The Whipping Boy || Kokuzan/Michizan Vers. ||

Of assorted events in which the plot thickens thicker.

As soon as the wheels rattled on cobbled streets, Michikatsu felt an immense sense of relief. This was his turf, the city, and he knew more places to hide than a rat.

Approaching the waterside fairgrounds, he saw prisoners in chains being marched aboard a convict ship. It lay in sharp contrast to the festive stalls and banners of the fair.

Akaza eased the coach between a seller of live fowl and a juggler tossing colored balls into the bright noonday air.

"Thanks for the ride, hot-potato man," said Nakime. "Come along, Petunia. Let's fetch us a crowd and earn a copper or two."

Michikatsu collected his battered birdcage.

"Don't rush off, boy," said Akaza, hauling out a canvas load of firewood from under the seat. "Haven't I been listening to your stomach rumbling for the last hour? Do me the kindness of filling the kettle at the pump. Soon as the potatoes are boiled up, we'll feast, eh?"

Anxious as he was to be on his way, Michikatsu hesitated. He was powerful hungry.

Then Akaza laid a coin in his hand. "And while you're at it, stop off at the cow man, the both of you, and get yourselves a couple of mugs to drink."

Michikatsu picked up the handle of the kettle. But almost at once Muzan snatched it out of his hands. "I'll do that."

"You?" Michikatsu replied. "It's servant's work."

"Then who'd take me for a prince, toting water?" He smiled. He laughed. "I've never been allowed to carry anything! Not in my entire life."

Michikatu led the way. He'd never regared fetching and carrying as a privilege. But the sound of merriment lingered in his head. Muzan's laugh sung in his head, he looked down at the ground, blushing faintly. Hardly noticeable. He'd never before heard Muzan laugh.

They dodged acrobats and a stilt walker and a harp player. Through the hubbub came a great voice.

"Michi! Rat-catching Michi!"
Turning, Michikatsu spied a tall boy wearing a checked cap. It was Gyutaro tending a sawdust pit squared off by a board fence--- a dog-and-rat pit. Beside him stood a stack of rat-filled cages and a black terrier leashed to a post.

"Wow, it is you, Michikatsu!" said Gyutaro. "Reckon you call the king by his first name these days."

"Hello, Gyutaro. You've given up mudlarking?"

"I've come up in the world, haven't I? Same as you, Michikatsu. How do you like my dog? Best rat-fighter you ever saw."

With a practiced eye, Michikatsu surveyed the cages. "But those rats look tame enough to eat off your hand."

"Best I could afford. Catch me some castle rats and I'll make a special feature. The king's own rats!"

"Not my line of work in the castle, Gyutaro."

"It's not true you're a whipping boy is it?"

Michikatsu felt a flush of embarrassment and dodged the question. "I've learned to read and write."

"You have?"

"The bottom truth. I've read many a book from beginning to end."