Shirosato studied herself in the poor reflection offered by the bronze mirror, which she used to clumsily apply the paints she had memorized from one of the brothel customers. She’d had overheard him mentioning his large family and as such, she hoped she wouldn’t stand by copying this specific Hosseru’s face paint. A purple band went around eyes from ear to ear, which would mark her as a member of that merchant class. A silver bottom lip indicated she was unmarried, though to that she added a golden upper lip to give the impression she was betrothed. Finally she added three vertical lines below her left eye and connected them with a horizontal bar, making her the fifth child.

“Good enough,” she said to herself, then quietly returned her palette to its hiding place. A hidden drawer in her vanity. She checked to make sure she had placed the mat under which she had hidden her jewelry in its proper place, leaving no gaps that would betray its secrets.

As a major source of income to the brothel, she had her own that overlooked the large gardens behind the structure. Had it not been a prison, it would have been a pleasant view of the small cabins that littered the well tended flower gardens, haphazardly scattered around the blossoming trees and ingenious water features. Under the pink flowers of the trees, swaying in the wind, were brown earthen jars. Each riddled with small holes that let the light of a dozen fireflies through, illuminating the garden in soft yellows and blues.

Some of the girls in training were rushing to get the jars in, casting looks at the sky. Dark clouds were rolling in from the sea, bringing the scent of rain and promise of stronger winds with them, as if they wanted to announce the storm that would follow.

Shirosato stood staring out the window, welcoming the inclement weather. It would mean fewer people out and about and less chance of being recognized by a brothel regular.

As property of the brothel, she needed permission from the owners to go out and about. She’d have little trouble gaining the freedom she wanted, being one of the more valuable kechi in the brothel, but she had to tell them where she was going, which was exactly what she had no inclination of doing.

That’s why she stepped onto the awning outside her window and briefly froze when the night’s first bolt of lightning illuminated her shape against the white walls.

She held her breath, waiting for the brothel guards to call a challenge, but it remained quiet.

Sighing in relief, she rushed down the ivies that covered the walls.

The first rain started to fall when her feet touched the wooden path that went along the house. She looked up, smiled, then covered her head with a shawl and rushed out of the pleasure district.

Rei skipped from puddle to puddle, coating her bare feet in a thin layer of muddy grim. Nana walked slightly ahead of her, determinedly avoiding the water, her eyes fixed on the city gates.

In front of the towering gray walls, made from huge chiseled boulders, a small crowd had gathered, covering themselves with paper umbrellas. None of them seemed very interested in what was being presented, though as they had to wait to be let into the city, they might as well have a look.

They were all watching a giant bluish pill bug that was being auctioned. It was a familiar sight, as it belonged to the merchant they had robbed.

Rei stopped skipping and Nana could feel the younger girl’s eyes judgementally burn into her back.

She kept walking, ignoring her bondwoman that fell into step with her.

“You know…” she started.

“I know,” Nana sighed, her tone terse, “That a merchant not able to pay his tariffs after being robbed, probably has no business being a merchant.”

Rei folded her arms demonstratively and turned her face away from Nana as they strode on towards the gates.

Two bored looking guards were sheltering from the rain under the guards, sighing when they saw the two women approach, annoyed they’d have to get to wrok.

The two, one male and one female, halted them as they tried to walk into the gates without letting the guards check them.

“Not so fast,” the woman said.

Nana stopped and studied the guards. Each had a purple star around their eye and a blue bar around the other, indicating they were soldiers from the hosseru class. They had painted lips, indicating their ranks, but even though Nana was from a military background, she was so far from home and so far removed from the rank and file, she hadn’t the foggiest what either meant.

“Evening,” she said, placing her hands behind her head, “Can we go in?”

The guards looked at each other, then to the crestfallen merchant and finally back to Nana.

“Looks like he wasn’t lying,” the woman said, “Go tell him.”

“Sergeant, you don’t need…?”

“I do not need your help, no, soldier. Move!”

The soldier beat his left fist against the same chest in salute, then rushed to stop the auction.

“As for your two,” the female sergeant continued, “You’re either the dumbest criminals in the Empire or have the tantuo big misfortune of wearing their colors.”

“Whatever do you mean, sergeant?” Rei repeated, trying to sound as innocent as possible.

“It was them!” the merchant shouted as he rushed over, “I recognize her voice!”

“Well then” the guard said, “I knew there were no coincidences. Surrender your weapons and come quietly.”

Nana reached for her blade, pretending to draw the weapon which was the guard’s moment to grab Nana’s wrist and stop her from arming herself.

“Oh,” Nana said tonelessly, “They’ve got us. Surrender your weapon.”

Rei nodded, took a small dagger from under her skirt, baring her hip as she did, then tossed the blue blade to the dirt.

“Come with me,” the guard snapped, turning to the merchant as she did, “We’ll find where they hid your marubu sir. And our sincerest apologies for the mistrust.”

“The magistrate will be hearing about this!” the merchant, who went from crestfallen to furious, screamed at the guards. “I’ll be staying in the Bee’s Sting. You better find out where they hid my marubu.”

The female guard hit her right chest with her left fist, then gestured her prisoners to follow her, tucking the captive’s blades under her tatami armor.

