Getting in to see Lord Kiyama turned out to be even easier than Genma had expected. It looked like Intel had done a masterful job this time, in terms of setting them up with just the right covers: Kiyama wanted those grain prices — had paid for those grain prices — which wouldn’t be made public for at least another week. Hajime and Genma, as the Grass Country Grain Council’s special envoys, were ushered in as honoured guests.

It didn’t take Genma long to spot Tsuda Gyosu, either. The top-ranked guard from Suna was even better looking in person than he had been in the photographs, with a glow to his copper-colored skin that belied the touch of grey at his temples and the beginnings of crows feet at the corners of his eyes. Genma made sure Tsuda spotted him as well, catching the man’s eye with a slight smile and a quick head-nod. He could feel Tsuda’s eyes on him, appraising the cut of his clothes and the body they hid. Dismissing Genma as “not a threat” and at the same time classifying him as worth another look.

Line cast, hook baited.

Genma was fairly certain Tsuda would take the bait.

When Hajime announced that he was suffering from a slight headache from the dust of their travels, Lord Kiyama was nothing but sympathy. They would be shown to their chambers at once, and the lord’s personal physician would be summoned. It took no small amount of persuasion to convince his lordship that all Hajime really needed was a bit of a rest and perhaps some roasted barley tea to sort him out.

Genma accompanied Hajime and Kiyama’s steward Michiba-san to the lavish suite of rooms that had been provided to them. Then he had to convince Michiba all over again that Hajime was really quite fine, just a little travel-worn and dehydrated, and needed only a nap and a bath before dinner.

When they were finally alone, they communicated mostly by sign, lest they be overheard.

Hajime reclined on his bed, sipping cold tea. He raised one eyebrow.

He noticed me, Genma signed.

I know that, returned Hajime impatiently. Did he like what he saw?

Definitely. Genma smirked. You were right about the dark-blue shirt.

I’m always right, Hajime signed back with a self-satisfied grin. It’s my job.

Genma rolled his eyes, but returned the grin. “If you don’t need me here,” he said aloud, “I think I may go have a look at Kiyama-sama’s gardens.”

“Go ahead. If you’d wake me a half-hour before dinner, I’d be most appreciative,” replied Hajime. He flicked signs to Genma as he spoke. I’ll check out the residence and make sure the plans we got were accurate.

Genma nodded. He checked himself in the mirror, letting his hair fall where it may, loose and shiny, and tucking his shirt in a little more closely. He looked like a Grass Country denizen with money and style, especially with the blackened-silver hoop earring in one ear. It dangled a traditional Grass Country good luck charm for travelers that tinkled like a tiny bell every time he shook his head.

He’d have to remember to take it off when they got to the “getting the hell out of there” portion of the mission.

“Rest well,” he said. Don’t get caught.

Hajime flicked his fingers dismissively at Genma. You either.