Free Lord Oda's Revenge by Nick Lake

are.’ He gestured to the samurai in the cart. ‘Hayao was overjoyed, of course. He cursed the name of the monk who had contrived to separate them, but he was glad to find that Tsuyu was still alive. He told her how much he loved her. “And as for me,” replied Tsuyu, “I would gladly disobey my father to be with you, even if it should mean that he responds with a
shichi-sho made no mando
, a disinheritance for seven lifetimes. Come, will you not allow me to stay tonight?’
    â€˜Hayao hesitated. Not only was it highly improper to have an unattached girl to stay, but also he was worried that the nosy local gossip might notice. “The thing is,” he said, “I have an annoying neighbour called Yusai, who is a
ninsomi
and tellspeople’s fortunes by looking at the shapes of their faces. It happens that this is not the only way in which he likes to scrutinize other people, however – he also rejoices in learning the business of all his neighbours, and then telling it to his
other
neighbours, as if to spread the bounty of gossip evenly around the neighbourhood. If you stay, I fear he may discover us.”
    â€˜Hayao asked the girl if he could visit her at home, but she said no, he couldn’t. Her father had fallen in the world, it seemed, and she had been forced to move to a peasant house among the plum trees. She was embarrassed to receive him there.
    â€˜â€œVery well, then,” said Hayao. “But because of this busybody Yusai, you must leave before daybreak, and quietly.”’
    Hiro had started to sweat, as the day warmed, and Oshi motioned for him to put down the cart. He lifted it himself and began to pull it along the path – slower than Hiro, but steadily. ‘That’s as much as I could draw out of Hayao,’ he said. ‘When I spoke to him, he seemed to think that I had been sent by the monk, his erstwhile friend, to convince him his true love was dead. He was quite unpleasant to me, I must say. He was paranoid – thought everyone was conspiring with the girl’s father to deny their happiness.’
    â€˜Poor man,’ said Hana.
    â€˜Yes. All the time she really was dead, of course – it was she who was lying to him. The rest of the story is from Hayao’s neighbour, Yusai. A man who, I must say, was just as bad a gossip as Hayao said. Still, it made him a useful source of information. One night Yusai the fortune-teller was unable to sleep, and wandering in his garden, he happened to hear a voice through his neighbour Hayao’s paper window. He peered in, by the light of his night-lantern. Inside, under the shade of a mosquito net, Hayao was talking intently to someone. Thestrange thing was that Yusai couldn’t see who he was talking to. He did hear what Hayao was saying, though.
    â€˜â€œAnd if your father should indeed disinherit you for seven lifetimes, you will come and live with me forever. And if he comes to claim you back, I will fight him. My sword has not tasted blood for many months.”
    â€˜There was a pause, then Hayao said. “Ah, my dear. I am so happy that you are not dead. I love you.”
    â€˜All of a sudden, the moon came out from behind a cloud and lit up the scene inside, so that for Yusai it was as if a lighthouse’s beam had swung round and illuminated the room. What he saw made him fall backwards, into the cruel thorns of a rosebush. For just a moment, in the light of the moon, he thought he saw the pale shape of a woman – though afterwards he convinced himself he had imagined it – and then it was gone, and he realized Hayao was speaking to nothing.’
    â€˜Ugh,’ said Hiro, shivering.
    â€˜It was Yusai who alerted the monk, Hayao’s friend, to what was going on. He thought Hayao might have gone mad, but of course the monk knew immediately that he was being haunted, and he called for me.’
    â€˜What did you do?’ said Taro.
    â€˜I told him