better than someone else. Your status was defined by how many people you looked down on. Even the esemono followed that principle, thinking themselves far above humans.
    Then Oroku darted into the park, heading for a stand of oak trees, and she increased her pace, heedless of who might see