Coming from the province of Fuchien in China, Ichijoe Saburo’s room had a distinct Chinese flair. The structure of his quarters was basically Japanese, but the decor and flair were distinctly from Chinese culture. Saburo, a nobleman by right, was a hereditary retainer to the Damiyo, or lord of the castle by right. The warrior class looked down upon the nobility as pompus and ineffective. The real power lay in the military of Japan, their heretige, the samurai. However, in the castle, cloistered away from the realities of the world, the nobility were highly repected and honored. The nobility was often soft, even effeminate, however, Saburo did not mind what others thought of him by day, because by night, he shed his foppish garb and took arms in hand as a Shadow Warrior. These, the Iga clan, had also by heretige always protected the Damiyo from harm. Also known as ninja, these warriors were hated and feared as assasins and spies. The Iga of Otsu valley however, were different. They adhered to the strict codes of samurai honor called Bushido. These particular ninja, the Shadow Warriors, or Kage noh Gundan, were the Emperor’s elite guard and answered only to him.
It was such an order that now confronted him. According to intellligence reports, a number of the Damiyo’s generals were conspiring to overthrow his lordship. The head of the castle wanted these men, and wanted them dead. His assignment as the leader of the Kage noh Gundan was to seek out these men and kill them. The idea of assasination disturbed Saburo, but under Bushido, it was his giri, his duty to his lord to obey. With this recently obtained mandate, Saburo gazed across the tatami mats to the black laquered box on the mantle.From this, he drew the messagegiven to him not more than an hour ago. The ink was still damp and the command branded an impression in his mind.
As dusk fell, Saburo swiftly donned a black cowl and hakama, a loose fitting garb that permitted maximum movement. Tucking his swords into this costume, he became the Shadow Warrior, the semi-legendary folk hero thought to be an immortal protector of the people. Actually, the Shadow Warriors were a group of elite royal guard of which Saburo was the leader. He prided himself upon the fact that he had never been beaten in battle.
Swiftly reporting to the Damiyo, the ninja leapt to the base of the palace walls. A sharp clink of steel struck the parapets and the sharp talons of a grappling hook grasped the stones firmly. The rope grew taut and soon the Saburo’s falcon-like eyes could be seen peeking over the wall. A guard, armed with a lance, spied the assasin and attacked. A blade flashed and the hooded entity swiftly ended the guard’s life before the alarm could be sounded. The shadow effortlessly slid down the corridor silent and confident.
A maid bearing tea felt a sharp breeze as she walked through the enclosed hall and tripped. Looking to her feet, she saw a tag of black cloth near her straw sandals. The breeze faded quickly and the maid turned sharply around. The shoji door behind her was closed. The hall was empty.
Frantic with concern the maid snatched the piece of silk and ran to the end of the hall and slid open a panel at the end of the room the past events were just an introduction of what she was afraid was happening. Her master, General Hajime Ichijoe sat quietly in the middle of the tatami with his back to her. Concerned, the maid ran past the painted screen to the warrior and bowed. When he made no response, she touched his shoulder in concern to attract his attention. The body collapsed. A clean, almost surgical, cut stretched from Ichijoe’s abdomen to his neck. Ichijoe slowly glanced at the pattern on the black cloth. It was identical to the crest at the pommel of the knife embedded in his chest.
Ichijoe strained and mumbled, “Iga.” Then his head snapped back and his body went cold. The maid’s scream echoed over the castle.
* * *
Dark and impending, the shadowy figure approached. In his hand rested the Yoshitomo blade, naked and gleaming in the dark. No sound was made as he stealthily crept forward. In the silence, Sachou awoke to the aura of evil seemingly created by his presence. Making no outward movement, she eased her own katana, The Miko, sister sword to the Yoshitomo blade, from its sheath. The semi-legendary ninja still crept forward. Closer and closer, his steps were agonizingly slow. His presence was so close that Sachou could feel the heat of the man’s body. Yoshimitsu Sachou was already famous for her beauty and elegance as a courtesean, but unknown to the personel of the castle, she too was Kage no Gundan, a Shadow Warrior, the elite of the Daimyo’s royal guard. The Yoshitomo blade rose with intensing fury. The smell of fear permeated the room. Still feigning sleep, Sachou tensed. As the menacing blade fell, the Miko hissed from the ground. Sachou slipped under the assasin’s blade and executed a perfect dragon-claw manouver felling the man. A dark stain spread through the groin area of his kimono. As he collapsed, he summoned the last of his strength and flung his blade over the parapets into the night air. There, a group of his comrades retrieved the precious sword. One started for Sachou’s room vowing to avenge his brother, but the leader of the assasins restrained him and the clan retreated. The element of surprise was gone.
Sachou knelt on the tatami, bathed in sweat still poised for a second attack. Minutes passed and she sensed no imminent danger. Slowly she rose. Only then did she notice that she clutched her sword so tight, that her knuckles had whitened. She loosened her hold and whipped the blade downwards to cleanse it of the blood. The petite figure shuddered and knelt to the twitching corpse. Upon removing the grey cowl, Sachou stiffled a scream. Sachou was transfixed in horror, as she saw the disfigured face marred from forehead to chin with a livid purple scar. On his temple, half hidden by hair, was branded five stars of the Amida Tong, the most despised sect of ninja among the warrior caste. Their fanatic devotion to their families and to the warrior god, Hachiman, led them to many vile deeds. Like most ninja sects, they were a family team, their skills passed from father to son and on. However, according to rumor, this particular group, though very skilled and very accomplished, had no code or morals. This made the sect even more hated and feared by the people. However, the most horrible feature of this particular warrior was not his heretige, but the man’s eyes, they were pallid grey almost white, the kind that still bored into you even when containing no life. Sachou started to shake uncontrollably and tears splashed to the floor. Voices penetrated the paper walls and Sachou released her hold on conciousness and collapsed.
When she had wakened, the first thing she could see was a glaring light. Gradually, dim blurs coelesed and as the figures grew to clarity, she saw the familiar faces of her friends looking down on her. Her sensei’s eyes reached down and grasped her heart giving her the sense of security. She shuddered. Knowledgeable fingers probed for injury. The people then set her down on her futons and she drifted into fitful sleep. As she slept, memories from childhood invaded her dreams. Normally in a conscious state she could not remember past three years of age, before the time she was found crying beside a river seventeen years ago. Her sensei, Inochiki Toran, had picked her up then, and adopted her thereby indoctrinating her into the Iga sect. She vaguely remembered blood staining the ground. Now in the nightmare, she was being hurried along, near the river, by a woman of great stature, a Lady of the court. A man was flashing a sword in and out of a wave of soldiers to try to bring them to safety. they seemed to be running, running away. A stolid man who’s face was blurred by the memory, brought down the lone warrior with a single stroke and decapitated the man. The soldier rose the severed head and turned, yelling without sound. As he did, he spied the fleeing courtesan and yelled again to another warrior, who leaped forward. The woman, seeing no way out, pushed the child into the river. As she fell, she turned and saw the Lady’s knife ripping across the man’s face as his sword cleaved into her chest. The man’s horribly lacerated face was familiar. Too familiar! Although the laceration then had been fresh in the dream, there was no doubt as to the scar it produced. It had been her attacker. She screamed and woke with a start, she was alone in the dark drenched in sweat. The smell of death still lingered in her nostrils. The body had been removed and the floor cleaned but the russet stain of blood remained on the mat. For comfort, she reached for her concealed sword. It was gone.
* * *
Sachou froze in disbelief and checked again. It was true, the sword was missing it had been a family heirloom, the item that her mother had strapped to her back while running before the tragedy. Sachou searched frantically around the room. The sword was no where to be found. Sachou sat heavily in despair. She had lost her only link to her heritage. She had lost her father’s sword.
Where was it? Who had it? Such questions coursed through her brain. She had to find it. Yoshimitsu recalled the recent events after she had fallen and she remembered the sword was still in her grasp. The only people around were her maids, her sensei, the students, and the courtesans. Who could it have been? Before she could even begin to sort it out, the lady of the castle entered the chambers and Sachou automatically knelt and bowed.
“Lady Kazumi-sama,” she addressed. The lady of the castle returned the bow and began to speak. Informally she said,
“Sachou, I was so worried and I came as soon as I heard of the assault on your life,(Do have some cha). How did you ever escape? From the body, he seemed like a formidable opponent, even for my son.” She gave a sideways glance, “The courtesans say you weren’t alone.”
“I…I was. Except…except I was rescued.” Sachou quivered under the shrewd glare of the older lady.
“Rescued? Hm. By whom?”
“The…the Shadow Warrior.”
“Ah! That was my favorite childhood story,” being the Damiyo’s wife she had an inkling that Sachou was connected to the Shadow Warriors, although she beleived that they were against the Damiyo rather than working for him. “But a fantasy nonetheless, my child.”
Enraged by the Lady’s patronizing tone, Sachou kept silent.
“Anyway, dear, come with me, there is someone I’d like you to attend to. She recently arrived from Kyoto and being of the willow world, she isn’t used to the harder life we share in the north.”
Although it hadn’t been mentioned, Sachou knew to whom the Lady was refering. The whole castle, down to the lowliest toilet scrubber, knew that the famous geisha, or entertainer Mitsui Atemi, was visiting the desmenes. Mitsui Atemi was a lady of extrordinary beauty and had gained the recognition of being the youngest geisha to recieve the title of Tayu, or First Lady of the Willow World. At twenty-one, she was accomplished in all matters of entertaining and pleasure and was the highest paid courtesean for her services. It was rumored that the Shogun had paid the equivalent to a hundred samurai’s annual incomes for one night of entertainment.
As they mounted the stairs to the geisha’s room, Sachou couldn’t help worrying about her sword, but needed to concentrate on serving the famous lady. After a brief interview, the Tayu haughtily accepted Sachou to tend to her needs and dismissed, or rather ushered, her out to prepare for her performance that night.
