The Tengu's Game of Go by Lian Hearn Page A

attention to Chika. He became one person, fully visible. The surviving brother caught sight of him out of the corner of his eye and thrust at him. Mu made one of the lightning-fast feints the tengu had taught him.
    â€œLeave him!” Chika cried. “This one is mine!”
    Mu took a light step back, as the man swung at him again. He could have killed him then, but he heeded Chika’s command.
    â€œYour brother’s dead,” Chika shouted. “Your father, too! Go and join them!”
    Unsettled, enraged, his opponent hurled himself forward. Chika’s sword tip found his throat.
    Kiku gave a cry of appreciation. Mu could see him. Day was breaking.
    â€œLet’s go!” Chika said to Mu and, side by side, they leaped onto the wall. All three dropped soundlessly down to the other side. They did not go back to the boat but ran swiftly away from the house, which was now ablaze, through the narrow streets, following the river upstream. By the time the sun rose they were walking along a high dike that separated the rice fields from the river. They strolled in a leisurely way, as though they had risen early to enjoy the autumn morning air. Eventually, they came to a pier jutting out over the water. The mudbanks were exposed by the low tide, and herons and plovers patrolled the shoreline, feeding. Under the pier, Kuro was waiting in a small boat, similar to the one they had crossed over in.
    They did not speak as they climbed aboard. Kiku went first, followed by Mu. Chika handed his sword to Mu and pushed the boat into deeper water, then jumped nimbly in and took up the scull. His face was calm, almost rapt, as though some deep need had been fulfilled.
    When they disembarked at the opposite bank, Kuro fastened the boat and looked up with an expectant expression.
    â€œWell? How was it? Success?”
    â€œUnagi and his sons are dead,” Kiku replied. “His father, too.”
    â€œWell done! By what method?”
    â€œGarrotte and swords,” Chika replied. “We set fire to the house.”
    â€œI saw that.” Kuro looked downstream to where the smoke was rising. “I still think poison would have been better.”
    â€œIt depends on whether you want to send a clear message or not,” Kiku replied. “With poison, or with snake or scorpion, there is always an element of uncertainty. This time there will be no doubt. The house of Unagi is finished and the same fate awaits all our competitors unless they submit to us.”
    As they walked back into the town the smell of fish being grilled for the first meal of the day wafted through the streets, mingled with the sweet odors of soy bean paste and curds.
    â€œI’m hungry,” Chika said.
    â€œWe can eat here.” Kiku stopped in front of a low-roofed building whose back room had been extended over the river and turned into an eating place. A large cheerful woman was gutting fish that still quivered with life. She called out a greeting to them as they entered.
    â€œMaster Kikuta! What an honor! Welcome!”
    They sat down on cushions, a low table between them. The breeze from the river smelled of salt and smoke. A young girl, so shy she did not once raise her head, brought sharp green tea and set the bowls before them.
    â€œWhat a shame it is not the season. I feel like eating eel!” Chika remarked, making Kuro chuckle.
    â€œWasn’t that fun?” Kiku said to Mu.
    Fun? It had been shocking and elating. It had demanded a new level of single-mindedness and concentration. For the first time he had combined the tengu’s training and his own talents. It made him feel alive and reckless, aware of his own physicality in a way he had not felt since Shida. But four people he did not know and with whom he had no quarrel were dead.
    â€œI suppose it was,” he admitted. “I haven’t used the sword in a real fight before.”
    â€œYou fight well,” Chika said. “Not that I needed