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deputy?”
    The man coughed. “ There is a – a monetary fief with the position, yes.”
    “ Meaning they pay you…?”
    “One koku a year.”
    One koku : one gold coin. In theory, a daily food intake of a bowl of rice porridge for breakfast, lunch and dinner with one cup of tea per meal would cost one copper piece per day. To do this for a month would cost one silver piece, and to live so for a year would be a single gold koku. Not that anyone would mange to live out the year: they would have gone stark raving, axe-wielding mad long before then out of sheer boredom with the cuisine. Sura pondered all of this and whistled. Kuno shot her a dire glance.
    “What?”
    “Nothing! Nothing at all!” Sura jingled the string of copper coins she had ‘liberated’ from the swamp hag’s lair. “Forty coppers here! Hey, if you’re wandering about doing the deputy thing, you might as well wander with us. A little coin, the open road – a universe filled with possibilities!”
    The samurai tried to cut off the conversation. Sura walked happily along in her handsome robes with her spear, short sword and pack, looking as much tomboy as priestess. Her red hair and waving tail flashed. She shared out some rice balls given to her by the villagers, handing the largest one to Tonbo.
    “ Ooooh! There’s beans inside! Hey, that’s good!” She ate with all the grace of a tiger, and spoke to Kuno with her mouth full. “Oooh – did you try the sakē yet? It’s the sweet kind – excellent!”
    Kuno ground his teeth. He looked at the fox woman in annoyance.
“Must you revel in materiality? A priestess should exude more dignity.”
    The fox planted a hand against her heart in protest. “I have dignity! Hey Tonbo – back me on this! Do I have dignity?”
    Tonbo gave a grunt, which spoke great, deep volumes on a number of subjects. Sura inevitably took it to mean absolute agreement.
    “ There – see?”
    Kuno could only acquiesce. He kept his eyes upon the road ahead.
    “I stand corrected.”
    Sura walked along at Kuno’s side, thoroughly enjoying baiting him. She carried her spear across both shoulders, hanging her arms over the haft.
    “A fox will tell you that we live in a universe of objects and phenomena! We receive it through our senses. Why turn your back on the way that we commune with the world?” She drew in a great, deep breath, savouring the scent of wet earth and growing grass. “So anyway. Kuno! What’s this place you have us going to again?”
    Kuno tried to walk in the most determined possible fashion. “ There is no ‘we’! We all just happen to be walking in the same direction.”
    “Well we’ll come with you and make sure you’re looked after.” The fox had not a care in the world. “ So really – what’s this town called?”
“The town is Ayamejo – the seat of Imperial Magistrate Masura.” Kuno straightened his back. “When I win the Ayamejo sword tournament, the magistrate will see my prowess. Then I can expect a better commission than wandering about as a policeman without portfolio.”
Sura stuck out her bottom lip and nodded. “ Cool! And if the other contestants beat you into mulch?”
    “ What’s mulch?” Kuno gathered up his dignity, letting his warrior spirit soar. “ And I shall win, because I am spiritually and bodily prepared. Although you are a kitsune , it cannot have escaped your notice that I am a paragon of the samurai arts.”
    Sura’s green eyes flashed above her grin. “ Ooooh! A paragon!” She puffed out her quite considerable chest. “Well paragons shouldn’t mope. Lets sing!
     
    “My hole”, said she, “Is quite petite!
    And we’ll have lots of fun!
    If I can just persuade you, sir
    To come and take the plunge…!”
 
    All manner of passers by could hear her. Kuno primly glowered at the fox.
    “Not that badger song! Even if you are a creature of loose morals, there is no need to advertise it.”
    “I do not have loose morals! I merely have a zest for