Still holding his sword, Kaze looked up at the roof and the ninja. The ninja stood balanced on one leg, his other hanging uselessly, bleeding profusely. Hishigawa’s guards were running from the house, and it was obvious that he would soon be surrounded and captured.
Without a word, the ninja reversed his sword and put it under his chin. Putting both hands on the handle, he brought it up and into his throat. He stood for a brief moment like some strange statue, standing on one leg, with the sword impaled in his neck. Then he collapsed, rolling off the roof and falling to the ground.
Kaze ran to the ninja and ripped the cloth from his face. As Kaze suspected, the ninja’s features were unfamiliar to him. The dying man looked up into Kaze’s face with no hate or animosity. Kaze didn’t bother asking him who had hired him. A man who would commit suicide when he was about to be captured would not have the weakness of spirit to make a confession at the moment of death.
“I’ll carve a Kannon for you,” Kaze said.
A flicker of surprise crossed the ninja’s face. Then the brightness left his eyes and he was dead.
CHAPTER 20
White testament to
a short life of troubled tears.
Bones fill a cold grave.
The four figures were huddled together in a deadly serious council.
“Why do you think the ninja was here?” Hishigawa said.
“It was an assassination attempt,” Enomoto said.
“Yes,” Kaze agreed blandly. “Apparently you have created some bitter enemies, Hishigawa-san.”
Ando, the fourth figure, sucked her breath in at the assertion that the ninja was there to assassinate Hishigawa.
“How do you know the ninja was here to assassinate Hishigawa-san?” Enomoto asked.
“Who else? Hishigawa-san himself said there have been attempts on his life lately. That’s why he offered me the job of yojimbo.” Kaze looked at Hishigawa. “Can you tell me about these other attempts and who might have a grudge against you?”
“A man such as myself can make many enemies,” Hishigawa said evasively.
“It’s hard for me to help you if I don’t know the facts,” Kaze said reasonably.
“Well, there is-”
“Hishigawa-san,” Enomoto interrupted. “Before we discuss past problems, I’d like to ask Matsuyama-san a few questions about this ninja.”
“Dozo, please,” Kaze said, masking his disappointment that Hishigawa had been interrupted.
“How did you come to discover the ninja, Matsuyama-san?”
“I was out to view the moon. It’s in an especially beautiful phase now-almost full but with a delicate sliver still removed from it. When I looked up, I saw a figure on the roof.”
“Why didn’t you call the guard?”
“The guard wasn’t near where I was. There was a handy tree next to the house, so I decided to go up and investigate for myself.”
“Do you know why the ninja removed the lattice screens from both roof crests?”
Kaze smiled. “I imagine he took the wrong one off. He realized he was too far from Hishigawa-san’s sleeping room, so he went to the other end of the villa and removed that screen.”
“Do you really think he was trying to kill Hishigawa-san?” Ando broke in.
Kaze shrugged. “No one else here would be worth spending the money on a ninja. Don’t you agree, Enomoto-san?”
“I suppose so,” Enomoto said.
“Good,” Kaze said. “Now, Hishigawa-san, you were going to tell me the details of the other attempts on your life.”
“Before I left for Kyoto, we noticed a man watching the villa,” Hishigawa said. “Enomoto-san’s guards could never get close enough to him to question him, but he was interested in my movements. Once, when I went to Kamakura with just one guard, he attacked and killed my yojimbo. While he was doing that I managed to escape, but it forced me to move about with two or more guards.”
“Why do you think he wanted to kill you?”
“It’s a personal matter.” Hishigawa looked like he was going to be stubborn. If the attempted killer was Noguchi Mototane, Hishigawa was not going to admit to the vendetta. It was acceptable for the object of a vendetta to defend himself, but for some reason Hishigawa didn’t want to reveal the vendetta to Kaze.
“Did you eventually kill this assassin?”
“I didn’t kill him. Nor did Enomoto-san or any of my men.” