Kill the Shogun

CHAPTER 21

Is this your daughter?” Momoko was fussing over Kiku-chan, but clearly curious about the relationship between the girl and Kaze.

“She is my responsibility,” Kaze said. “For a while, I would like her to be your responsibility.”

“Me?”

“Yes. Goro and Hanzo have good hearts, and they’ll help. I have to do something, and I want to make sure Kiku-chan will be taken care of if I don’t succeed. You are the person I can trust with that responsibility, especially if I don’t come back.”

“What are you talking about? Are you going to do something dangerous?”

Kaze smiled. “It can’t be more dangerous than five ninja trying to kill me, yet here I stand, still alive.”

“It is dangerous.”

“Life is dangerous. If I don’t do this, then it will continue to be more dangerous than it needs to be.” Kaze took the remaining gold he had received from Nobu out of his sleeve, gold he had withheld from Jitotenno to provoke an incident that would get attention. He handed the coins to Momoko.

“Here,” he said, “take this money and do two things. First, get Kiku-chan some different clothes: clothes suitable for a child of her age, so she doesn’t look like she’s going to a bawdy house. Next, rent me a horse.”

“A horse?”

“Yes. Make sure I can get it at any hour of the day or night, and make sure it’s at a stable on the west side of Edo Castle.”

Momoko looked at the gold coins. “This is more than it will take to do that. What do you want me to do with the rest?”

Kaze looked at her strangely, and Momoko realized that a samurai rarely concerned himself with money. He let his wife do that. By giving her his money, Kaze was extending a kind of intimacy to her. She blushed.

“Keep the money,” he said patiently. “If I don’t come back, you will need the money for Kiku-chan. If I do come back, you can use the money to help the theater and Goro and Hanzo. Just don’t tell them you have it, and don’t tell them who gave it to you. The last time I gave them money, they were banging their heads on the ground with bows of gratitude. It was disgusting. I don’t want to see that again.”

“But Goro and Hanzo won’t need the money. The theater is doing better, thanks to you.”

“Oh?”

“Yes. The actors are using the wild makeup, like you did, and the people love it. We can’t show passion on the stage, but we can talk about it, and women seem to like that even better than showing it. I’ve also had the idea that we should include sword fights in our plays, after seeing you with the ninja. I’m sure that will be popular, too! Here. Take the money back. You’ll need it.”

Kaze frowned. Momoko knew she was spoiling the moment, and she cursed her inability to really understand how the samurai mind worked. Talking to a samurai like Matsuyama-san about money was very bad manners, especially after he had entrusted you with handling his money for him.

“Sumimasen. I’m sorry,” she said, with a deep bow. “I’ll get the clothes and arrange for the horse.”

Kaze sat in the valley where two roofs came together, hidden from the ground but still able to watch the temple. He had been watching for a day and a night and a second day, only leaving briefly to answer calls of nature or to take a drink from the communal well, late at night when he wouldn’t be seen. He had a small store of toasted rice cakes he brought with him, the kind of rations he might have on a hard military campaign.

As in a military campaign, Kaze didn’t consider waiting as wasted time. Every warrior knew how to act, but the good ones also knew how to wait. Timing in a campaign, battle, or fight was crucial. Action and waiting were a natural balance, like breathing in and breathing out. Kaze knew his waiting and watching was just the prelude to action. Of course, Kaze also knew that his waiting might be in vain. Thus it was with battle plans, where sometimes waiting came to nothing because an expected situation didn’t develop.

During the first day, he saw the man he was waiting for. He was staying in the temple because of Edo’s housing shortage. Kaze was able to identify him by the crest on his helmet, which Nobu had described to him. He seemed to be going about his normal duties, so Kaze had no interest in him then.

In the depth of the second night, in the early morning, at the hour of the Tiger, Kaze did have an interest in the man. His waiting paid off. He saw the man leaving the temple with two companions. They were on horseback, and what interested Kaze was that he carried a musket and he was not wearing his insignia. He and his companions were dressed as charcoal burners.

They must be going into the woods, Kaze thought, where their costumes would allow them to blend in. On the day of the attempted assassination, Kaze was sure he had worn his uniform. With so many soldiers rushing about after the shot was fired, another soldier was almost invisible in the crowd, even one carrying a musket. That’s also why the yagura watchman didn’t cry out when an armed man entered his watch platform. It would not be unusual for a uniformed officer to want to get a good observation perch. It’s also why no one noticed him leaving the scene of the assassination attempt.

