Gintaro, Saru, and Nō set out early, exiting the western gates of the New Capital just as a bright dawn was breaking over the eastern bay. They had dwelt a week in the tranquil house of Matsumoto-san and had rested and refreshed themselves. They knew the journey ahead would be long and perilous, and winter was on its way.

  Their host, Matsumoto-san, tried his utmost to persuade them to stay until spring, but Gin politely declined, and he eventually told the old man why he required such haste. He would have left the day after his duel with Kondo Daisuke if Saru had not been so adamant that he stay and rest. Deciding it was too much of a bother to kindle his companion’s wrath, he relented, knowing that his wounds would slow him down anyway.

  After a week of repose, Gin’s injuries were healing well. The itch of urgency increased with each passing day until he could bear it no longer. The three travelers were given ample stores of food and supplies, indeed as much as they could carry, owing completely to Matsumoto’s benevolent generosity. He and Gintaro had formed a fast bond, as both had fought in the War of Ashes, and they often stayed up late, recalling old memories from the past. He kept their whereabouts a secret and did not betray their trust in any way. They had no visitors, other than Matsumoto’s most trusted sons, who treated them with reverence.

  Now that Gintaro was commissioned by the Shōgun himself to travel north and find the treasure under Oboroshi, he was unsure if he was still a wanted man. To be safe, he thought it prudent to remain inconspicuous until they were far enough away from the New Capital to not arouse suspicion.

  They had an inauspicious departure, for on the day they left the great city, the news of the Shōgun’s death first began to circulate to the masses. The three heard nothing of the seismic shift in political power, and this might have been a stroke of fortune, for it might have driven Gintaro back into the Hawk’s Perch, where his daughter was no longer held captive.

  As it was, they planned to travel on horseback for as long as possible. They had offered to return the horses borrowed from the Usagi daimyō to Matsumoto-san, but he politely refused them, telling them that their debt was to Usagi and him alone. They also kept the resilient steed that had made its way from the foothills of Osoroshi and had escaped the clutches of the wicked Tengu. That beast had come far with them and had grown quite fond of No. He finally came around to naming it Chikara. It was tasked with carrying the ancient armor of the Tengu, which Gin had a renewed interest in now that they were heading north.

  Their aim was to reach the halls under Oboroshi before the end of the year. It was still September, and the daytime weather was rather mild, with evenings bringing a chill that forewarned the coming of the first snows. The leaves were just starting to change in the lowlands but would be more vibrant in the mountains. The further north they went the colder it would become. Gin desired that they should reach their destination before heavy snowfall made their journey impossible.

  “If we can stay on the highway, we might be able to make it by the start of December,” he told them. “That is if we are not delayed along the way. We should cut through the heart of the country, then go north on the Hoji Road, which sits on the old border of the Tora and the Ryū domains.”

  “Why not take the Tora-dori?” Nō asked, running his hand through his horse’s mane. “It is closer and might be faster.”

  Gin shook his head. “While the Tora-dori may be nearer, it goes directly through the Tora domain, and I would like to avoid populated towns and cities if possible. The Hoji road runs through a frontier once contested by both the Tora and the Ryū clans, and now the Shōgun has declared it as his own. That land should be mostly desolate as it was ravaged by nearly one hundred years of war. The Hoji Road eventually merges with the Tora-dori and the Ryū-dō, to become the Kita-kyu which is the only major highway in the north that I am aware of. That road ends south of Akaii, so we will have to depart from it and enter the hinterlands on our own. There are no known paths to Oboroshi other than ancient ones akin to what we found in the Middle Country. That will be the most difficult part of our journey. If we manage to make it that far, we will discuss what we shall do then.”

  The others did not dispute this plan. Nō appeared solemn and determined but Saru seemed quite pleased and had a spark of delight in her eyes.

