Chapter 10: Theater

General Hiroki Sakuraba was delighted with the entertainer he had picked up. Not only did she look beautiful, but she had a good voice, could play her instrument very well and could also dance.

For the first time since he had taken over this miserable town, evening entertainment no longer consisted solely of drinking sake in the company of his subordinates. Moreover, the miko had assured him that this girl was clean and willing to keep him company at night.

Yun had skillfully prepared herself, knowing full well that a great deal depended on her art. Her plans were made easier by the fact that she had no competition. It would be easy to share the general’s bed. Once there, she had no doubt that he would fall for her. Even the miko seemed to regret that she now had to hand Yun over to the general.

Well, there were many hours in a day and socially prominent women had a lot of time on their hands. There would certainly be opportunities for a rendezvous with the miko. She just had to be careful not to arouse the general’s displeasure.

Yun moved provocatively. She skillfully used gestures and movements that hinted at something that was frowned upon, but could also be meant completely harmlessly due to ambiguity. Unfortunately, there was no musical accompaniment, which was necessary for a truly perfect performance. She could sing very well, but not in Japanese. She was missing important words.

Yun had previously danced at the royal court and had also received diplomatic training, so she spoke Japanese reasonably well. However, it was not enough for a perfect vocal performance in the language and would even have been detrimental to her, as she would then have to explain how she knew the language so well. She deliberately spoke worse than she could and often pretended not to understand some words.

Of course, the general would still not say anything about military matters in her presence, because it could always be assumed that she was a spy for the king, but Yun didn’t care. For one thing, she had extremely good hearing and could understand everything from the next room, and for another, she was only casually interested in military secrets. It was enough for her to know what the general situation was like and where the fighting was taking place. Nothing really explosive.

As she danced like this, Yun began to develop her vague plan. She had an idea of how she could involve De-Yong. She finished her performance with a deep bow, which also gave the general a glimpse of her cleavage.

Well, not the whole performance of course, that had only been the prelude. The main piece would now follow. It was just a pity that she had to do without the general’s blood.

At least for the time being.

Teiko had not attended the entire performance. She had only remained present at the beginning to find out whether the general was satisfied. After not too long, he gave the sign that the miko could withdraw.

Teiko had followed the order with an inner regret, because she had taken a liking to this girl. She would have loved to spend the night with her, the tugging in her abdomen, the longing in her breast buds for the tender nibbling of this artist of love, was almost painful. But of course the girl belonged to the general as spoils of war. And when he was tired of her, he would pass her on upstairs as a gift.

As a miko, Teiko could not expect to have such a love artist as her personal servant. In her home country, she would be highly sought after as a geisha and also out of reach for her. She simply could not afford such a woman.

To take her mind off things, Teiko tried to concentrate on her tasks again. She visited the room with the demon head and looked carefully into the jar to see if everything was all right.

The buttermilk in which the head had been soaked had started to turn sour. Teiko wondered whether this could harm the head. A decomposing head would not be a nice present for the daimyo. Replacing the buttermilk with sake seemed advisable.

On the other hand, it was no ordinary head, but something supernatural. Decomposition was not to be feared. Sake was expensive and rare, as was buttermilk.

Teiko had been surprised when she learned that the head had been soaked in buttermilk. But when she had heard that it had stunk unbearably, she had accepted it. Now she was curious.

She carefully reached into the broth and pulled out the fox’s head. After her last experience, she held it so that it couldn’t spit at her.

It was a strange sight when the seemingly dead fox head spat out the acidic liquid. Even this time, although it remained a small belch, it didn’t spit a few steps away. Well, the demon was still alive.

Curiously, Teiko smelled the skull. It smelled of spoiled buttermilk, but also faintly of something else, more disgusting. Without further ado, she ordered one of the guards to pour out the jug, organize a new, clean head crate and bring in a bucket of fresh water and wash clothes. She would have liked to do this outside, but it was impossible to get the head out of the secure room.

“There you go, demon. I think we’ll get you looking handsome again,” she addressed the head. “And if you promise not to spit on me or bite me, I won’t be any rougher than necessary!”

She carefully turned the skull around and looked the demon in the eye. Was it deceiving her, or did she recognize anger in it? Well, at least the skull wasn’t trying to snap.

“That’s right, always be good, then I’ll even make you really beautiful! After all, you are a female demon and women should stick together, even if they are enemies!”

Of course, it would be theater for both sides. A miko and a demoness would always remain mortal enemies. But respect should also apply to an enemy.

The samurai brought the washing things and Teiko set to work. Always careful to stay away from the skull’s sharp teeth. She did not want to strengthen the demon with her blood.

No, Miyahara San, I have never mentioned your name! And I haven’t spoken to anyone else about it either!”

The man looked at Taka with a face consumed with pain.

“Argh!”

The samurai from Taka’s bodyguard had pulled the rope tighter, and the fingers, between which sharp-edged bamboo sticks had been inserted, continued to be pressed together painfully. Blood dripped from the interpreter’s bound hands.

“A lie!” Taka replied angrily. “I was told otherwise by witnesses!”

They spent half the night here in a stable, where they interrogated the negotiator from the afternoon. But despite the torture, he had never contradicted himself. Either he was an excellent liar or he was telling the truth. Taka was beginning to believe the latter.

He gave a sign to loosen the lacing a little.

“Describe to me again the woman who supposedly outbid you!”

The man falteringly repeated what had happened and described the woman as best he could. Pure mortal fear was written all over his face.

Taka paced back and forth in the stable thoughtfully, paying no further attention to the whimpering man. Where had the herbalist gotten Taka’s name from? Was it perhaps the man he was looking for after all? The woman didn’t say anything to Taka either. He hadn’t met her yet. It could hardly be the miko, she would have been easy to identify in her ritual clothing.

So all that remained was that Kazuki had lied to cover for the actual spy at Taka. That meant that he could no longer trust any of his men.

“You can go!” he said to the prisoner, who looked up in surprise. He had already expected to die.

“Untie him and give him a piece of silver!” ordered Taka. “And you,” he turned to the prisoner again, “keep quiet about our conversation, otherwise your headless corpse will be seen floating in the next river!”

Overjoyed, the man nodded, grabbed the coin that was thrown into the dust in front of him and disappeared as quickly as possible.

Taka wondered what he could do now. The priest was untouchable. Simply murdering him would bring him the wrath of the daimyo, and he would not be able to regain possession of the head.

What if he stole the priest’s herb?

Taka was not a thief. He could not commit such a dishonorable act. It was really too bad that he was so far away from home, where there were known thieves who could do such things for you.

The cursed priest had probably won this battle. Well, the head was not yet on its way to the daimyo. If the army moved on, General Sakuraba could not simply travel to the capital to hand over the head. Perhaps all was not yet lost.

Taka would try to put a brave face on it and wait for the next chance. Not every swoop of a falcon was successful, but he would eventually get his prey if he persisted.

Teiko had cleaned the head as well as possible and then dried it. Then she had tied it to the small platform where the jug had previously stood so that it could finish drying. She would have liked to put it in rice, but rice was very expensive and scarce at the moment. Wasting it on a demon was out of the question.

She renewed the incense sticks and repeated the protective prayers to prevent the demon from escaping or getting supernatural help. Although demons were considered loners, they would stick together in the event of an attack against one of them.

Fortunately, kumihos were considered so rare that there was no reason to expect another one in the foreseeable future. In fact, this was not only the first kumiho Teiko had seen, but also the first she had ever heard of being captured. The kitsune of her homeland, which were most similar to the kumiho, were considered less powerful, but they were more common. And more troublesome. But fending them off was the job of a miko.