It was nearing dusk when the Jung smugglers spotted the woman on the far side of the cove. It was difficult to discern much due to the distance and gathering gloom, but they fancied that she was elegantly dressed and more suited to the streets of Jima than this remote coastal setting. Strangely, although it was too far to make out her face, many of the pirates had found themselves turning away from her seemingly steady gaze, which they found deeply unsettling for reasons they couldn't fathom.
Tora had initially halted the loading of the cargo to assess whether there was any threat, but when no one else appeared, she eventually lost patience. A kohanin was dispatched to bring the unwelcome spectator back to their vessel. If the woman was so interested in their endeavours, she was welcome to join them. The Jung were not fussy about taking passengers on this particular voyage.
As the sailor waded across the cove, a sudden sea mist descended and concealed both he and the intended quarry. For a time they continued to hear the dull splashes of his progress but then there was silence. No cries of fear or protest and no sounds of him returning with the prisoner. When the mist lifted, they saw why. The woman remained motionless, her position and posture unchanged. The kohanin however lay prone and unmoving at her feet. Furthermore, the woman was no longer alone.
The small crowd of strangers may have passed for simple villagers, farmers, burakumin even, were it not for the strange ivory masks that covered their faces. The Jung were fond of telling ghost stories. From the safety of their vessels, tales gleaned from drunken merchants of souls lost to the will of Yurei through black magics, seemed little more than a laughable curiosity. There was no laughter among the crew now.
Tora seemed momentarily uncertain and so Jori offered her his counsel.
"We should finish loading the cargo and depart swiftly, Mistress Tora." At his words, the young Juhinin emerged from her reverie and shook her head.
"You forget that Uncle Hibiki is due to arrive after dark to escort us. We must prepare lanterns to signal him of the danger. Then we will leave." Jori gestured to the cliff behind them.
"Hibiki's ship will arrive from the south. He won't see the lanterns until he has sailed into the cove."
"Correct," asserted Tora. "We will take sampans into the middle of the cove, ground them on the sandbank and set the lanterns there." Jori sighed inwardly. That seemed like a time sapping undertaking. The masked men had already begun to wade out towards them.
"And the cargo, Mistress? We will not have time..."
"No, we will not." agreed Tora. "but if we are fortunate, it may provide us with the necessary distraction to escape." Jori gazed across at the makeshift holding pen further down the shore. He could already hear faint cries of alarm as some of the occupants became aware of the approaching threat.
"Mistress Tora," he gasped. "If the stories are to believed, that is a fate worse than..."
"Slavery?", Tora replied grimly. "Perhaps, but rather them than us. I don't think a mask would suit me." Jori ignored the attempt at humour and tried one last form of reason.
"But what of the profit?" he asserted. She shrugged in response.
"I will take responsibility, Uncle Hibiki will understand."
Uncle Hibiki will have us all flogged apart from you, thought Jori to himself. This was madness, they had no time for Tora's plan. This was just an adventure for her, another story with which to impress the Pirate Queen when they next returned to port. However, there was no reasoning with her now. She was already down by the boats, shouting instructions to the remaining kohanin. More worryingly, she seemed quite content to risk her own life in this endeavour. Jori sighed and grabbed his harpoon. If he did not deliver the favoured Jung Princess to her precious uncle from this battle unharmed, a flogging would be the least of his concerns.
Tora had initially halted the loading of the cargo to assess whether there was any threat, but when no one else appeared, she eventually lost patience. A kohanin was dispatched to bring the unwelcome spectator back to their vessel. If the woman was so interested in their endeavours, she was welcome to join them. The Jung were not fussy about taking passengers on this particular voyage.
As the sailor waded across the cove, a sudden sea mist descended and concealed both he and the intended quarry. For a time they continued to hear the dull splashes of his progress but then there was silence. No cries of fear or protest and no sounds of him returning with the prisoner. When the mist lifted, they saw why. The woman remained motionless, her position and posture unchanged. The kohanin however lay prone and unmoving at her feet. Furthermore, the woman was no longer alone.
The small crowd of strangers may have passed for simple villagers, farmers, burakumin even, were it not for the strange ivory masks that covered their faces. The Jung were fond of telling ghost stories. From the safety of their vessels, tales gleaned from drunken merchants of souls lost to the will of Yurei through black magics, seemed little more than a laughable curiosity. There was no laughter among the crew now.
Tora seemed momentarily uncertain and so Jori offered her his counsel.
"We should finish loading the cargo and depart swiftly, Mistress Tora." At his words, the young Juhinin emerged from her reverie and shook her head.
"You forget that Uncle Hibiki is due to arrive after dark to escort us. We must prepare lanterns to signal him of the danger. Then we will leave." Jori gestured to the cliff behind them.
"Hibiki's ship will arrive from the south. He won't see the lanterns until he has sailed into the cove."
"Correct," asserted Tora. "We will take sampans into the middle of the cove, ground them on the sandbank and set the lanterns there." Jori sighed inwardly. That seemed like a time sapping undertaking. The masked men had already begun to wade out towards them.
"And the cargo, Mistress? We will not have time..."
"No, we will not." agreed Tora. "but if we are fortunate, it may provide us with the necessary distraction to escape." Jori gazed across at the makeshift holding pen further down the shore. He could already hear faint cries of alarm as some of the occupants became aware of the approaching threat.
"Mistress Tora," he gasped. "If the stories are to believed, that is a fate worse than..."
"Slavery?", Tora replied grimly. "Perhaps, but rather them than us. I don't think a mask would suit me." Jori ignored the attempt at humour and tried one last form of reason.
"But what of the profit?" he asserted. She shrugged in response.
"I will take responsibility, Uncle Hibiki will understand."
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