  “We are drawing ever closer to the lands of my home,” she said with a soft laugh. “And though it has been wonderful to journey across the Islands, I feel a sudden joy when I think about the halls of my father and the woodlands of Akaii.” She glanced over at Gintaro, but when she saw him lost in pensive thought, her joy suddenly faded.

  “I am looking forward to seeing the lands of your people,” Nō interjected warmly. “If it is possible.”

  Saru nodded at him politely but kept her eyes on their leader.

  Gintaro was silent for several minutes following this exchange, riding on as if in a trance. After some time, he slowed his horse and paused, allowing the others to stop beside him. He exhaled slowly as if preparing himself for a speech long held back. “I am grateful to you both for agreeing to come with me. It is a kindness that I cannot understand. Yet, now more than ever, there cannot be any distractions. My sole purpose in this is to save my daughter and every moment counts.”

  “It has always been that way. Why should it be any different now?” Saru returned with mild agitation.

  Gintaro turned his head and looked at her, sensing the scorn in her voice. “I just…I just needed to say it. I cannot be myself until this is finished.”

  Saru rolled her eyes and began to trot on ahead. “If you think that we don’t understand you by now,” she called out, “Then you hardly know your companions. Now, hurry up! You’re wasting precious time!”

  Surprised by Saru’s abrupt response, he glanced over at Nō, who merely laughed and spurred his horse on as well. He sat alone for a few moments, furrowing his eyebrows in confusion, and then, almost despite himself, he smiled.

  This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

  They traveled quickly for the rest of that day, well into the afternoon, and when they were far enough away from the New Capital that they no longer encountered heavy traffic, they slackened their pace. They were heading northwest along the Ninbun Highway, which cut across Nakashima from east to west. Gin anticipated that the first leg of their journey would be somewhat agreeable, as they would be traveling across the expansive lowlands that surrounded the New Capital and made it such an important economic region. Here there was more farmland than in any other place on the Islands. In former days, much of it was untapped but he could now see that many changes had indeed come over the lands since he had last been there.

  Years ago, these were untamed woodlands and dense marches. Now, expansive rice paddies covered the lands, separated by thriving farming villages. They passed through a number of these, and Gintaro was surprised to see the vigor of the farmers and the resourcefulness of the women, all working together with great energy. They were unafraid and unburdened by the violence of war and were left alone to succeed and make progress.

  “Was this what the War of Ashes was for?” Gin wondered to himself. He occasionally thought about such things, about why the war was necessary in the end. Never had he come to any satisfying conclusion.

  “It was a nightmare,” he recollected. “One that needed to end.” And it had for most, including these rustic townsfolk. It had not, however, ended for him or his daughter. They were still paying the price for his deeds.

  As predicted, the group traveled quickly on this road, and the first portion of their journey passed without incident. The weather was pleasant, and there was only one day of light rain. They stayed away from other travelers and camped out under the stars. The mountains loomed ever closer in their view, and soon the slope began to rise. A high range separated the east from the west coasts, but they would not have to worry about crossing it completely. They would soon find the Hoji Road, which turned north, and they would take that into the war-torn lands that had hosted many a battle between the fierce tigers and the dragons.

  Knowing that their direction would soon change and having gained confidence from their swift travel, Gintaro decided they should stay overnight at the next inn and refresh themselves. It had been ten long days of travel, and even he was starting to get saddle sore.

  It happened that they came to a town, Mizokuchi, at the base of the mountains and near the beginning of both the Hoji Road and the entrance to the Ryū domain. It was a simple farming village like the rest, but they specialized in timber, and many of the homes were made of sturdy wood, and of fine craftsmanship. Saru and Nō were overjoyed by the surprise and relished the chance to enjoy some of the local cuisine. After the group settled into their room, they made their way back into the dining hall for a hot dinner. The inn was not completely full, but it was busy enough, and the hum of the room was a welcome contrast to the solitude of the wilds.

