Walking through the forest was miserable as the storm of storms roared
overhead and the water made the narrow trail they followed through the
trees treacherous and slippery as they stumbled through the night and the
horrible sounds that managed to out cry the rain.
The sounds of battle haunted them this night.
Far too soon, even the sounds of battle where lost to the mountains, and
they where alone.
Keiji tried to figure out which was worst: the rain and the muck, the
sounds of battle that had haunted them throughout the night, or the eerie
silence that followed dawn's light on the horizon.
With the arrival of dawn, the way became easier, and the trees ceased to
hide horrific demons of the night, much to Keiji's relief and he discovered
a road running alongside the forest.
Yet the shadows of the night still loomed in his mind.
So much had happened so soon.
His world of playmates, Dansha, and home where gone.
They where a distant past now.
In the washing away of the old, the true, terrifying nature of the world he
lived in was, at last, revealed.
Keiji was following his mother closely when she suddenly stopped and
stiffened.
Terrified, Keiji peered cautiously around her to see what was happening.
He wondered as he watched her raise the naginata slowly and crouch among
the bushes not to far from the road with her eyes intent upon a figure
beside roadway.
All he could see was steel gray hair and the robes of a monk in the early
light, though it was impossible to who it was.
Was this the figure who disturbed her?
As if to answer his question, his mother slunk forward, sleek and powerful
as a tiger, and with surprising speed, she closed the distance between them
and the figure.
For a solid moment in time, she resembled a serpent striking out, and then
the moment became fluid once again as she whirled the naginata in for the
strike.
It flashed in the weak rays of morning as made its arc for the figure in a
whirlwind of light.
The figure turned slightly and Keiji expected to see the figure fall but a
stiff clang resounded in the air as a staff they hadn't noticed before,
rose to meet the naginata.
Keiji ran for his mother as fast as his little legs would propel him
forward.
His mother had recovered from her surprise, a vicious expression now
crossed her face, and was turning for another attack when a old but firm
voice shouted, "Peace! Explain to me, young woman, why you are attacking
unwary travelers this early and to what purpose? If your not a ronin's
wife, I'll eat my staff."
His mother stopped and the naginata dropped to the ground as she stood eye
to eye with the old man, "I am not a ronin's wife, Juzo no baka! Pulling
stunts like that will put you in a early grave! You sent my heart up into
my throat!"
The old monk looked sheepish as he bowed his head in agreement .
"My apologies Maya, I didn't expect to come across you until I was in
Dansha? At any cross-road, this must be your son Keiji and where's Masake?
You two shouldn't be on your own, traveling without him, and only a
naginata to defend yourselves? Where is he?! The bandit Chief, Kazuo, is
on one of his raids! He and his men where seen, not to long ago, crossing
the mountain pass! The young fool, if I where younger and could wield a
katana the way I did in the past, he would think twice before harassing the
innocent. Vile creature that one. . ." Juzo replied as his attention
drifted to the subject of Kazuo.
It would be the first time for Keiji to hear Kazuo's name spoken, but not
the last as the sound of approaching horses drifted to their ears.
The old monk, Juzo, stiffened and his mother grabbed the naginata from
where it had fallen.
"Into the trees." the old monk commanded and they plunged back into the
forest.
They moved out of sight when the horses came to a thundering halt where
they had been standing moments before.
"Bandits. . ." Juzo hissed silently at the group.
The bandits wore mismatched armor, horrendous scares that made Keiji wonder
if they where human, and the rank sweet sent of death and blood hung around
them in the still morning air.
A tall man in the middle of the group, with a sharp expression and slanted
eyes, captured Keiji's attention.
His armor looked to be one whole suit and only a swath of white that ran
the length of his arm spoke of any injury to him that could be seen. The
man's eyes spoke of a sharp, keen, and lethal intelligence that was to be
feared and admired in all its selfish brutality.
The man's eyes paused briefly over where they hid, and all held their
breath in fear of being discovered, but he turned after a long stretch of
time to continue scanning the forest and the road ahead of them.
Keiji had to muffle a gasp as he noticed the katana that hung at his side.
The katana was a dark, terrible, black and the change to this dark color
not been whole throughout the katana's shaft and hilt, otherwise, he would
have never known that a familiar crimson stared back at him in wild
splashes.
The bandit wore his father's katana and that meant. . . .
"Chief," one of the riders laughed drunkenly weaving to and fro on his
mount, "why have we ridden away from the rest of the band? There's women
and sake back in the village! Lets go enjoy the party, not sit out here
and let our katanas rust! What is this all about?"
"The man who gave me this," he began as he raised his bandaged arm, "had a wife
and son who where not among the dead and I knew Masake, in all his foolishness,
considered it honorable to let his family to live and he die, probably, but
now, they are alone and vulnerable. For a long time I have desired his
wife. The son, I fear, could grow up to be like his father, and I believe
it is best to end Masake's line now and not let the son reach manhood,
where he could damage my band. When we find him, whomever finds him, kill
him without question." he replied as his vision returned to their hiding
place.
For a brief moment it seemed they where starring at one another, eye to
eye, will set against will. Beside him, Keiji could feel his mother
shaking and when he turned he saw tears running down the sides of her face
and her knuckles grow white as she clenched the naginata as though it where
life itself.
He himself was shaking though he didn't feel cold.
Why did he want to go after the man with only his bare hands and his mother
clench the shaft of the naginata as though it where it was all she had to
live for?
How had this single man managed to invoke so much in his heart?
So many questions, but yet he could find no answers for any he could ask,
and he did not desire to know the final truth.
Yet the defiled katana of his father haunted him as it hung, both a warning
and a call to something deeper within him, a will and desire to stop this
man and all in which he tried to destroy. Even as he crouched there,
watching and listening to the bandit chief laugh about the raid and the
slaying of his father, the cursing of his name for the wound on his arm.
He vowed to stop him and retake the katana from him. The katana had
awakened him and he would repay his debt.
The riders moved on, much to old Juzo's relief, as they watched them go.
"I can offer you shelter at my temple and train the boy in the ways of
bushido and teach him all I know in ken-jutsu. It goes against all I have
come to believe in, but I want to see that vile man brought down for what
he has done. Something tells me Masake cannot and will not rest peacefully
until his murderer is halted." Juzo replied as he placed a grizzled hand on
Keiji's head.
"Thank you, Juzo. With Dansha destroyed, we have nowhere else to go."she
answered after tense moment of silence.
When the old monk turned and meet Keiji's eyes, he did not need to hear the
boy's reply.