Kaze watched what direction they took leaving Edo, and quickly got off the roof and rushed to the stable where his horse was waiting.

Following people undetected on horseback was harder than following them on foot, especially since Kaze didn’t want them to get too far ahead of him. But the darkness helped as they crossed the farms and villages that surrounded Edo, and by the time the dawn arrived, they were off the roads and into the woods to the northwest of Edo, where the trees could screen Kaze.

The trio proceeded into the forest, to a point where the thick groves of trees were broken up by meadows. Then they stopped, with two of them moving forward on foot while the third held the horses.

Kaze tied his own horse and circled around the man holding the horses. Moving with the silence of an experienced hunter, he crept up to the two men, who seemed to be sitting behind a large rock, waiting. Kaze sat and waited, too.

This is my favorite time, Honda.” Ieyasu was anxious to get to the hunt. Behind him, several horses with packs that supported perches for birds trailed, led by the bird’s trainers. They were followed by a half-dozen mounted bodyguards.

The hawking party broke out of the forest and into a meadow. It was one of Ieyasu’s favorite hawking sites, and he ordered the birds forward, so he could decide which one he wanted to fly first.

Ieyasu looked up at the blue sky. “It’s a perfect day for the birds,” he remarked.

“It won’t be a perfect day for the prey,” Honda grumped. “Today they’ll die.”

“To live is to die,” Ieyasu said, quoting a proverb. “Besides, when you have to die, it’s probably best to die on a day such as this one. When it is my time to go to the void, I wish it would be on a day just like today.”

Kaze watched one of the men pop his head up over the top of the rock, and then say something to the one with the musket. The man with the gun took out his flint and steel, and set the cord on his musket burning. He was getting ready to shoot. Kaze looked in the meadow in front of the rock and saw a party out hawk hunting. He realized the two men on horseback were Ieyasu and Honda.

The man with the musket stood and started taking aim. He was using the most modern gun and technology available. Kaze chose a more ancient weapon. More ancient even than his sword. He picked up a fist-sized rock and threw it with all his strength.

The rock hit Niiya in the side of the head just as he pressed the trigger of his musket. The burning cord hit the touch hole, and the musket fired with a loud crack that shattered the silence of the meadow. Niiya collapsed, his musket ball flying harmlessly into the air.

Niiya’s companion drew his sword and turned to face Kaze, just as the ronin ran from his hiding place to the rock. The man was a good swordsman but not an excellent one, and the duel was over in an instant, the man falling dead to the ground from a cut across his neck and shoulders as Kaze rushed past him.

Kaze wanted Niiya alive, and he knelt down next to the prone man, loosening the man’s jacket sash and using it to tie up Niiya’s hands. Across the meadow, Kaze could see Honda and Ieyasu’s bodyguards springing into action, riding at full tilt toward the sound of the shot and the rock. Honda joined them, the old warrior acting instinctively to defend his Lord. It was over a hundred paces to the rock, so Kaze was able to quickly tie Niiya’s hands as the samurai charged forward.

Just as Kaze was completing the knot securing Niiya, he sensed a presence behind him. Grabbing his sword, which he had laid on the ground next to him, Kaze spun halfway around while still kneeling, just in time to block a cut to his head by the man who had been holding the horses. He had come to investigate when his two companions didn’t come to the horses to make their escape right after the shot was fired.

At a disadvantage because he was still in a kneeling position, Kaze blocked a second cut without having an opportunity to go on the offensive. The man was smart enough not to let up, and he drew back for a third cut before Kaze could regain his feet. A large shadow suddenly blocked out the sun, and Kaze realized that a horse was jumping over the rock, sailing over Kaze and Niiya. The body of the horse blocked Kaze’s view of the blow, but as the horse hit the ground, Kaze was able to see the results. The man’s head was flying through the air, cleanly taken by the horseman while still in the midst of the jump. As other horses drew up on either side of the rock, Kaze glanced at the first horseman and saw it was Honda. Honda’s eyes burned with excitement, and the call to arms had stripped away years from the old warrior’s face.

Honda pulled his horse around and trotted back to Kaze.

“What is the meaning of this?” he demanded.

