Interlude: Meating Mist
"Left!"
Adachi Eiji spun left, thrusting his naginata-cum-walking-stick into the teeth of a leaping brown-furred nightmare. The blade slid straight through the roof of the beast's mouth and out the top of its head, killing it instantly. Unfortunately, it also meant that he now had ten pounds of dead weight hanging off the end of his naginata and there was another of the bastards right behind the first one.
He flipped the haft of the weapon up and into the creature's face, diving aside before the claws could rip his chest open. A ninja or a storybook hero would have rolled smoothly to his feet, grabbed the beast by the scruff of its neck, and ripped its head off. Eiji was a merchant; he sprawled on the ground, frantically yanking his knife from his belt and scrambling backwards on his ass and one hand.
Before the thing could leap again Sawaya was there, her fist glowing with chakra enhancement as it smashed through the creature's spine at the base of the neck. The genin pivoted neatly around the reflexive dying snap of the teeth and punted the carcass away.
Eiji sat for a moment, bringing his breathing back under control before he spoke. "Nice job," he said, pushing himself to his feet and tucking his knife away. He tried hard to seem casual and relaxed; sure, she was a ninja and he was a civilian, but no man enjoyed looking panicked in front of a woman. Still, he was pretty sure that the stocky, flat-chested brunette's quick glance caught the quiver in his knees. For that matter, the pounding of his heart was so loud that she could probably hear it.
Sawaya shrugged. "What you pay me for." She turned, surveying the dead body. "What do you call those things, anyway?"
"Ugly," Eiji said. "Come on, let's go. I want to make it the rest of the way to Mist before nightfall."
o-o-o-o
It had been two years since Eiji had made the trip to Mist. It was a long trip from the Land of Vegetable to the Water Country, and dangerous. The winter caravans always made a modest profit; sure, you had to struggle not to freeze to death when the blizzards hit, but the sightlines were long with no leaves on the trees and much of Marsh was frozen so you didn't have to worry about being attacked while crossing. Plus you could put all the stock in sleighs and make good time. With fifty merchants clubbing up for protection it was affordable to hire enough ninja that the caravan could travel safe. Of course, with fifty merchants all splitting the profits there wasn't a lot of profit to be made. Especially when Tawara and Soga came along; born-rich bastards always insisted on selling statuary (in Water? How the hells do you make a profit dragging heavy statuary to Water?) and they couldn't negotiate worth a damn so they always brought the averages down. Of course, between them they had five ninja on permanent retainer so that helped balance things a little.
Everyone had told him he was crazy to be doing the trip in summer, by himself, with just one genin for protection. He wasn't sure why Sawaya had been willing to take the job for such a reasonable rate, but he was glad she had. If he could get
this cargo through...well, it probably wouldn't be retirement money, but it would set him up. Keep food on the table for Noriko and the kids. Pay off the debt he'd incurred to the sealmaster—and hadn't that been fun, bowing and scraping in front of a drunk old man with hands so shaky that he probably had to discard half his production? Pay the ninja their taxes (because of course we don't even think the word 'tribute', now do we?) for the next year so the family could afford to stay in the village. Pay the tutor for Akira and Kaiya so they could start out knowing how to read and write and figure instead of having to spend ten years working three jobs to scrape by while learning just enough that they didn't get ripped off. Probably not enough to buy out his debt to the speculators that had funded the trip, but enough to justify an extension. If he could make another trip before autumn then he'd be ahead of the game. Spend most of the proceeds buying two or three more storage scrolls, put some towards inventory, the rest for the family.
He could almost see that future, hanging before him like a mirage. All it needed was this one trip...and for him to have guessed right about product.
"Stop."
The voice came from above them to the left. Sawaya clearly had not detected the speaker or she would have warned him; out of the corner of his eye Eiji watched her hand twitch towards one of the kunai on her belt before she aborted the motion.
Very carefully, merchant and bodyguard turned in the direction of the hail. There was a ninja in the tree above them, wearing the camoflage pattern favored by the Village Hidden in the Mist. He was probably in his thirties, thin and weedy with a too-large chin that stretched the camoflage bandana covering the lower half of his face. Had he been a civilian he would have been the victim of village bullies, but the fact that he was sticking himself to the trunk of a tree meant that he was a ninja and therefore dangerous.
"I am Adachi Eiji," Eiji said carefully. "I'm a merchant from the Land of Vegetables. I've been here the last three years with the winter caravans and now I'm trying a summer trip."
The ninja snorted. "Uh-huh. Where's your wagon, 'merchant'?"
"I don't have one," Eiji said. "I have a storage scroll. It's in my pack."
One eyebrow went up. "A storage scroll, huh? Let's see."
Moving slowly, Eiji swung his pack off his shoulder and set it on the ground. He unbuckled the straps and flipped the top back, pulling out his waterproofed groundcloth and spreading it out before removing a canvas-covered bundle. He laid it on the cloth and unwrapped it carefully to reveal the wax-enclosed wooden scrollcase inside.
"Open it up."
Eiji suppressed a grimace. He'd known this would happen, but still.... He nodded to Sawaya, holding the scrollcase out.
