Hamada Castle sat atop a hill by the coast, and consumed the entirety of that hill. The grand walls contained open air courtyards in which the famous gardens prospered, and the structures set about in interlocking squares were elegantly furnished and painted inside and out.

  While the castle was large, its inhabitants were actually rather few. While it maintained a garrison of some two-hundred Ashigaru, those men and women lived in the lower barracks set into the hillside, nearer to the town proper. The castle hosted merely eight Samurai permanently, as well as thirty permanent servants, and additional quarters for twenty extra servants seasonally.

  Should the castle ever have need to host Winter Court, it could theoretically sustain nearly five-thousand people. All of those rooms sit empty during the rest of the year however, making the place huge and most of all, quiet. Maddeningly so in Koromi’s opinion, compared the crowded forge-halls of Dojima’s home in Satsuma.

  It did however make it relatively easy to locate newcomers. Koromi found herself soon standing on the front step of the estate itself. A courtyard of stone lay ahead of her, the castle’s main gate and outer walls beyond that. In addition to the beautiful designer vehicles the family had year-round, two new ones had arrived with Michisue.

  One, likely that which the Oda himself arrived in, was an exotic sports car of Igashi make. The design was popular in Furumi, across the east sea, using materials provided by the Norse and Chinook. The cars were shipped over the ocean then, and were signs of great wealth, or at least a wealthy benefactor willing to grant them.

  Less beautiful was the large, bulky armored personnel carrier that had parked in one corner of the courtyard. A military vehicle of gray steel, eight huge tires and a gun turret, thankfully angled up toward the sky. Ashigaru in military uniforms milled about, aiding Michisue’s servant retinue in unloading his belongings for his stay. They wore the signature red and black of Oda. Full face-covering helmets with bold crests. Rifles slung over their backs, uchigatanas at their hips.

  Their leader, or at least who Koromi assumed to be their leader, broke off from their ranks when Koromi had stood there for long enough. A Samurai, wearing lighter-weight armor similar to the Ashigaru, likely their unit leader. He had long black hair tied back in a ponytail, and his face was androgynous enough to almost be considered feminine. Attractive, to be sure, but those disarming looks were accompanied by plated armor, a daishō set and an odachi slung to his back.

  When he reached Koromi, who stood a head taller than him, especially standing on the front step as she was, he bowed deeply to her. Koromi stepped down from the wooden rise to face him on equal footing, the clack of her sandals striking the stone an audible alert to the still-bowing man before her. Koromi still had a height advantage, and bowed in turn.

  “Lady Oda,” The Samurai said, “I am Sakai Kazukata, Lord Oda Michisue’s yojimbo and unit leader.”

  He rose then to stand straight, and added, “My sincerest apologies for bringing such an ugly vehicle into such a gorgeous castle, my Lady. I will have it removed once Lord Oda’s belongings are unloaded.”

  “Your consideration is kind.” Koromi said, “Lord Oda informed me of the purpose of your visit. Disastrous news.” Koromi wasn’t technically lying. She had, after all, been told that Michisue was there to deliver dire news.

  Kazukata furrowed his brow, and then bowed his head for a moment, “It is. Disastrous feels almost like an understatement, my Lady. Did you know him?”

  So someone had died. Someone of importance. Oda Tameyasu perhaps, Tomokore’s father. Or the family branch’s head, Naochika. Worse, perhaps, Oda’s Chief Magistrate, Aritomo.

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  Koromi knew none of them directly. “Only in passing.” She said, “He can be replaced, if with great pain.”

  Kazukata almost scoffed, and Koromi could tell this is why he was a unit leader and not a courtier. “I cannot see how. With no heirs and no regent.”

  Koromi’s heart skipped a beat. Surely he did not mean the Shogun? The man was only fifty, in a society where lives could be extended easily over one-hundred.

  And yet…

  “Tanetaka.” Koromi said quietly, with less conviction than she’d have liked, for her heart was beating faster and her mind was racing circles, waiting for the confirmation.

  It came with no words, though Koromi watched as Kazuhata’s face shifted between several emotions. Sadness, realization, regret and fear. He’d realized then that Koromi had duped him, and he politely excused himself, “I must return to my duties.” Kazuhata said, his voice shaking enough to confirm everything had she not already been sure.

  “As you should.” Koromi said, though she’d already looked past him, her eyes peering out past the samurai. Toward the open gate, where one could see only trees through its arch. Their dark green foliage obscuring the view of Hamada proper, and beyond Hamada, far to the east, Edo. If it was not already in chaos, it would be quickly.

  No sooner did Kazuhata turn away did Koromi quietly, politely, slowly make her way back into the estate. Walking calmly until she was out of view of the front courtyard, then breaking into a faster keel as she rushed toward her quarters at the estate’s rear. First in her sandals, then discarding them to unashamedly run as fast as her kimono would allow on bare feet.

  The sound of her padding across wood and tatami creaked each hall she passed through, and struck alarm onto several servants who saw their Lady nearly sprinting.

  When at last she reached her room, sliding the paper door open and then slamming it shut behind her, Koromi swiftly crossed the cramped quarters to a bookshelf. Her personal quarters were far smaller than the master bedroom she was meant to call home, being those of a servant she’d converted, as it was improper for a Lady of the House to be seen practicing the sword in front of visitors.

  The smaller room, which opened into a tiny yet blessedly concealed garden, gave her privacy for swordplay, calligraphy and other hobbies of the evening. It also gave her room to hide things, like the Igashi S-35 cell phone tucked away in a small box behind a cluster of books.

  It was most improper for a Samurai, much less a Lady, to have her own phone in remote towns such as this. In Edo, or Heaven forbid one should visit it, ōtori, such personal devices were common, as the megacities were vast and varied. In Hamada however, and towns like it, it was generally accepted that if a Samurai need place a call, it should happen over one of the estate’s central comm lines. That way outbound calls can be catalogued, tracked and sometimes listened in on by the Magistrate. It was for everyone’s own good in theory.

  Koromi had secured the phone from a servant who had purchased it during a trip to Kyoto for wine, two winters past, using coin Koromi had given her for that explicit task. For the most part it languished in its box behind the bookshelf, waiting to be used only in times of need.

  Such as this. Koromi flicked the small switch on the side of the rectangular box, and listened to the silent whir of its internals booting up, the Igashi family symbol appearing on the screen. Only two contacts were registered in the phone: The servant from whom Koromi had gotten it, who now worked for the Oda family in Higo, and Koromi’s sister, Dojima Mako.

  The servant was a valuable source of information, albeit an infrequent and sparse one, on happenings closer to her home in Satsuma. Mako however had, as of one year prior, moved to Edo to seek a marriage partner and practice court at Dojima’s enclave in Edo.

  Koromi selected the contact from the list with shaking fingers, eyes glued to the small LED screen as it processed the request, dialed the number, and rang. And rang… and rang. When at last the device asked that a message be left, Koromi spoke softly, “Call me when you can. As soon as you can.” And then clicked the receiver button to end it.

  Mako had easier access to her phone since she lived in Edo, but it was unlikely to be carried with her if she was at court. Thus it could be some time before she got back, if she got back.

  The waiting game had begun, and so far from Edo, the only thing Koromi could do was sit in silence and worry.