“This is the assassin of Lord Nakamura,” Kaze said, pointing to the prone Niiya, who was just beginning to regain his senses.

Honda peered at the bound figure and said, “Nonsense! That’s Captain Niiya. He’s in Lord Yoshida’s service. I know him. It’s impossible that he’s the assassin.” He pointed at Kaze. “Drop your sword!”

Kaze shook his head. “I’m sorry, but I don’t want to do that until I have convinced you that this is the assassin.”

Niiya, who was still shaky, had recovered enough to say, “He lies. He’s the assassin.”

Honda scowled. “Drop your sword,” he growled.

“No.”

“Then, by the Gods, I’ll make you drop your sword or kill you in the process!”

“That wouldn’t be wise.”

Honda looked up. Ieyasu rode up to the tableau in time to offer advice. “I saw you take that man’s head as you cleared the rock, Honda-san, so I know you’ve lost none of your skills, but it’s foolish to fight with this man when you have six other samurai with you, especially since this is the man who won Hideyoshi’s sword-fighting tournament.”

Honda gave a start, and said, “I knew you were lying! You are the assassin!”

Ieyasu shook his head. “Look at the evidence before you, Honda-san. Do you see a bullet pouch on the ronin? Do you see a powder container? He’s not equipped as a musketeer. More important, his weapon is the sword. I was never convinced he would suddenly change to a musket to assassinate me. Now look at Niiya. The ronin has taken off his sash to bind him, but you can clearly see the bullet pouch and powder containers lying next to him. They were tucked into his sash. Niiya is known to be an expert with a musket. Obviously, he is the assassin.”

At Ieyasu’s words, Kaze returned his sword to its scabbard.

“This doesn’t make sense,” Honda spluttered.

“Nevertheless, it appears to be true,” Ieyasu said.

“You and your master are the worst kind of traitor,” Honda said to Niiya. “Trying to assassinate the Shogun is the worst crime imaginable.”

Niiya said nothing, his face a stoic mask.

“With all respect, Honda-san, I think you’re wrong,” Kaze said.

“What are you talking about? You caught him in the very act of trying to kill Ieyasu-sama.”

“No. I think he was trying to kill you.”

“Me!” Honda exclaimed. “What possible reason would he have for wanting to kill me?”

“The same reason he had for killing Nakamura-san,” Kaze said.

“This is ridiculous,” Honda replied. He looked at Ieyasu. “This man must have gone mad.”

Ieyasu said nothing, studying Kaze intently.

Kaze thought he was being dissected by those eyes. Every portion of his character was being divided into manageable parts, examined, and then put back together so Ieyasu could have a complete catalog of his soul. Ieyasu’s ability to read and manipulate people was the foundation of success for what was otherwise a very ordinary man.

“I know what you’re saying,” Ieyasu said. “But how can such a thing be proved?”

“Niiya is the finest shot in Japan. I was being chased across the roofs of Edo, and he took a shot at me. He hit my kimono sleeve when no one else could possibly do so. I asked who was in charge of the party pursuing me when that shot was taken. I knew that shot was made by the man in charge, and that man could hit whatever he wanted to. Once the thought occurred to me that you were not the actual target, Ieyasu-sama, I realized that it was the marksman, not the gun, who was the link to the real assassins. At that distance, any man could miss you and hit Nakamura-san by mistake. It would require an extraordinary marksman to ensure he would not hit you, but still kill Nakamura-san, who was standing next to you,” Kaze said. “Niiya is that man. If you’ll allow me to do a demonstration with him, I can prove it.”

“Demonstration! What kind of demonstration?” Honda demanded. “You surely don’t intend to give this man his musket?”

Kaze said nothing, looking to Ieyasu to await his decision.

Finally, Ieyasu said, “Go ahead. If it is true that they are not trying to kill me, then I may be more merciful to Yoshida’s clan. Otherwise, I’ll kill them all-men, women, children, and babies. They’ll all die.”

Kaze looked at Niiya. “Your master tried to reach for the stars. He has failed. Regardless of the result of our demonstration, he will go to the great void and so will you. But with your skill, you have an opportunity to save the lives of the others in your clan. Perhaps your own family. This is your one chance.”

