Kill the Shogun (12 page)

Puzzled by this action, the captain told the samurai with him, “Get him.”

With their swords naked, the three samurai rushed forward, only to start hopping about as they approached the workshop door. The red-hot coals from the forge burnt through their tabiclad feet.

In the seconds this bought him, the old man picked up a walking stick and charged out of the shop. His wooden geta shielded his feet from the hot coals.

Still recoiling from the burning coals, the lead samurai took an off-balanced, one-handed cut at the old man. The old man used his stick to knock the sword blade out of the way; then he rapped the wrist of the samurai with a sharp cut, as neatly executed as any fencing teacher using a wooden
bokken
practice sword. The captain heard a crack as the stick hit the samurai’s wrist, and the samurai, his wrist broken, yelped and dropped his sword.

“That’s not an old man,” the captain barked. “Kill him!”

The man reached down to pick up the dropped sword, and a second samurai took a vicious cut at his arm. The man smoothly changed the movement of his arm, causing the blade to miss by the smallest of measures. Then he picked up the sword and brought it up in time to parry a blow by the third samurai. His agility and balance, perched on the wooden geta, was amazing.

Instead of sparring with the two samurai, the man charged the captain. In one hand he had the sword, in the other the walking stick. The captain took an overhead, two-handed cut at the man.
The man met the blow with the sword, bending slightly to absorb the shock with his upraised arm. Before the captain could disengage his sword, the walking stick came round and struck the captain in the side of the head. The captain collapsed, knocked senseless, as the man bolted into the house.

The wind in my face.
The horse in fluid motion.
Freedom on four hooves.

Y
oshida was still in front of the gunsmith’s house, waiting impatiently for the captain to report back. He was about to send other samurai into the house to see what the situation was, when a man burst out of the front door of the house, brandishing a sword in one hand and a stick in the other. He had the hair of an old man, but the quickness and agility of a man in his prime.

Yoshida opened his mouth to shout an order to the remaining samurai, but before sound could escape his lips, the man took a cut at the reins of his horse. The sword cleanly cut the reins, which were still being held by the samurai on the ground. This samurai, in shock, looked stupidly at the limp cords hanging from his hand.

The man immediately hit Yoshida’s horse on the rump with the stick. Frightened, the horse bolted, carrying Yoshida off down the road at a full gallop. In ancient days, samurai were trained to ride horses without holding the reins, so they could shoot a bow and arrow at a full gallop. With the emphasis on the sword and the musket, the art of mounted archery had been diminished for all samurai, and Yoshida could only grab at his horse’s mane in an effort to bring the animal under control.

Yoshida’s samurai were frozen for an instant, uncertain if they should ride down the attacker or chase after their Lord. This instant was all Kaze needed. He sprang to the saddle of one of the unoccupied horses, just as two samurai burst from the house, adding to the confusion. Pulling on the reins to wheel the animal about, Kaze set off down the road in the opposite direction from Yoshida’s fleeing mount.

Three samurai decided to pursue Kaze, and the rest set off to catch Yoshida and bring his runaway horse under control.

As Kaze thundered down the road, he looked over his shoulder and saw his three pursuers. The fastest was approaching him rapidly, mounted on a better horse.

Kaze was riding toward Edo. With the expansion of Edo, the village of Ueno was eventually becoming a satellite of the capital, and the road between the two was fairly populated. As the horsemen rode down the road, peasants, servants, and merchants scattered like leaves before an approaching whirlwind. Kaze knew that when he reached Edo, the crowded streets would end the pursuit, and the samurai chasing him could count on help from the many officers patrolling the streets of the city. From that, Kaze also knew he would have to settle things quickly.

As the lead samurai caught him, Kaze slowed slightly to bring the samurai next to him. Kaze didn’t want the samurai behind him, where he could slash at the horse’s hindquarters to cripple Kaze’s mount. The samurai drew his sword and took a cut at Kaze’s head. Kaze ducked and threw the walking stick at the samurai with all the force he could muster. The samurai ducked, but not quickly enough. The stick caught the samurai across the forehead. He wobbled in the saddle for several strides of the horse, then neatly slid out of the saddle, falling to the dirt road in a sprawl.