  They enjoyed a steaming pot of pork, vegetables, and tofu, as well as the local miso. A bottle of warm sake was included, and each had a few cups until each was satisfied.

  “The closest the oni ever got to taking Shiro-ha was about ten or so years ago,” Saru was saying, her gestures becoming more dramatic with each sip of sake. “I was still a child, but I will never forget the muster that my people put forth in that hour. They came from every corner of Akaii! You should have seen all those spears and the banners flying in the wind. From that moment on I knew what I wanted to be. Even so, it was a hard-fought battle, and many did not return or if they did, they were not the same. They were quieter, and sterner than before. From that time, we have not engaged in any open warfare with the oni. We fought skirmishes here and there and have been able to hold our borders. Yet, I do not understand it, the brutes just keep coming! We have sought much advice over the years, even from the Truists, but we have found nothing to stem the tide. One day the oni may overtake us, but I pray that it won’t be during my time,” she vowed solemnly.

  “Akaii has been beset by oni for generations,” Gin interjected. “Some say it’s a curse.”

  “Then how should we lift it, oh wise one?” Saru jeered. “You are supposed to be the last Kaijin after all.”

  “I do not know. And I am no Kaijin. I have had more experience with men than with monsters. At least when men die, they do not come back.”

  “Sensei?” Nō asked all of a sudden, his eyes a bit bleary from the sake. “You never told us…”

  “Told you of what?” Gintaro repeated, nearly nodding off.

  “How you came to defeat that swordsman, that ninja outside the castle?”

  Gintaro's eyes flickered and he glanced around nervously. There were several few patrons still about the inn. No one appeared to be paying them any mind, but he felt anxious speaking about it, nonetheless. “It was not an easy victory,” he said quietly, taking a sip of sake. “You’ve treated my wounds.”

  “He must have been a great warrior,” Nō said, his eyes beaming with pride.

  “He was,” Gin agreed, “He was one of the best I have ever fought. He reminded me of my old…well, it doesn’t matter now.”

  “Please, Sensei, tell me about the duel. It will be good for my training,” Nō pleaded.

  Gin glanced over at Saru who raised her eyebrows at him. “It couldn’t hurt,” she said, leaning forward and putting her head in her hands.

  Feeling that he had little say in the matter, he eventually capitulated. “Well,” he began, “A duel between two skilled swordsmen is very much like reading the wind. It is something felt, more than seen. It is knowing who you are, and who your opponent is. You must have confidence in yourself, and that is where the training comes in. You must train to the point where it is impossible to fail. At the same time, you must clearly judge your opponent and recognize the talent in them as well as their weaknesses. Everyone has weaknesses. The ninja I fought may have beaten me the day before or the day after, for he was that skilled. On that day, however, I was the better man. His mind was unstable, which made him judge me differently than he might have. He could not see that I was holding back, and when I elevated my speed, he could not respond.”

  Nō nodded, as he seemed to hang upon his teacher’s every word.

  “He was also at another disadvantage, unbeknownst to him,” Gin continued. “His fighting style reminded me of another swordsman I had faced in the past, though not as sophisticated. Because of this, I could anticipate some of his movements, which added to my agility. That is the power that comes through experience, which should not be easily dismissed.”

  “And your injuries?” Saru interrupted, becoming irritated at Nō’s obvious pandering. “How do you explain those?”

  Gin shrugged. “Carelessness, old age, and even I was not in my right mind when I fought him.”

  “And why not?” Saru prodded.

  “Because…he was the man who kidnapped my daughter.”

  A hushed silence followed for the next several moments, as even Saru was at a loss for words. “You never told us this.”

  Gintaro took his last long draught of sake and placed the cup before him. “And I never intended to say anything. It does not matter now. He was only following orders. The Shōgun is the one who sent him. He alone was behind it. Defeating him only means that I get to stay alive.” He glanced around as if worried that he had been overheard. “We had better turn in for the night. We’ve stayed up long enough.”