* * *
After his assignment, Saburo had slipped out of the midnight black uniform and sipped a cup of sake, or rice wine, heated just to perfect temperature, and began to prepare for his attendance of the Tayu’s performance in the court that night. He was disturbed, however, his victim had been killed before his arrival, and it had been an Iga who had done the job. Saburo wondered who it could be. It wasn’t a clean job so it couldn’t be a master, nor was the cut exactly of the Iga style. No Iga would have left his knife in the chest of his victim. It had been a set-up, only the person who had done it didn’t know that the victim had already been marked for death. No matter what though, the first phase was complete, the first of the conspirators was dead. As he contemplated the murder, the silence became deafening and his hackles rose. Saburo stiffened. A shadow had slipped past his wall. A fraction of a second later, the adjacent wall burst open and a lithe figure, dressed in grey crashed through.
Saburo thought quickly,”The Amida Tong! They followed me, but…but that’s impossible!” He had been the best operative, the perfect assasin, the Amida could never have followed him in a sense, this man had beaten him, he had discovered Saburo’s identity and trailed him unbeknownst to himself.
Saburo leapt to one side as a sword flashed to where he had been standing. In a continuous motion, with the momentum of the jump, he slid his sword from its scabbard. Saburo slashed at his opponent and just barely caught the opponent’s hood with the tip of his blade. The cloth parted and he caught a flash of long black hair. Realizing that this adversary was a girl startled him, and he blundered. A shuriken, Chinese star, flew from her deft fingers at the Iga. Sasuke leapt to dodge but caught a second unpredicted one, in his abdomen. Grasping his sword, Sasuke escaped through a trap door and ran blindly, only to fall into a the garden stream.
When consiousness returned, Sasuke recalled the recent events, he beat himself for making so many mistakes. He had attacked a girl, thereby breaking Bushido, submitted to shock, lost a bout, and fled from the fray instead of fighting to the death. He had tarnished the name of the Iga clan. He would never be able to return to the sect.
He groaned and found himself indoors on scented futons. His wounds had been tended and treated. He looked outdoors and found it to be daylight already. He looked around the somewhat familiar room and found that he was in the women’s quarter. Embarrassed, he pushed aside his covers to leave but found that he had been undressed. He groaned and sank back into the futon.
In a while, the shoji opened and the most beautiful lady he had ever seen walked through the door. Abashed by his appearance, he self-conciously pulled the covers higher.
“Its not as if you haven’t seen me before Saburo,” said Mitsui Atemi coettishly.
“Atemi! You’re the Tayu? It’s been a long time since Kyoto.”
“Indeed it has. You haven’t changed a bit my love.”
“Ah, but you have.” Saburo replied. He was a bit surprised at her affection for him. They had been passionate lovers in Kyoto and would have been married had her father not sell her to the Geisha district to pay off gambling debts. Girls in Japanese culture were not as important as boys as children, because they would not eventually carry on the family name. Atemi had been crushed when she found that Saburo had married into a nobleman’s family and gone to Mishima. You were a mere servant girl when we last met, Ka-chan. But tell me, how did I happen to come here?”
“My maids found you in the garden under my window wounded as you were. They brought you in and we attended to you.” she replied in a musical voice.
“We?” He asked.
“Yes, you were wounded.”
“Oh.”
“If you are worried about it, don’t. It’s not as though
I haven’t tended to you before.”
“Ah, Ka-chan, its been a long time.”
Saburo watched in fascination as her kimono rustled to the ground and she `tended’ to him among the futons.
* * *
As Sachou walked down the corridor to the Daimyo’s reception room, she thought bitterly, “How I hate him, that filthy beggar!” Sachou had closed her mind to the problems of the sword to become a perfect courtesan only to face the present problem of a grimy bent man of about thirty who had romped around her ever since she had entered the kitchen that morning. The beggar seemed foolish and was always begging for food.
“Oh, please! Just another cake? It isn’t so much!” the beggar happily crooned, but at that moment he tripped on the edge of the railing and brought them both tumbling in a heap at the bottom of the stairwell.
With an embarrased huff, Sachou rose and strode into the chamber with the beggar bobbing behind her. There seated in the solemn chamber was the Daimyo with full regalia. Sachou was in shock, for next to Lord, was the Chamberlin, whom everyone knew coveted the castle and the fief. Because of the power struggle, it was rare for the two rivals to agree to meet in the same castle much less a single room. The tension in the room was as taut as a drawn bow string. As Yoshimitsu knelt to serve the cha and sake, she observed the Chamberlin’s swords for the first time. The nobleman’s right hand rested upon a plain laquered scabbard but the pommel bore the tang of the Yoshitomo! Instantly she looked to the shorter stabbing sword. Engraved upon the hilt of the blade, was a white dragon interwoven with a pheonix into the shape of a woman, a female sorceress, it was the Miko. Before Sachou could say or do anything, the Daimyo spoke to the beggar hiding behind the young courtesan.