Niiya remained impassive. Kaze untied Niiya’s hands. Then he grabbed the pouch with the musket balls from the ground. He reached in the pouch and took out one musket ball. He held it up to Niiya. After a second, Niiya reached out and took the ball, then picked up the gunpowder container.

“Good,” Kaze said. Kaze went to retrieve Niiya’s musket. From the workmanship, he immediately recognized it as an Inatomi musket. As he handed it back to Niiya, he said, “Do you have a flint and steel to start the fuse burning? It’s gone out.”

Niiya nodded.

Kaze started walking away from Niiya, pacing off 140 paces, the approximate distance of Niiya’s first shot at the castle wall. When he had reached the required distance, he looked around and saw a wild persimmon tree, its fruit past its prime but still a fiery orange. He walked over and picked one, then returned to his position.

Ieyasu, Honda, and the rest had dismounted to watch the exhibition. Kaze could see that Niiya had already used his flint and steel to get the fuse burning on the matchlock. Then Niiya loaded the matchlock with gunpowder and the musket ball given to him.

“I think Honda-san should stand away from Niiya-san, just in case Niiya-san decides that he’d rather finish his mission than exhibit his skills,” Kaze shouted.

“This is ridiculous,” Honda said. “I won’t stand aside.”

“Ieyasu-sama, please order him,” Kaze shouted, when he saw that Honda was going to be stubborn.

“Stand aside,” Ieyasu said. He did not raise his voice, but the tone of command was clear and overwhelming.

Honda gave a short bow and stepped to the side of Niiya, so Niiya couldn’t train his gun on him unless he made a complete turn. Kaze took the persimmon and held it up in the palm of his hand, just a hand-span away from his head. Niiya looked at Kaze and then raised the musket up to his shoulder, taking careful aim. Kaze saw the barrel of the gun move almost imperceptibly toward him.

“This is the only chance you have to exhibit your skills in front of Ieyasu-sama,” Kaze shouted to Niiya. “I can understand the urge for revenge, but surely you want Ieyasu-sama to know what a fantastic marksman you are. More important, by killing me, you will be killing the rest of your clan.”

Niiya put the gun down and wiped his palm on the side of his kimono; then he touched the side of his face where the rock had hit. Then he put the gun back up to his shoulder and in one smooth motion, trained the gun, took aim, and fired. The crack of the musket filled the quiet forest air. Three birds flew out of a tree at the report of the gun. Kaze felt the persimmon in his palm explode as the lead ball hit it.

Involuntarily, Honda exclaimed, “Incredible! That’s the finest shot I’ve ever seen.” Kaze shook the persimmon pulp from his hand, and simply said, “Messy.”

Niiya showed no pleasure or satisfaction at his accomplishment. He simply put his musket down and waited as Kaze walked back to the group.

Niiya turned to Ieyasu and dropped to both knees. “Would you accept my gun, Ieyasu-sama? It is a superb weapon, one of the last that Inatomi-sensei made, and one of his finest. I am sorry that I had to kill Inatomi-sensei and his household. The men that Matsuyama-san and Honda-san killed were the ones who helped me. Yoshida-san sent us ahead of him, before he arrived with the official party, to eliminate any possible link between Inatomi-sensei and us. That killing is the one thing I regret about this affair, but that regret doesn’t diminish the craftsmanship of this musket. I would not like to think of it falling into hands that would not appreciate it.”

Ieyasu nodded and signaled for one of his guards to step forward and take the gun out of Niiya’s hands.

Honda said, “I don’t understand this. What is going on? What was that demonstration supposed to prove?”

“It proves, Honda-san,” Ieyasu said quietly, “that I was not the target for the first assassination attempt. It was not the case of the assassin missing me and hitting Nakamura-san by mistake. This man hit exactly whom he intended to hit, just as he would have killed you, if the ronin had not interfered.”

“Why would Yoshida-san want to kill Nakamura-san and me?” Honda said. “I don’t understand it.”

“Because Yoshida-san understood he could not become Shogun, at least right now, even if I died. With you gone and Nakamura-san gone, there would be no other rivals for the top spot in my government. Yoshida-san would be in a position of trust, a position that would allow him to gather power over the years. When it was my time to pass into another existence, he might be strong enough to depose my son Hidetada and become the next Shogun. Even if he couldn’t do that, he would have a secure and respected position in the government and would surely prosper from it in the years to come. It’s a time-honored tactic for the number-two man to try and become number one when the opportunity presents itself.”

Kaze looked at Ieyasu and thought, That’s exactly what Ieyasu did when Hideyoshi died.

Ieyasu turned to Kaze. “What is it you call yourself now?” he asked.

“Matsuyama Kaze.”

“Well, Matsuyama-san, I owe you a debt. I can only imagine what you must have suffered. But I will restore your name and family, and also restore to you the fief that once was your Lord’s. Okubo-san is administering it now, but that’s only because he was able to conquer it, not because it was awarded to him. I need men like you to help create a new Japan. Perhaps there will also be a place for you in my new government.”

Kaze bowed to show that he was grateful for Ieyasu’s offer. “I’m sorry, Ieyasu-sama,” Kaze said. “That’s not the reward I want.”

Okubo arrived with a small escort, galloping across the field to the edge of the woods where Ieyasu and his party were waiting. The sudden summons to meet with Ieyasu had come as a surprise to Okubo, and he had no idea why the new Shogun wanted to see him.

Despite his injured leg, Okubo was able to jump out of his saddle in smart fashion, limping forward to the Shogun and dropping to one knee. “You asked for me, Ieyasu-sama?” he asked.

“Good. Did you bring your weapon?” Ieyasu asked.

“Yes, Ieyasu-sama. My daito is strapped to my horse.”

“But no armor?”

Okubo struck his chest, to show he had no chain mail under his kimono. “None, Ieyasu-sama.”

“I know this was an unusual request,” Ieyasu said.

“I live to obey,” Okubo responded.

Ieyasu looked at the daimyo impassively, then said, “Take your weapon and go into those woods. In a short distance, you will find a meadow. In the meadow is an old acquaintance.”

Okubo looked up in surprise. “Could you tell me what this is about, Ieyasu-sama? Who is this acquaintance you mentioned?”

“All will be explained when you get to the meadow.”

Puzzled, Okubo got up and walked to his horse. He drew the long sword, the daito, from its scabbard. Holding the weapon at the ready, he started walking toward the woods, with his escort following.

“Have your samurai wait here,” Ieyasu ordered.

Okubo licked his lips, disquieted by the Shogun’s strange orders, but he motioned with his hand for his escort to wait. Okubo’s samurai looked at each other, perhaps thinking they should disobey the order and not allow their Lord to go unescorted into the woods. They had seen many examples of Okubo’s wrath at not being obeyed, however, and so the samurai stood around, looking alternately at the impassive Shogun and the back of their Lord, retreating into the woods.

Okubo made his way between the trees gingerly. His damaged leg was a hindrance, but he had worked hard at compensating for it through the use of the especially long daito, so he was confident that he was able to handle anyone, or anything, that was waiting for him.

In a few minutes, he found the meadow Ieyasu had mentioned, but found it empty. The sun was high in the sky, and it turned the grass of the meadow a soft golden-green. Okubo walked into the meadow a few feet, then stopped to look around.

“I’m here,” a voice said softly from behind him.

Okubo spun around and looked up. He saw a man sitting on a tree limb above his head. He was sitting in the lotus position, an unsheathed sword lying across his knees.

“You!” Okubo’s face changed from surprise to hate with the quickness of a summer storm. “I’ve waited a long time for this!”

“As have I,” Kaze said. “And this time your chamberlain isn’t here to try to bribe me.”

“What do you mean?”

“You don’t know?”

Okubo smiled. “Why don’t you tell me?”

“The night before the final match of Hideyoshi-sama’s sword tournament, the chamberlain of your clan visited me. He promised me that the valley between our two clans, the one your father was always fighting over, would be ceded to our clan if I let you win. It was a devil of an offer, because your chamberlain knew that an offer to enrich me would have no meaning, but an offer to help my clan would tear at my loyalties. Later my Lord came to wish me luck, and he saw I was troubled. When he heard your clan’s chamberlain visited me, he didn’t ask me the details, he just said to follow the path of honor.”

“Honor! You should have taken the offer. It’s the way of the world to take the path of advantage. You’re a bigger fool than I thought. No matter. I’ve been training for this moment for years. I expected to meet you under different circumstances, but I will defeat you this time. I’m astounded that Ieyasu-sama arranged this.”

“If it makes you feel any better, Ieyasu-sama has a little incentive for you if you’re the one who walks out of these woods alive.”

