The streets were filled with fleeing people and soldiers. The Yukai City samurai were disorganized, but it was clear they were banding together either for an assault or defense. How long that would take, the failed mage couldn’t say. Hours maybe.

Too long. He had to go in himself and find the boy. And if Sakura was there, her too. They might have been killed or taken captive. He doubted any of them got out of the palace. How could they? The enemy would have attempted to prevent anyone fleeing. Clearly they wanted to capture Emperor Kurosawa and the rest of the royal family to make sure the line of succession was stopped. Allowing them to sneak out would be unacceptable.

This hadn’t been a conventional attack, but a large scale assassination attempt, or at the very least, a capturing of the royal family. It was distasteful to execute royalty in many circumstances. Indefinite exile or comfortable imprisonment was often the preferred method of removal if swearing loyalty as a new daimyō wasn’t in question.

Lawrence surveyed the streets, moving quickly and as stealthily as possible. Though he wasn’t best suited for stealth, he wasn’t bad at it. He could handle a patrol, but he didn’t want to draw warriors to him.

A lot of the night sky was filled with roiling smoke. That smoke was limned in the bright moonlight, but as clouds occasionally swept over the sky, the streets took on an eerie, dark cast, orange and red where the fires burned in and around the palace, only to be swept away by the bright night sky and then covered again.

A group of ten samurai, nearly silent, were trotting down the street. They were evidentially patrolling the palace.

Lawrence avoided them by butting his back up against a wall and hiding behind a small potted tree a few feet taller than he was.

The group was barely visible in their black armor as they turned the corner, skirting the outer wall of the imperial palace.

I won’t be getting in through the gate, he thought, watching a dozen guards actively positioned to make sure no one entered or left without express say so.

The failed mage skirted the wall to avoid being seen by the sentries atop the wall and dashed down the street two rows back from the palace so as not to be seen or caught by the patrols. There had to be a sally gate somewhere.

Perhaps I can slip in quietly if the door isn’t being guarded.

He could also attempt infiltration by killing a straggling guard and donning the samurai’s armor. But if he was spoken to, he would be made immediately. He didn’t speak the language of the land like a native, and his race would give him away immediately. There were no western samurai. Not that Lawrence knew of, or ever heard of. He continued down the street, glancing at the palace by peeking into the crossroads leading in its direction.

All the running was tiring work, but he felt good. The energy he had drawn from the sentō house fires was keeping him energized.

Something moved and made a loud noise. Lawrence jumped, ready to send a fiery ball of flames at his attacker, but it was only a young man, his arms full. He stumbled and ran.

The streets were mostly quiet back here, but there were still people in the area. If they were close by, they were hiding in their homes, their shutters closed, or they were currently making their way in the opposite direction of the palace.

Breaking a sweat now, he continued searching for an open gate. The failed mage didn’t know how the attackers got in, but surely they would begin moving in more men and defenses to secure the palace. That would be his entry point.

But he found no open gate.

Frustrated, he entered a house in search for rope and found a group of women who screamed in horror upon seeing him.

“Shh!”

They scrabbled, throwing things, grabbing knives to defend themselves. Lawrence realized most of them were quite young. Perhaps an older sister and her younger siblings.

“I said be silent,” he snapped, conjuring a ball of fire in his hand.

Their jaws went slack as they stared at him in horror, evidentially ready to be charred to death.

Lawrence pulled the flame back until it went out. “I’m not going to hurt you. I only want to get into the palace.”

The little ones were sniffling at their sister’s skirts. Or perhaps she was their mother?

“What are you doing in our house?”

“I’m looking for some rope.” She stared at him and his frustration grew. He slapped his hands together and she jumped. “Hey!”

“We don’t have rope here!”

He looked about, nearly ready to leave. He could search for rope all night and not find any. “Linens will do.” He felt half a fool saying it.

For the next ten minutes Lawrence waited quietly as the older girl went to fetch him every single bed linen in the house.

“Where are you parents?” he asked the children.

“Away.”

“Where?’

“They went to Kuma.”

He nodded.

“Stop talking to my sisters.” She shoved a big ball of linens at his feet. “There’s what you want. Now please leave.”

They were afraid of him, even though he meant them no harm. He felt bad for not leaving, but he said, “I need to tie them together.”

She helped him, though he double checked every single knot that wasn’t his. He didn’t want to fall and break his back while scaling the wall like a fool.

“Is there anything else I can use? Something for a grapple?”

“Taka, what’s a grapple?

“Shh!”

“I want to know.”

“I said be quiet.”

“It’s a hook for climbing,” Lawrence said.

“Oh! I know!” one of the girls said excitedly. Her mouth was covered immediately with Taka’s hand.

“Shh!”

The little girl nodded through her sister’s hand. When she was free to speak, she said, “My grandfather has a small boat anchor in the shed.”

Lawrence smiled. “Perfect.”

It might be hard to throw over the height of the wall, but it would do. The mercenary would find a way, and if he couldn’t, then he had no business being here.

“Thank you,” he said. And before leaving he spoke to the older sister. “I would take your sisters and leave. Get as far away from the palace as possible.”

“We’re waiting for our parents,” she said defensively.

“I know,” Lawrence said. “But you don’t know what will happen. You should leave. It’s safer.”

She looked at him stubbornly. He held her gaze, and finally she nodded. “We’ll leave.”

He nodded, fished four silvers out of his purse and put it in her hands. “That will buy you some food and passage if you need it, and entry into another city if they insist on being pig-headed about an entry toll.”

She cocked her head back, her eyes wide. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me,” he said. “Just go.”