“Yoshi Sasuke! What a surprise! What are you doing back in Otsu?” inquired the Daimyo. The General then also recognized the beggar as not a commoner but as a famous ronin, one of the greatest swordsmen in Japan. Sachou stared increduously as the crooked man straightened and knelt before the Daimyo. Two, before hidden, swords protruded from the ragged folds of his clothing like two thorns. Percieving the concealed weapons as a threat to the lord, a young but burly man leaped from the side, sword drawn. Kazumi’s son was the best swordsman in the castle but he was too headstrong and impulsive. The sword hissed through the air like an adder at the kneeling man, but as he struck, there was a sharp click and the sword fell on thin air. Bewildered, he rose his hand to his head. His hair rained to his neck, his top knot, the pride of a samurai, was gone. Sasuke had cut it.
He heared the rumbling of laughter behind him and whirled around. Yoshi Sasuke stood there swords once again asleep in their scabbards and holding his sides in mirth. The room laughed and cheered at the incredible manouver and daring to so insult the lord’s son. The son’s, Hiromatsu’s humiliation was colossal. While the Daimyo praised the ronin, the Chamberlin discreetly left the room. Daimyo Yoshiteru instructed Sachou to lead the hero to a guest chamber to be bathed and dressed for dinner. Much subdued, Sachou led Sasuke down the hall to the guest room. When Sachou opened the shoji a voice drawled, “Welcome.”
* * *
From behind a screen, the shadowy figure of the Chamberlin addressed Sasuke.
“Sit down please.” he said firmly. Sasuke looked at Sachou and shrugged. Then he sat down in the middle of the tatami while Sachou stood contemptously at the door.
“Yes you too my dear.” the Chamberlin sneered, but Sachou remained standing. Minutes passed and the silence grew deafening. Sachou’s legs were growing stiff from the tension and inaction. Sasuke, however was stretched out on the floor was snoring peacefully, and the Chaimberlin sat impassively behind his screen. Half an hour later, the shoji reopened and Inochiki Toran, her sensei; Kazumi’s son, Hiromatsu; and three Amida ninja entered. Behind them were the other two conspiring generals. When all but Sachou were seated, the Chamberlin spoke again.
“Welcome, I have gathered you here today because you are the best swordsmen in Japan. Only one of you seem to be missing, the Shadow Warrior himself. No matter, I present to you a task, no, an opportunity from which you will all become incredibly rich.” he paused,”The opportunity is a great one in which you will become famous in history as the man who assasinated the tyrant, Yoshiteru, Damiyo of Otsu.”
* * *
The room sat in shock at the job set before them.
“You will be paid 1,000 koku…”continued the Chamberlin but was vehemently interrupted by the old sensei.
“Traitor! Pig! Weanling of a dog! Do you expect to get away with this?” he cried as his once strong hands drew his sword from its sheath. Once, Toran had been a great swordsman, but now the sword in his frail hands seemed to drag just a bit.
“Get away? We won’t need to. Loyalist, as always, we have prepared for such an uprising as yours, for some of you have already been bought.” a general said. He nodded and turned the chamberlin his back to the old man. The three of the hated ninja, bore a fierce attack upon the sensei. Although aged and frail, the old man still possessed the skill that made him the royal instructor. Feigning a thrust, he cut the air in a vicious arc lopping off a hand. In the same continuous motion he charged the screen. He was blocked by the other two assasins. Then, a sword plunged through the old man’s back protruding through his navel. Inochiki Toran whirled around and met the sweaty trembling face of Hiromatsu.
“You … you would kill your teacher and conspire to slay your own father, the Daimyo?” He raised his sword in anguish but the wound’s pain overtook him and he collapsed. Hiromatsu backed off in horror and fear. The other two ninja mercilously plunged their swords gleefully into the unconcious man. The three murderers turned to face Sachou and Sasuke, but they were already gone.
* * *
During the skirmish, Sachou had surged forward to save her teacher with her traditional courtesan’s dagger. Upon finishing off the handless ninja, she rose to aid her teacher but was pulled away by Sasuke down the corridor to the kitchen. There, Sachou broke away.
“What are you doing?”, she screamed. Surprised, Sasuke fumbled.
“A battle is no place for a girl so I was saving you…”
“Look at this crest! Does it look like I need help?” the Iga crest shone brilliantly off the dagger.
“Iga?…Oh hell!” he muttered under his breath an embarrassed silence followed, and then he said in a foolish manner, “Wanna cake? Just a sec, I’ll go get some.” He looked back at the girl and shuddered before sheepishly running off towards the pantries.
Sachou stood in grief and anger then collapsed, sobbing against the wall.
“Those murderers, they’ll pay for this! Why? Hiromatsu, why? You have killed your sensei, may you rot in hell!” she swore. After an hour of incoherent sobbing and imprecations, she slowly rose and composed herself.
“I must contact Saburo! ” she thought not knowing what had befallen him. She ran to his room and found it a shambles. Afraid for what had happened, Sachou started to panic.