At Okubo’s puzzled face, Kaze continued. “Ieyasu-sama will give you my old Lord’s domains permanently if you are victorious. Currently you only manage them, until Ieyasu-sama decides what to do with them. If you live, he will make them part of your hereditary possessions. I heard him tell Honda-san that to placate him, when Honda-san raised a fuss about letting me have this confrontation with you as a reward.”

“Then I’ll have a double pleasure at killing you,” Okubo said. “My leg is a constant reminder of my hatred of you, and being able to permanently treat your clan the way I want will make things all the sweeter.”

Suddenly, Okubo stepped forward and took a vicious overhead cut at Kaze, sitting on the branch. Kaze rolled backward on the limb, grabbing his sword and flipping over in the air, landing on his feet with his sword at the ready as Okubo’s daito sliced completely through the limb he was sitting on.

Kaze moved forward to the attack, but Okubo’s daito was already in the aimed-at-the-eye position, the extreme length of the blade keeping Kaze at bay. Okubo retreated into the meadow, where he would have free room to maneuver his long sword. As he moved, Okubo talked.

“Have you visited your old home lately?” he asked. “As you know, I am renowned for my strictness as a leader. Your previous lord was such a weakling, he didn’t even have pots for boiling criminals in his domain. I’ve certainly fixed that, and in the few years I’ve been controlling your old home, I have used them frequently. In fact, your old clansmen have a new saying. They say the fires of their miserable life are hotter than the fires of hell. I hear they call me Oni Okubo, the Devil Okubo. That’s quite a compliment, don’t you think?”

Kaze’s face flushed from anger. “You were always good at cruelty,” he replied. “It’s not something that most men would be proud of.”

“On the contrary. I have always been good at pleasure. At least at the things that give me pleasure. Do you know that I had both your Lady and her daughter? I was the first man to enjoy the Lady’s pleasures besides her husband, although I did let several of my officers indulge themselves with her after I was done. I also took the virginity of her daughter. I think she was six or seven at the time and raised an awful fuss until I beat her quite senseless. I can’t say which I enjoyed more, the mother or the daughter. They each had their special charms.”

Making a low cry from his gut, Kaze attacked Okubo, slashing furiously at him. Okubo easily parried Kaze’s blows with his long sword. Then, almost as if he was playing with Kaze, he stepped forward into a quick counterattack that drove Kaze back. Kaze parried the blows from the long sword. He was intent on pressing his attack to kill Okubo, but his anger confused his sword sense, making his parries seem mechanical and ponderously slow.

A bad block to one of Okubo’s cuts left a deep gash on his forearm, sending a tingling sensation up his arm that spelled a weakening of his use of the arm. For some reason, the skills of a lifetime seemed to desert him when he wanted them most.

“Ah, first blood,” Okubo said. “This is a Masamune blade. They’re forbidden by Ieyasu-sama, but I don’t know why. This one has a special thirst for blood, and seems to seek it every time I draw it. I intend to sate it today, feasting on your blood. You know, you’re not really as strong a swordsman as I remembered you. I think in the ten years since we met my skills have increased and yours have declined. In a way, giving me this limp was almost a blessing. It forced me to take up the daito.” He made a quick slash with the long sword, creating a vicious swoosh as the blade cut through the air at high speed. “With this blade I control twice the area that you can with your katana. It’s easy when I can keep a safe distance from you while still threatening you with my blade.”

Okubo illustrated his point by stepping forward to attack again. Kaze was driven back. Okubo laughed. “See! Your puny sword is no match for my daito.”

Kaze looked down and saw the blood dripping off his arm. He then looked at the long expanse of Okubo’s sword blade, twice as long as his own katana. The daito was gleaming dully and malevolently, even in the bright sunshine; truly a Masamune blade. Kaze’s own blade shone brightly and cleanly, but it was far from being close enough to deliver a cut, much less a mortal blow, to Okubo.

Until you defeat yourself, you cannot defeat others.

The words of Kaze’s Sensei came to him. It was true that Okubo’s long sword gave him superior reach, but, digging deep into his spirit, Kaze knew the reason he was being defeated was not because of superior weaponry. Kaze was being defeated because of a lack of character.

