A Time Traveller's Guide To Feudal Japan

When they were finally able to sit down in his office, it was easy to see where the extra money had gone. The snakewood desk that Morojo sat behind was varnished to the shine of a mirror. Each desk leg had a sock of gold, fashioned with the tongues of serpents or perhaps the tongues of dragons. A quill and unfoiled scroll sat upon it, appearing to have been left in a hurry.

"I was not aware you could read," Gengyo commented, lowering himself into the seat opposite. Feathered cushions, it was easy to tell. Nothing could match that comfort.

"My family business would not have lasted long had I not learned the craft. The number of times my logs have saved my skin is past counting." The shipwright replied more comfortably, sliding the doc.u.ment across to him. "I’ve employed that practise here as well. A record of all the taxes we’ve received."

Gengyo glanced at it but briefly. It was neatly ledgered in a drawn up table of values. Each bit of information was easily discernible. It was well done, but he held no immediate interest in it. "You spoke before of the coin you’d boxed up... I’d see it, if you have it on hand."

He nodded and stepped up out of his chair. "By all means."

As he drifted across the room, the young Lord prepared to follow him, expecting that they’d be reentering the vaults deep below the castle. It would be something of a journey, for Morojo’s office existed as an island of its own, right in the centre of the marketplace. He was close to everything that was worth being close to.

But contrary to what he had expected, Morojo stooped low by a leg of one of the tables. He ran his fingers along one of the golden socks and grasped it. When he slid upwards, the upper half of the sock moved with him, revealing a tiny chamber in the wood, the perfect size for a small key.

"Clever." Gengyo noted approvingly. "Do we have Takeshi to thank for that?"

"Aye, it was the smith that came up with it," he admitted peeling the key out from its hole. "It didn’t seem wise to keep it in my pocket. I’m too easy a target. That amount of gold is enough to turn a peasant to a Daimyo overnight."

"It must have been tempting."

"Heh, and what would I do with an army? You’re the military genius, not I. You don’t need to keep testing me, Miura. I’m not fool enough to attempt to betray you. There would be no shield in the world that could save me if I did."

"As long as you understand. The landscape is complicated enough already. Another blade in the darkness would be crushing, especially if I had armed that man myself."

Instead of replying, Morojo moved over to a panel of the paper wall. It looked exactly the same as the others. Pure white and freshly done, framed in polished wood. But when a certain amount of force was applied, it functioned just like the sliding door they had entered by, and revealed a set of stone steps leading down into the earth.

Seeing the look Gengyo gave him, he felt the need to defend himself. "I know, it’s basic, but it wasn’t constructed by my hand. It’s enough to keep the average man from finding it."

The young Lord joined him at the doorway, looking down into the darkness. "I’m sure you’ll find the time for something a little more clever."

"Indeed." He pulled out one of the drawers of his desk and retrieved a candlestick. He quickly lit it, before rejoining his master by the steps. With the flickering of the flame, light was cast on the true defence mechanism that he had placed his faith in. A door of solid iron, standing intimidatingly, not a single obvious weakness.

"Now that was definitely Takeshi’s doing," Morojo announced before the question could even be posed. With his small key, he bent down toward the keyhole right at the bottom of the door. Compared to the frame of the door, his thin key looked measly, like it would snap the instant he inserted it. But with barely any resistance at all it turned. There was an audible click, and with a slight tug, the heavy iron door swung open smoothly. "Good luck to the man that tries to raid this vault without a key."

Luck would certainly be useful. Now that it was open, they could tell just how thick it was. Ten centimetres of folded iron completely surrounded by solid stone. If a man ever wanted to get inside, he’d have to bring his pick and go mining. It was certainly not something that could be done quickly.

"There you go, the main event." He led Gengyo inside, lighting two worn candles by the wall, pointing to three solid wood chests that sat in the centre of the room.

"...Is this a bluff?" By the size of the chests, it seemed impossible that more than one could be filled. They were as big as a fat piglet, and all of them the same. If each were to be overflowing with coin, then Gengyo could not even imagine how much there was in total. A hundred thousand? Two hundred?

Morojo shook his head and with a self-satisfied smile he flipped the lids. Gold and silver. Rivers of it. Not a single piece of measly copper in sight. They formed lakes, and threatened to spill out over the side. They caught the flickering candlelight and glimmered so prettily.

"How...?" Gengyo breathed. "This can’t all be from taxes, can it?" He ran his finger through the chest, plunging his hand right to the bottom. They were just as deep as they looked. The metal was pleasantly cold on his skin. Such wealth. It was unfathomable. His shipwright held the answers, and he would not allow him out of this coin chamber until he revealed them.