“What am I going to do? Where can I go? ” As a minor member of the Shadow Warriors she had no idea of how to conact the other members that patrolled the outer area and as far as she knew, she, her late sensei, and Saburo had been the only ones actually inside the castle.
“The Daimyo can help me!” she thought with a flash of inspiration. She ran down the corridors, and thought,”All I need is some proof.” She ran back to the site of the killing. Slamming open the shoji, she met with a shock. The room was spotless, no trace of the recent events could be seen, Even the pine picture screen had disappeared. The coup had been well planned. Now there was no evidence to link the others with the crime. Alone in this crisis Sachou vowed to avenge her sensei. She strode to the garden where her hakama and arms were kept.
* * *
Atemi and Saburo were, once again, passionately in love. Forgetting her duties that night Atemi spoke wildly and suggested that they run away and get married. The thought tempted him but his giri forced him to remain and finish his assignment, but the idea tmpted him. So, he agreed but reminded her that she had a performance that night and shoud get ready for it. He hoped to finish his job that night and free himself for the rest of his life. Atemi rose and left the room to prepare for the evening.
“There is nothing left for me here.” thought Sasuke. The only thing left is to redeem my name in the clan, and finish my assignment.” After she had left, he prepared to set off on his mission. Mentally prepared as he was he felt unhampered by his defeat amd disgrace and once again became sure and confident.
His hackles rose again as a shadow flashed by the wall. This time, however, he was prepared. The Amida followed the same pattern and, as before, crashed through the adjacent wall. There the pattern ended. Saburo wielded his sword dextrously and forced the ninja into the garden pond.
Anxious as he was about finishing his mission he did not kill his foe. Saburo ran through the Daimyo’s palace insearch of his quarries. Racing through the fortifications, Saburo quickly dispatched the one of theother generals in his sleep. He then moved down an all-too-familiar corridor to attack the Chamberlin. Upon entering the chamber at the end of the hall, Saburo met with a whole regiment of samurai. The Chamberlin laughed from the rear of the room. Using both swords, Saburo cut through the wall of flesh like a whirlwind. Shurkein filled the air and more samurai fell. The dead littered the room likes so many cans and their remaining comrades fled into the back room with their master. As Saburo burst through to confront them, he met with a contingent of Amida ninja. Ten swords flashed simultaneously, but only one of the assasins stepped forward.
* * *
The opalescent ripples of foam cascaded over the rocks streaming into the clear pool below. The traditional Japanese pines stretched their arms over the clearing to frame the crimson sun above. A nightingale broke into the roar of the waterfall with the shrill notes of a beautiful melody: all nature was in harmony. A girl of radiant beauty that dimmed the soft colors of the courtesan’s kimono, strolled over to the pool of water with what seemed to be a bundle of clothes and rods.
Upon reaching the waters, she took a large square of black silk and folded it into quarters. The girl tied her long flowing hair back and donned the headband. The patterned cloth of the kimono rustled to the ground with a sound resembling the leaves in the trees. Sachou slipped on the black hakama and tied on her sandles over her leather socks. After slipping on the flexible arm guards, she lifted a sword from a box. It was a plain samurai’s sword, but the blade of any katana posseses a sense of perfectness that nothing save love can equal. Drawing the sword, she gazed on the blue steel and relaxed, listening to the bubbling of the brook and the song of the nightingale. She dozed, at last, contented.
The sound of a woodpecker rang out and silenced the nightingale’s robust sounds. A streak of light and the glint of steel invaded the harmony of the garden with a jarring chord. By reflex, Sachou was shaken fron her meditations and her hand instantly rose to the hilt of her sword. she preformed a flying roll to dodge the stilleto flung at her.
With the rustling of leaves came an entire band of warriors. Sachou leaped to the top of the miniature waterfall and glared at the men with the eyes of a falcon. Calculating the odds, Sachou turned to run up the brook towards the castle. However, in her path, was a largesamurai with a sneering grin on his face.
“Come on girlie,” he approached, “I just want some fun.” Sachou looked behind her at the ninja and charged forward sword drawn. Before the burly samurai could react, Sachouside-stepped and swung her sword into the belly of her opponent. With all the strength she could muster, she used the sword and flipped the man onto his back. Sachou withdrew the sword and plunged it into the man’s chest. He died instantly. Try as she could, Sachou could not remove the sword from the man’s body. The footsteps of the pursuers drew near and Yoshimitsu abandoned her weapon.
Sachou ran up the brook with the speed of a gazelle towards the castle. Upon reaching the interior, she quickly lost her pursuers in the endless maze of corridors and halls. Alarms abounded throughout the castle. Sachou then ran to the Daimyo’s chambers to warn him of the up-coming attempt on his life. However, upon nearing the room, she stopped. Guarding the shoji doors were two large samurai wearing the crest of the Chamberlin. Sachou backed away but met with her pursuers. The ninja called out at Sachou. The samurai heard and moved in. Sachou was trapped. A score of swords flashed in the torchlight and the attackers pressed forward. Without her katana, Sachou drew her tanto, or short stabbing sword. Sachou held her tanto face down pointing the hilt straight at the leader in insult. The leader of the warriors lowered his blade to eye-level and waited.