He was attacking Okubo with rage and hate in his heart; two emotions that inevitably destroy the man who holds them. He was letting his anger control his blade and he was letting his hatred control his ability to fight. The result was that he was not using his skills the way he was taught. He could use those skills as an instrument of rage and hatred, or he could use them as an instrument of justice.

For all the wrongs that Okubo had inflicted upon the Lady, the Lady’s child, Kaze, Kaze’s clan, his own clan, and numerous other victims, Okubo deserved the harsh hand of justice. Okubo was evil. Undoubtedly, the greatest evil embodied in a single man that Kaze had ever come across. But to destroy him, Kaze had to use his sense of righteousness and skills as a swordsman, instead of his rage and anger as one of Okubo’s victims.

He stepped back two or three paces, watching Okubo carefully, but lowering his sword to the aimed-at-the-knee position. He took a deep breath and slowly let it exhale, trying to vent the rage within his body with the escaping air. “I am the sword of righteousness. I am the blade of justice,” Kaze said in a low voice.

“What are you saying, fool?” Okubo asked, unable to hear Kaze’s words. “Don’t think that you’re going to escape. I’ve been waiting for this for a long time. For all the hours in the dojo that I trained, I motivated myself by always having your face before me. That’s why my skills with the long sword have grown so magnificently. I had a good motivator. My hatred for you. Now, by the gift of the Gods and the machinations of Ieyasu, I will finally be able to satisfy this hatred and kill you. I only pray that I don’t have to kill you all at once. That I can cut at you, just as I’ve damaged your arm, and slowly slice you into pieces, savoring each moment.

“I’m going to tell you something,” Okubo said. “I will have a great victory banquet that will celebrate the complete and final destruction of you, your clan, your Lord, your Lady, and all the people that I hate. Your head, pickled in salt, will be the centerpiece for that banquet. I’ll invite all my samurai, each in turn, to relieve themselves on your face, to show the contempt I have for you. And I won’t forget Ieyasu, either,” Okubo said with a small smile. “As my destruction of you and your clan has shown, I’m a patient man when I need to be. I will eventually take my revenge on Ieyasu. I had hoped to work with Ieyasu and improve my position. I’ll still do that. I’ll also wait for any opportunity to destroy Ieyasu and his entire household.”

Kaze was surprised that Okubo revealed so much of himself, but he realized that Okubo felt free to display his inner thoughts because he knew that only one of them would be alive at the end of the duel.

Kaze knew the same thing.

Unlike Okubo, however, Kaze felt no need to provoke or taunt. In fact, he was trying to do the opposite; to withdraw emotionally from the duel, to swallow his rage and achieve a state of non-mindedness, to defeat himself before he tried to defeat another. He realized that the more he wanted Okubo dead, the less likely it was that he would achieve his goal. The more he tried to control the bout, the less he was in control of himself.

Okubo stepped forward to attack once again. Kaze planted his feet, feeling the strength flow into him from the earth. Automatically, Kaze’s blade flew to the right position to block Okubo’s daito, the slim sliver of steel moving almost of its own accord, without Kaze having to consciously direct it.

When Kaze didn’t give ground, Okubo stepped back. He had a look of concern on his face, wondering what sudden change had occurred so that the techniques and tactics he had used successfully just moments before were now neutralized.

“I am the sword of righteousness. I am the blade of justice,” Kaze said to himself. Over and over like a mantra. The sword of righteousness and the blade of justice.

With his blade at the aimed-at-the-knee position, Kaze twisted his sword until the shiny surface caught the sun’s rays, bouncing a shaft of light upward and into Okubo’s face. Okubo blinked at the flash of light hitting his eyes, and Kaze stepped forward, putting himself inside the arc of Okubo’s blade. He was putting himself into the reach of death, but it was the only way to get close enough to deliver a cut at Okubo.

Okubo slashed downward at Kaze, intending to cleave him in two. With Okubo slightly off balance from the blinding light, Kaze was able to move to one side. He felt Okubo’s blade swing past his face and come close to his shoulder. The deadly edge of the blade slightly brushed the cloth of his kimono, and he actually felt the wind generated by the moving sword slide down his arm.

Once Kaze was safely inside the arc of Okubo’s blade, the long sword turned from an asset into a liability. Although it had greater reach, it was not as nimble as a standard katana. Without Kaze’s thinking, without his planning the blow, his blade came across horizontally and transversely sliced Okubo’s stomach, just like the cut made during seppuku. Okubo gave a cry of pain and looked down to see his entrails bursting forth from the wound. He gave a moan and reached out with one hand to hold his guts in.