The prisoners had been stripped off their clothes and belongings, then brought to a poorly constructed stockade in the middle of town. Inside of the stockade were more wooden poles, each evenly spaced from the others.

The guards manhandled their prisoners to the poles, roughly pushing their bodies against the splintering wood. They roughly pulled their hands to the other side of the wood, crossing their wrists and tying them together.

The guard drew her sidearm, which amounted to little more than a thick ridged wooden stick.

She rasped it on the wood in preparation, locked eyes with Rei, then stepped behind her. The wood connected with her bare flesh.

“It’s over when you tell me where it is…” the guard said calmly.

Rei threw Nana a pleading look. Nana shook her head. Rei stayed silent.

More blows fell to the girl’s back, which Rei accepted impassively, not showing a sign of pain or even discomfort.

The rain meanwhile picked up and the guard stopped her assault of the defenseless flesh.

“I’ll be back later,” she screamed over the deluge, “And you will talk!”

Hurriedly the woman retreated to the guardhouse, leaving the prisoners to catch their death in the storm.

It remained quiet for some time, aside from the thick raindrops drilling into the dirt, turning the poorly maintained sand into a pool of mud.

“So?” Rei asked, even though Nana couldn’t hear her.

Nana was busy scanning the stockade, trying to find out if they were alone.

A flash of lightning wasa what she needed. Had she not been looking for him, she would not have spotted the shape of the other prisoner, but there was somebody there, slumped against his pole in a mockery of sleep.

“Out!” she called to Rei, then called again when she wasn’t sure if she had heard her.

“Out it is,” Rei responded calmly, then tugged on her ropes until she had slightly more freedom of movement. She lithely hopped up, pressing the insides her knees against the pole and started to climb, using the ropes as an improvised climbing rope.

She hummed to herself until she reached the top of the pole, where she squatted on top of the slippery wood.

The pole was about four times taller than she was, but she hoped down undeterred and the grace of her landing was only marred by her slipping away in the dirt and coating herself in mud even further.

Without bothering to untie herself, she started on Nana’s bonds who only gave a curt nod in thanks.

She dusted her wrists off, then strode to the other prisoner where she squatted down to check his vitals and then sighed in annoyance.

“He’s dead,” she called to Rei, then made a lap around the stocakde, finding nothing but traces of former prisoners in the damaged poles.

“Back we go,” she sighed and returned to her pole to let Rei retie her.

“Is your back okay?” she checked with her bondwoman.

“You hit tantuo harder,” the girl said, giving her a weak smile.

“Language,” was the automatic sharp answer from Nana, though added with a soft smile, “Besides, when I hit you, it’s out of love.”

“Sure, Tassi,” Rei answered, laughing for real now, then, just as casually as she had left the pole, she returned to it, quietly waiting for more to happen.

The palace in Dekamu was an unimposing simple structure. Simple and practical, chosen for its unassailable position along the cliff side. On one side, deep below it, the ocean rushed against the jagged rocks. On the other side, a narrow road surrounded by more rock.

By all accounts, it was unapproachable for any army, though not the solitary figure that rowed up to the rear of the castle.

They found their way through a hidden path, then stepped out of their boat to start the climb. A spider like approached, varying between scaling the sheer surface and using their hook shot to skip the impassable obstacles.

Finally, the hook shot hooked into a small piece of the castle that balanced precariously over the edge of the rocks.

Using only the incredible strength in their arms, the visitor pulled themselves up by the rope until they found a hidden door, that for the casual observer would look like nothing more than the shoots for the castle latrines.

When they were inside the walls of the palace, they dusted themselves off, locked the portal behind them and rushed to meet their master, the lord Dekamu.

The lord Dekamu was a sinewy man, on who a few extra arms and legs would not have looked out of place. His square face was generally pinched in contemplation and to add to the image of a panicked insect he displayed, he had the habit of scuttling about his chambers as he waited for one of the dozens of spies he had throughout the Empire to bring him news.

Few people enjoyed the man’s presence, which he thought was fine as it saved him the effort of putting on his face. A cultural habit he found frivolous at best, unnecessary and in his worst moods, a waste of time that could be used to plot against his enemies, which was a long list. At the moment his enemy du jour was whoever decided the face paint heraldry and he considered how he would punish their descendants when he became Gunari.

“My lord,” he suddenly heard from the walls. He recognized the voice as his one of his more mobile spies.

“I have urgent news, lord,” they said from within the hidden passage in the walls.

“Do you now?” the lord replied, stopping his pacing only briefly, then continuing as he listened.

“The Gunari caught wind of your operation, he’s sent Dragonflies to Choukishi to investigate.”

The Dekamu stopped moving and slapped his leg in annoyance, then started to stomp like an irate child and turned to yell at the wall.

“He wasn’t supposed to find out yet! He will not be where I want him!”

“Duly noted,” the spy said dryly, “Your orders? Elimination?”

There was a soft sense of hope to the spy’s request for murder.

Dekamu shook his head, made a few more circles, then answered.

“Put them on a different trail. See if you can’t draw their eyes towards Tunetou.”

“My lord,” the spy said, acknowledging their orders.

They left the same way they had entered, returning to the rowboat between the rocks.

After a deep sigh, they started the trek towards the nearest staging inn so they could get a flight to Choukishi.