Everyone was still for what seemed to be an eternity. The torchlight first gleamed off the ninja’s sword then rippled along the blade. Sachou parried the thrust, and with the same continuous motion, fell to her knee spinning around to sweep the warrior off his feet with her heel.
As she rose to finish off the disarmed man, the other warriors surged forward. Five swords fell and five swords were blocked by a foot long strip of metal, the thread between life and death. Held in deadlock, it was all Sachou could do to hold off the impending razors of death. The samurai pressed down with all their strength, their blades inching towards her neck.
Yoshi Sasuke strode down the hall as noble and proud as any samurai. Upon turning onto the Daimyo’s corridor, he saw Sachou’s predicament. With a sigh, Sasuke reached into his kimono and withdrew a handful of sticky rice cakes, put a foolish grin on his face, then stumbled down the hall towards the motionless group. As Sachou’s strength started to ebb, she heard a voice.
“Sachou, where are you? You forgot your cakes! Sachou?…” Sasuke yelled. When Sachou heard his voice, she screamed. As if startled, Sasuke fell heavily into the mob dislodging the many swords. As he fell, the cakes flew from his hands each one expertly guided into the upturned faces of the warriors. With a quick glance, he saw that Sachou was unharmed so he turned to the soldiers and started scolding.
“Look at what you made me do! You made me drop the lady’s cakes! What are you going to do about it?” he chided.
The warriors recognized the childish bantering as the ronin they had all seen before in the hall that day. Remembering his skill, they bobbed and bowed and apologized to the stalwart man as they started to back away.
“Stop!” he yelled,”Where do you think you’re going? I’ll teach you a lesson in manners!” Then like a drunken man, he crooned to Sachou.
“This is no place for you …here…you…here” he mumbled as he pushed her into her original destination, the Daimyo’s chambers. Once she was out of sight, he immediately sobered and drew his sword.
In the room, Sachou rose off the floor to kneel before the Daimyo.
“My lord, please excuse my rudeness. I have come to warn you of great danger. There is a plot in which your life is at stake.” she said, “But there is more. Your son is in league with the conspirators, they plan to assasinate you to gain your throne, I beg you caution.”
“My son? I cannot believe this blasphemy! It is not possible! The Chamberlin and I are rivals to be sure, But I think it highly unlikely that he would try to kill me. Other than this game of power we are old friends.”
“Though friends, even players in a game may resort to cheating and deceit to win if the stakes are high enough.” replied Sachou.
At that time, Sasuke had routed his adversaries and dispatched the struggling opposition with ease. With a swift jerk, he cracked through a man’s collar-bone like a brittle twig. The remmamants of his foe fled down the halls to save their lives. Sasuke waited for a moment, hair on end. Then, with a grin, he crouched and smashed through the shoji to the feet of the Daimyo and in front of Sachou acting as though he were mortally wounded. His wailing continued for several minutes then petered away as the last echos of his cries faded against the walls.
“If you are finished Sasuke, there is a much more important matter at hand then trying to gain sympathy from a pretty girl.” the Daimyo scolded, “My son has been accused of being a traitor, I sincerely hope you have proof of this.”
“I have no proof save that my famous blade, the Miko, which you gave to my father, was stolen, and now it sits next to the Yoshitomo at the Chamberlin’s side. Even if this is not enough to attest to the treachery, I think I can safetly say that Sasuke here, can vouch for me. That is, if he has composed himself.” she said as she glared at the sullen ronin. Sasuke looked at Sachou and winked before turning to the Daimyo. Sachou reddened and looked to the ground.
“I can attest to her integrity my lord,” he said,”I too have seen your son’s treachery with my own eyes. It was with his sword that your trusted vassal, Inochiki Toran died.”
The Daimyo mused, “Toran?… Hiromatsu told me he had gone to Kyushu to see his mother. Hmm. Your story corelates with the dissapearance of Inochiki Toran… and it is possible for the Chamberlin to want the mandate for himself, however my son still will recieve the benefit of the doubt. I will bring him here.”
At that moment, the Daimyo’s wife, Lady Kazumi came in to serve cha. Her deliberate movements and obvious scorn for Sachou infuriated the young courtesan. The Empress poured the first cup for the Daimyo, as it was custom to do so. As he raised the tea bowl to drink, Sachou saw a sneering smile of Kazumi’s lips. With a yell of warning, Sachou knocked the tea out of the Daimyo’s hand to the floor.
“What is the meaning of this !” the Daimyo roared.
“Look, your majesty! Your own wife has also tried to kill you!” Sachou returned as the “tea” burned a hole into the tatami mat. Enraged, Kazumi drew her dagger and leapt at the Daimyo.