Holding his long sword with the other hand, he took an ineffectual slice at Kaze, one Kaze easily blocked. Kaze stood back and assured himself that the cut he delivered was mortal. He looked at Okubo’s face and saw pain and fear painted across it. He should have stepped forward to deliver a blow to Okubo’s neck, taking his head and putting Okubo out of his misery. Instead, Kaze turned on his heel and started walking out of the grove. Behind him, he heard Okubo give a gasp of pain. Kaze looked over his shoulder and saw Okubo take two staggering steps, and then crumple to the ground, like a rotting leaf falling off a branch. Lying on the ground, Okubo looked up and his tearful eyes caught Kaze’s for a brief instant.

“I’ll see you at the gates of hell,” Okubo said, before the pain caused him to suck in his breath sharply and say no more.

“Perhaps,” Kaze answered. “I’ve killed too many men not to make hell a possibility. But everyone I’ve killed had an equal chance of killing me. More important, most that I’ve killed have made the world a better place by leaving it. You, on the other hand, have always sought out the weak and helpless to kill. You relished making their death as slow and painful as possible. You’re one of those twisted men who take pleasure in the pain of others. If I were a truly good man, I’d come over there and take your head, putting an end to your suffering as you spill your life and guts on the ground. But, unfortunately, Okubo, I am not that good. For what you’ve done, it would take a Buddha to want to ease your passage into the void. For the deaths I’ve caused and the suffering I’m putting you through, my karma may lead me to hell. But you’ll be going before me.”

Kaze left the grove, leaving his enemy to die a slow and agonizing death. When he approached Ieyasu, the Shogun knew how the duel had gone.

“It’s a pity,” Ieyasu said.

Kaze wasn’t quite sure what Ieyasu meant by that. Maybe he thought it was a pity that a ronin killed a daimyo. Perhaps he thought it was a pity that it was the human condition to fight. Maybe he just thought Kaze was a fool for taking Okubo instead of the other rewards offered him.

Ieyasu didn’t elaborate, and instead, seeing the wound on Kaze’s arm, he ordered a retainer to bring Kaze a bandage. As the bandage was being tied, Ieyasu said conversationally, “I saw you the last time you fought Okubo at Hideyoshi’s great sword exhibition. I enjoyed that. I would have liked seeing you this time, too, to see if your skills have diminished.”

“You would have seen a poor exhibition,” Kaze said frankly. “I let anger control my sword, not righteousness. Until righteousness controlled my sword, I was losing.”

Ieyasu nodded. “Anger is an enemy.”

When the bandage was tied tight, Kaze stood and gave a stiff, formal bow to the Shogun.

“Thank you for having my wound bandaged, Ieyasu-sama.”

“Are you sure you won’t reconsider joining me?” Ieyasu asked. “Yagyu is my fencing master, but I can always use a sharp blade like yours.”

“Perhaps my blade is too sharp, Ieyasu-sama, for I find I must balance on it as best I can. I mean no disrespect, Ieyasu-sama, but if I should change my loyalty so easily, then I would surely fall off that blade, tumbling to one side or the other, and never able to get back to a state of equilibrium.”

Ieyasu looked at the ronin. Matsuyama was tired from his recent bout with Okubo, but he showed modesty, restraint, and a lack of exaltation in his victory over his enemy. Ieyasu was a patient man. He would not have obtained the Shogunate if he were not. He stored away this man’s face and his new name of Matsuyama Kaze, feeling that, if he remained patient, somehow in the future he might get this remarkable swordsman to serve him.

Expressing none of this, Ieyasu walked to his horse and, despite his potbelly, swung up to his saddle with the ease brought by over fifty years of riding.

“I’ll take your name off the list of wanted men,” Ieyasu said to Kaze. He glanced at Okubo’s retainers, who were still confused about what was happening. “I can’t promise that Okubo’s clan or that Yoshida’s clan will not want revenge for what has happened today, but I won’t allow them to register an official vendetta against you.” He gave a curt nod of his head and galloped off, his surprised retainers scrambling to gain their own saddles and catch up with the man who was the ruler of Japan.