The Inn
24 September 2005
by Jason Postma

The last light of the setting sun painted the walls of the small travel inn scarlet as the merchant approached. Tokige wiped the sweat from his brow on his sleeve and sighed heavily as he took in the sight. This would be the last time he would pass this way. A pity, in a way. The inns in Crane lands were always of some of the best quality, even the small ones. This one had wooden floors where any Unicorn inn of the same size would rely on packed earth and layers of tatami mats.

He walked over to the well and drained the dipper three times while he watched the inn. There were no sounds from within. A slow night, apparently. Not really surprising. When Otosan Uchi had been the Emperor's City this road was a busy highway. Now that was all ended.

He approached the inn. "Hari! Hari, you scoundrel! You have a customer!" Tokige peered through the windows just in time to see a startled face look back out at him. "Uriko! Go tell your husband he has a customer!" Fortunes! That woman got uglier every year.

Tokige could clearly hear the sound of Uriko racing across the inn's floors to the back, and then Hari's shouts at her for not waking him sooner. He shook his head. The inn might be of good quality, but he would not miss having to look at that ugly face and listening to Hari yell at her.

In a matter of moments Hari the innkeeper appeared at the door, all smiles and fawning bows for him.

"Tokige-san, I'm so sorry that I did not hear your approach. I was busy in the back. Uriko! Sake for our honored guest! You must come in and rest yourself by my fire." Hari ushered Tokige quickly inside, noting at a glance the heavy and jingling travel pack he carried. "I trust your business has gone well?"

"Well enough. Where is that sake?"

As he supped on rice balls and fish, Tokige reflected that the woman might be ugly but she could certainly cook. Hari kept up a steady stream of pleasantries throughout the meal that he barely nodded to. Finally he sat back and lit his pipe.

"So, Tokige-san, I will have Uriko prepare your normal room. Will you be staying more than a night?" Hari had paid no more notice to what he had been saying than had Tokige. He had been much more interested in calculating how much coin must be in that purse and musing over what Tokige would accept as the bill.

"No Hari-san. In fact, this will be the last time you will have to indulge my company." That caught Hari's attention.

"You have closed the trading house?"

"Hai. There aren't enough people in Otosan Uchi to make it worth the trouble. Not enough with money, in any case. No, I sold the house." Tokige patted the purse at his side. "The Fortunes know I let it go for far less than it was worth, but there was just no point to it anymore. It's been six years – the Emperor isn't going to rebuild the city. The ronin are running it, and ronin have no koku."

Hari was silent at that. Tokige was right – if the city was going to be rebuilt it would have happened by now. He had made less and less each year since it had fallen. He would have to go back to being a farmer, or worse. He looked up to see Tokige regarding him with a strange, crooked half-smile on his face. He was mocking him! Oh yes, sell your trading house and your inventory and move back to the Unicorn lands to start again, you old bandit! But who is going to buy an inn that does no business?

"Please excuse me. I will go see what's keeping Uriko." Hari got up and walked slowly away, seething.

Sanuro approached the inn wearily. It looked like it had seen better times, so they might be thankful for what little coin he had, but he was still in Crane lands. They did not welcome ronin here. There had better be real work in Otosan Uchi – this journey had not been easy. He walked up to the well and had a long drink as the innkeeper appeared.

"Greetings ronin-san. You wish to stay the night?" The innkeeper had the look of a man who had once had much more meat on his bones. What was the old proverb? Never trust a skinny innkeeper? Well he wouldn't trust him then. Sanuro was used to sleeping with his sword handy.

"Hai. How much further is it to Otosan Uchi?"

"A day's travel at least. You would have to sleep on the road if you did not stay here." The innkeeper looked over the ronin. His kimono had certainly seen better days, and his purse appeared light. "You have money?"

Sanuro's expression remained unchanged. That was another insult that long years as a ronin had taught him to bear.

"Hai, a little." He pulled a handful of small coins from his purse, his last, and jingled them in his hand. "Or I could do some small task for you perhaps? Woodcutting? Carpentry?"

The innkeeper's entire manner changed when he saw the coins. "Yes, you can stay. It will be ten zeni for a night's rest with a meal. I don't need any wood cut."

Sanuro counted out the innkeeper's price, and refilled his purse with far fewer coins than he had just given away. Either he found work in Otosan Uchi tomorrow or he would have to go hungry.

"Come in. I am Hari. My wife is Uriko. We shall prepare a room immediately." The innkeeper bowed low and led him into the empty common room.

Sanuro took a seat near the fire and stretched out a bit, though he was careful to place his sword in reach. He looked up to see a plain woman serving him sake. Like the innkeeper, she looked like she had seen better times. There were deep circles under her eyes and she approached him like a frightened bird, ready to take flight at a moment.

Ah, the city. This road must have once been a busy highway, carrying the richest samurai on the emperor's business. These people and he were one of a kind. They had all seen better times. He began to relax a bit.

"You want me to act as your yojimbo? A ronin you just met in a roadside inn?" Sanuro looked the Scorpion before him up and down. Of course he could not see his full expression, but the man seemed sincere. What game was he playing at? Sanuro had never trusted the Scorpion when he had belonged to a clan, and if anything he trusted them even less now. Still, the man was offering enough money to feed him for weeks. And what did he have to lose?

Coin exchanged hands, and Sanuro went to his room with more money in his purse than he had had for a long time.

Perhaps things were turning up. Perhaps the fortunes were finally about to smile on him.

Sanuro slapped at a mosquito as he unrolled the futon in the room and lay down, his sword close at hand.

Perhaps he had been forgiven...