“My son will have the throne! You shall die !” she screamed as she plunged the knife into the folds of her husband’s kimono, and screamed in joy. However, in her haste, she failed to notice that she had not penetrated the Daimyo’s body but only his outer garment. Sasuke slapped the mistress with the back of his hand to send her sprawling into a corner where she lay whimpering. The Daimyo knelt to comfort the deranged woman but the front shoji crashed open to the lances of the Chamberlin’s men. Sachou and Sasuke whirled around with their weapon’s drawn, flanking the Daimyo. Sachou still bore her tanto as well as Sasuke’s in each hand as she still had not recovered her katana. The Chamberlin’s men parted to let the other general into the Daimyo’s room.
“Nice try Sachou,” he said, ” but you are too late. As you can see, I have already gained the aid of all I need to trample this tyrant into the ground.” Sure enough, interspersed in the ranks of the Chamberlin’s men were the emblems of the Daimyo. The Daimyo drew himself to his full height and spoke.
“Those who have decided to rebel against me, I address you. It is your choice to make the decision of what is right and wrong, but look to your new master, his record is one of greed and power ever since he was appointed. It is true that our country is in turmoil and poverty. But why? Is it because of my rule? No, rather that this dilemma had started when the General challenged my rule and set numerous attempts at attaining my power. You are tool of his latest attempt. Don’t let him sway you. The choice is yours.”
Within the ranks of soldiers, the Daimyo’s men shifted nervously. A wave of murmurs surged through the mob, their heads twisting this way and that glancing at their friends and comrades to see what they would do. The general sensed the decision and the forthcoming plant of anarchy and tried to rally his men around him. A nervous soldier broke from the crowd to free himself from the command of the general, but another samurai stepped edgewise and decapitated the man. At that point the crowd lost all restraint and the carnage began.
* * *
Back in the Chamberlin’s room, Saburo confonted the ninja before him. Obviously the leader, it was the same girl he had met before. Saburo dressed in the traditional Iga black and she in the Amida grey. The two leveled their swords and leapt. The initial clash was not seen by the spectators, for it had been in the eyes. It was known in advance who would lose. The Amida’s eyes had a definite flame of hatred while Saburo’s were dulled with the knowledge that this ninja had beaten him before. Saburo, realizing this, had decided to attack. His opponent parried and counter-attacked. The cut went under his sword and caught below his arm. As the Amida readied for the coup de grace, Saburo delivered his final weapon.
“Atemi! Why do you seek to kill me?” he demanded.
Atemi visably shaken, replied, “Why shouldn’t I? You destroyed a part of my life!”
“Ka-chan, I had no choice, it is no reason for murder, you became a geisha, I had to marry for my family, I never stopped loving you.”
“And I have never stopped loving you either.” Atemi replied with tears in her eyes.” But you killed my father!”
Saburo was stunned, “Your father?”
Atemi drew herself to her full height and proclaimed, “I am Hajime Atemi, daughter of Hajime Ichijoe.”
“As ninja you must understand that it was my duty, not my choice to kill him, although I had no idea that he was your father. It is true that I was assigned to kill him, but your father was not killed by me, he was already dying when I found him.I wondered who could have done it, and the only person is the Chamberlin. He is only one other person in this room who has been called Iga. Although he was thrown out of the clan for his misconduct.”
“I…I didn’t know.”
Atemi spun around and faced the Chamberlin with a gleam in her eyes. “You knew he was my father, you faked an Iga assasination because you knew that was the only way you could hire me. You knew that I am no Amida but needed my help. You bastard!”
She ran at the Chamberlin with her sword drawn heedless of the other warriors. Saburo watched in horror as her former teammates plunged their swords into her with their tips protruding from her back. Saburo ran to her as she collapsed in his arms.
She winced and softy mumbled,” I realize the pain I have caused you and I hope you will forgive me as I forgive you.. I…I love you.” her eyes closed and her body grew limp. In silent torture Saburo watched as his life’s dream escaped from him then rose and turned. Saburo once again had the eyes of a falcon burning with hatred.
Running amok with tears in his eyes, Saburo took all six Amida warriors at once. In an upstroke, he split the chest of the first one wide open. Then using the momentum of the initial slash, Saburo whipped his sword in a vicious arc separating a head from a body. Then, parrying all attacks, Saburo flung a Chinese star into the head of the new Amida leader. The last three ninja fled down the hall only to be brought down by arrows shot in rapid succession.
Slowly, Saburo walked towards the Chamberlin, but the man ran and escaped through the trapdoor. Saburo followed.
* * *
“It’s a beautiful day today isn’t it Sachou?” yelled Sasuke grinning to her as he plunged his sword into the belly of a soldier. Sachou, too occupied with her own adversaries, to find a witty remark, made no answer. Getting no reply, Sasuke hummed to himself as he brought down warrior after warrior. While Sasuke controlled the main bulk of the soldiers, Sachou was pitted against Hiromatsu. In rage, Hiromatsu struck at Sachou, who raised both knives in defense.