Kaze quickly shifted his sword to his other hand, just in time to parry a cut by the second samurai, who had just caught him.
Kaze blocked a second cut, then shifted his weight so he could lean out to one side of the horse, closer to the samurai. Kaze quickly brought his sword upward, striking the samurai in the side. The samurai looked uncomprehendingly down at his flank, just starting to spurt blood. As the pain struck him, a cry burst from his lips and his horse immediately started to slow down, no longer spurred on by kicks in the side from its rider.

Kaze spun in his saddle and looked at the third samurai. Using the first finger on his sword hand, he crooked it and motioned to the samurai to come forward for his turn. The samurai looked at Kaze’s urging, then glanced over his shoulder at his two companions, one a receding dot sprawled on his back in the road and the other a man clutching at his side, trying to staunch the flow of blood. His eyes wide with fear, the samurai looked back at Kaze and shook his head, declining Kaze’s invitation to come forward and fight. Instead, he simply started slowing his horse, allowing Kaze to outdistance him as he fell farther and farther behind.

O
utrageous!” Yoshida was in a rage, all semblance of control gone. “A master craftsman and his entire household slaughtered! Four samurai confront one unarmed man in the garden, and the man disarms one of them and gets away. The man attacks me, cutting the reins of my horse as easily as he could have cut me, and no one stops him. He steals one of our horses, and three samurai can’t catch him. Fools! What kind of samurai are you? I should have the lot of you slit your bellies, and kill your families, too, just so your stupidity won’t be perpetuated in our clan!”

The entire party of samurai he took to Inatomi’s house were lying before him, literally prostrate on their bellies to show their remorse. Three had bandages on their feet to cover the burns, and one of these had his wrist bound tight in a splint. The captain had his head bandaged, with fresh blood still soaking through.
Another samurai, one of the riders, had made an involuntary groan as he prostrated himself, his back twisted by his fall from his horse. The only man missing from the party was the one who’d had his side slashed. The doctors said he was too ill to move, although they did say he would live. It was amazing how much carnage one man could inflict on a party of trained warriors.

“I will commit seppuku to atone for the failure on myself and my men,” the captain said.

Yoshida snorted. “You truly are an idiot,” he said with contempt. “You men know what this devil looks like. If you kill yourselves, then we’re left with no men in our clan who know this old man.”

“Yoshida-sama,” the captain said, “I don’t think this was an old man. I think it was a much younger man dressed in the clothes of an ojiisan. Somehow he had white hair, but I’m positive it was not a man whose age matched his hair.”

Surprised, Yoshida said, “It was a younger man?”

“Yes, Yoshida-sama.”

Yoshida rubbed his chin. This was an interesting piece of news. “Do you think it could be this Matsuyama Kaze in a disguise?” he asked.

“I don’t know, Yoshida-sama, but he fought like the demon this Matsuyama Kaze is supposed to be.”

Yoshida didn’t know what this Kaze looked like. Ieyasu-sama, Okubo, several of Okubo’s officers, and a few others knew Kaze’s face because they had seen him at Hideyoshi’s sword tournament, but Yoshida had not thought to take someone with him who knew the man he was hunting when he went to Inatomi’s house. Yoshida looked at Niiya, who was also in the room, and said, “What do you think of this development, Niiya?”

Niiya shook his head, surprised. “It’s amazing. Still, if the man
at Inatomi’s was Matsuyama Kaze, it makes for an interesting twist.”

“Yes, it does,” Yoshida agreed. Then, looking at his cowering samurai, Yoshida said, “As for you, get out of my sight. Don’t slit your belly in the mistaken belief it will reduce my anger. I need men who know the face of this devil; otherwise I will have to depend on someone like Okubo-san to identify this man when we finally take his head. After all the embarrassment this man has caused us, I want to be able to settle this affair myself, without help from others. I want to present Ieyasu-sama with this man’s head, and I want to make sure I give him the right one. Now get out!”

The samurai pulled themselves into a kneeling position and scooted out of the room backward, bowing the entire time to show their contrition.