Without a word she took the case from him and used a kunai to peel away the thick layer of wax before popping the endcap off and sliding out the vellum scroll itself. She held it out and did whatever it was that ninja did. A waist-high cloth-wrapped bundle fell out.
"Unwrap it," ordered the Mist ninja.
Eiji sighed, wondering how much this was going to cost him. Still, he unwrapped the bundle to reveal the massive pile of freshly-cut, still-bleeding steaks.
"Grass-fed daggerhorn from the Land of Vegetables," he said.
The sentry dropped from the tree and paced closer, his eyes locked on the meat. "That is...a lot of meat," he said.
"Yes. I noticed that the market in Mist mostly sells seafood and I thought people might like something different."
"Uh-huh." The ninja stared at the pile a moment longer before shaking himself back into focus. He pulled a wadded-up bag out of his beltpouch and threw it at Eiji. "Border tax," he said. "One quarter."
"Sir, if you take a quarter I won't be able to make a profit," Eiji said carefully. "I won't be able to afford another trip later, and that means no more border tax."
The ninja blurred across the distance between them, planted a boot on Eiji's chest and shoved, sending him sprawling. "Show respect! The tax just went up to a third!"
Thankfully, Sawaya hadn't moved when the ninja attacked. Her loose and relaxed stance would have seemed casual, except that Eiji had seen her stand just like that while a pack of spikerats prowled around the edge of their camp. When the things had finally gotten their nerve up to attack, she had launched straight into the fray without even seeming to shift her weight.
"Of course, sir! One third, as you say, sir! Please forgive me, sir!" Eiji bowed dogeza, holding it until the ninja's grunt showed that he was satisfied. The merchant quickly scrambled over and shoveled steaks into the sack. If there was still dirt on his hands from the bow then that wasn't his fault, right? And there absolutely wasn't any spit. Really.
"Here you are, sir," Eiji said, gesturing to the sack with his eyes carefully cast down. The sack actually wasn't big enough to hold a third of the meat, but what it could hold was more than he could lift while on his knees and leaning forward.
"What else you got in here?" the ninja asked, toeing Eiji's pack over and bending down to dump it out. He stirred through the camp gear until he found the nearly-flat pouch of ryo at the bottom. He poured the contents into his hand and sniffed in dissatisfaction at the amount. "Marsh Country ryo and not much of it. Pretty lousy merchant if this is all you've got."
"Sorry, sir." Eiji bowed dogeza again. "Everything else went into buying the meat, sir."
The ninja grunted again and shoved the handful of coins into his pocket. "What's in yours?" the ninja demanded. Still in dogeza with his eyes an inch from the dirt, Eiji could only assume the man was looking at Sawaya.
"Stuff."
The silence dragged on for several seconds, the tension palpable. Eiji risked turning his head a little so he could see Sawaya, standing casually with muscular arms crossed over her chest. Some crazy part of his brain couldn't help but notice that Noriko often wore that same disapproving expression when the kids had been getting up to mischief. Noriko was too buxom to comfortably cross her arms like that, though.
The tension broke when the Mist ninja stepped back. "Better hurry if you're going to make the gate before night," he said, scooping the sack of 'taxed' meat up and tying the neck in a quick knot. He tossed it over his shoulder and leaped back into the trees. There was no sign that he was at all bothered by the weight of a hundred pounds of prime grass-fed daggerhorn. Thieving bastard.
Eiji sat up, blowing out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. "Well handled," he said to Sawaya.
"What you pay me for." She moved to the stack of meat and rewrapped it with deft fingers before shoving it back into the storage scroll.
By the time she was done, Eiji had already gathered his gear up and into his pack. He swung it onto his shoulder with a practiced motion. "You heard the man," he said. "We'll need to hurry."
She didn't say a word, just fell in beside him as he strode off down the poorly-maintained trail.
o-o-o-o
They made it with minutes to spare, the city gates closing practically on their heels. Each of the gate guards had "confiscated" a pair of steaks as the "entrance fee", but that was expected. The scroll was only about half-full now, not nearly enough to pay for the trip. Still, Eiji headed straight for the night market, pausing only briefly to pull enough coin out of the moneybelt he wore under his shirt that he would be able to pay the vendor fee.
The merchant factor who ran the night market was a civilian and a professional; he demanded only the standard rate, rattled off the standard rules, and let them get on their way.
Eiji found an unused section of the plaza and spread out his groundcloth. Sawaya unsealed the remaining meat and then stepped back to stand guard, arms folded on her chest and eyes constantly roving.
The meat sold quickly, as Eiji had expected. It was a luxury in Mist and the money was good. If he'd had the full contents of his scroll then he could have afforded an inn for the night and still brought that imagined mirage-future into reality. As it was...not so much.
The pile was almost gone when Sawaya leaned in. "Ready for the rest?" she asked quietly. At Eiji's nod she reached under her shirt and unwound the bandages that were binding her breasts flat and also holding the second storage scroll to her chest. She unwrapped it, stripped the wax off the scrollcase, and unsealed the second pile of meat.
"Fresh meat!" Eiji cried into the seething mass of potential customers. "Grass-fed daggerhorn steaks, fresh from the Land of Vegetables! Tender and juicy! Fresh steaks!"