“Why can’t you understand?” yelled Sachou,”The General has no intention of giving you the throne! You are his pawn! Don’t let him…”
Hiromatsu covered his ears and yelled back,”No! You lie!” He then set to Sachou with a furious onslaught wounding her. However, as he thrusted forward to finish her off, he was pushed back by the Saburo. He had chased the Chamberlin to this room, seen Sachou’s predicament and sallied to assist. Hiromatsu ran forward, sword parallel to the ground. Saburo, also charged. There was a glint of light and the clash of steel. Then, the two were standing backs to each other, both poised for another attack. There was a moment of stillness and Hiromatsu collapsed, split from navel to chin. As his entrails spilled to the ground, his mother, the Lady Kazumi screamed and surged from her corner to hug the lifeless corpse of her son to her body. The Daimyo placed his hand on his wife’s shoulder and together they mourned. Saburo had defeated Hiromatsu, But had not come out unscathed, his hand clutched his arm in pain as he went to tend to Sachou. Sachou’s side was bleeding heavily but she waved him away and went to help Sasuke defend the Daimyo. With a loyal band of the lord’s men, they drove the enemy back. Saburo then, using his famous two sword style, manouvered the men out of the chamber. As the room cleared, the Chamberlin, who had been standing against the wall, drew the Yoshitomo, and lunged at the Daimyo. Sasuke had seen the move and rolled in middair to block the swing inches away from the Daimyo’s neck. He had blocked the Yoshitomo, but his sword was by far the inferior. Locked together, Sasuke held the Yoshitomo from the Damiyo. As the Daimyo and the Lady Kazumi moved away, the Yoshitomo’s perfect edge began to cleave through the strip of pig iron beneath it.
“You cannot win Sasuke, enforced with opium, my strength is at three-fold and my sword, which I have killed to gain, will now kill for me. They forsake me, but I’ll show them, I AM Iga.” hissed the deranged man.
Sasuke did not reply for he saw that what the Chamberlin had said was true. His sword slowly gave way to the weight of the man. Sachou studied the intense deadlock and looked for an opening. Seeing her chance, Sachou ran and leapt between the pair. As she did, she grasped the hilt of theMiko, her father’s sword, which was still tucked in the sash of the Chamberlin. The blade slid smoothly from its scabbard and with the same motion, Sachou twisted and slit open the belly of the Chamberlin. At that moment, Sasuke’s blade
snapped.
* * *
To the Daimyo, all this seemed to happen in an instant. Sasuke seemed to have been killed, and the Chamberlin had buckled under the weight of the blow. But when the confusion had cleared, Sachou lay prostrate with the blood covered Miko. Sasuke was on his back dazed. His kimono was split from neck to crotch, but he was unharmed. The General rolled on the ground, his hands wildly grasping at his crimson abdomen.
With wild eyes he turned to Sachou and screamed, “How can you kill your father?!”
Sachou threw herself around in horror. “Wha…No! You lie! I’m no child of a pig!”
The Chamberlin belly strained and hissed, “To be sure, I am not your true father, but your mother was my wife! She was unfaithful and ran of with your real father, Saburo’s father. Whom I had killed. I wanted revenge on Saburo too, it wasn’t the way I planned, but it worked out better than killing him. They disgraced me! I had to kill them. But the other Iga wouldn’t understand. They and their stupid honor system condemned me and threw me out! I wanted to make them pay, . . . make them pay.” It took moments to let what he had said sink in. The image of the dream coursed through Sachou’s brain in perfect clarity. There the man who had ordered the courtesan’s death was the Chamberlin! And Saburo her brother? No wonder he had taken care of her so well!
“But you killed my father and mother! If my mother was your wife, then how could you order her to die?” blurted Sachou, in grief. Again her knuckles whitened on the hilt of her sword.
“You call yourself Iga, you should know that she had an affair, she dishonored me, she had to die!” thundered the dying man.
“Then this…is your sword? ” her eyes lowered to the Miko.
“No, its your father’s I stole the Yoshitomo from Saburo, I wanted you to die by your own father’s sword. The Amida have done my bidding as no Iga would.” snarled the Chamberlin.
“Finish him!” shrilled the Daimyo, but his wife touched his hand motioned towards the distraught girl, and the Daimyo understood. The Chamberlin could do nothing anyway.
“What did you do to my brother? If he is hurt, I’ll…”
But the Chamberlin had already collapsed face down on the tatami mat. Still in a kneeling position, he looked old and frail. Not unlike Inochiki Toran. Despite her anger, Sachou felt a wave of pity sweep through her. Sasuke came to her side and helped her up.
“C’mon Sachou,” he said as he carried her up, “Let’s go look for your brother.
Sachou stared up into his eyes and smiled. “Thank you Sasuke, for everything.” And as she rested her head on his shoulder she looked down, then closed her eyes, smiled and said, “My he really split your kimono didn’t he?”
Sasuke’s face turned bright red.
* * *
The castle was searched top to bottom but no trace of Saburo could be found. Saburo had snuck out of the palace and went east towards the sea. He gazed at the full moon and saw her face and in the wind, he heard her voice. Saburo could live on but he could never forget Mitsui Atemi-noh-Hajime , the ninja. Saburo knelt down upon his steel thorn and he and Atemi were united once more. For
eternity.
Bushido was complete.
*finis*