Niiya walked over to the opening the samurai exited from and slid close the screens for privacy. He approached Yoshida, and Yoshida said, “Ieyasu-sama will be interested to know that it might have been Matsuyama who slaughtered Inatomi and his household. Okubo-san mentioned that the ronin had done something similar in Kamakura.”

Niiya nodded his head, and said, “We have another interesting bit of news.”

“What is that?”

“The other night, when Matsuyama escaped us by jumping into the canal, a man going to his privy in the middle of the night caught a glimpse of a strange figure. It was a man, soaking wet. The man only got a brief glimpse, but it could be this Matsuyama.”

“You never found the body in the canal?”

Niiya’s face burned red. “No, Yoshida-sama. I was sure I hit him. I never miss what I aim at, but I guess it was not a serious hit.”

Yoshida said nothing about Niiya’s assertions about his marksmanship.
He had seen enough evidence to know Niiya was not just boasting idly. Instead, he asked, “Where was this man?”

“In Ningyo-cho.”

T
hat afternoon it started to rain. Kaze had abandoned the horse at the edge of Edo. It would either find its own way back to its stable or a patrol would find it. Now he stood on the street, watching the Little Flower Whorehouse carefully. He was still in the disguise of an old man, in a rain-soaked and threadbare kimono. Rain dripped down the sloping sides of his peasant’s hat, forming a watery curtain that hid his face. He had wanted to find another disguise, but he felt none of the other costumes in the theater would pass muster on the street. They were suitable for a stage performance in the flickering glow of paper lanterns, but they didn’t look realistic in the daylight.

The Little Flower was tough to solve. It had only one door, and there seemed to be a servant guarding that door constantly. Kaze would get a glimpse of someone just in the doorway, occasionally letting vendors in who delivered food, sakè, and other supplies. Kaze could, of course, force his way into the house, using his sword, but that wouldn’t tell him if the girl was there, or where she might be located in the house.

There seemed to be no outside windows, although Kaze was sure that the house would have screens that opened into inner courtyards for ventilation and light. By getting on the roof, Kaze could enter the courtyards, but he would again have the problem of knowing if the girl was there and where she was kept.

It was a difficult problem, and one Kaze decided he would have to think about some more. He shuffled off down the street, returning to the Kabuki theater. As he walked away, another figure watched him intently. Kaze was very good about knowing his environment,
sensing when he was being watched and when enemies were near. But the watcher was also good. Extremely good.

His entire life was devoted to both keeping out of the eye of those who might hunt him, and keeping track of those he would hunt. His natural excitement at having spotted Kaze was tempered by his knowledge of how truly dangerous this man was.

When they received the commission, the men assigned to the task studied a drawing to identify Kaze. It wasn’t a portrait in the conventional sense, but a sketch of Kaze’s face drawn to highlight points of identification. Did his earlobes join the head, or did they hang free? What was the exact shape of his jaw? What was the curve of his eyebrows? With a few strokes of the brush, a ninja who had seen Kaze at Hideyoshi’s sword tournament was able to create an identification drawing. The Koga clan, like all ninja clans, tried to remember the faces of the men of exceptional fighting ability, as well as the faces of the great daimyo. The former were likely to be with the latter, and a ninja had to identify both.

In addition to eyes, the ears of the ninja extended everywhere, especially in a busy city like Edo. The man already knew of the dripping wet man spotted in Ningyo-cho. He also knew of Yoshida’s encounter with an old man of exceptional fighting qualities at Inatomi-sensei’s house. He surmised that the two might be the same: a young man disguised as an old.

Therefore, he was already looking for an old man when he passed the ojiisan standing in the rain. There was much one could do with clothes, posture, and gray hair to give the appearance of an old man, but no one could disguise their hands. Another, not trained to the state of alertness of the ninja, might have missed the fact that the old man’s hands were much too young for the wet gray hair peeking out from the straw peasant’s hat. Even fewer would notice that the hands had the calluses of a swordsman. Yet
a glance at the old man’s hands as the ninja passed him told him that the muscular ojiisan standing in the rain was not what he appeared to be.

Showing extreme caution, the ninja followed Kaze down the wet street.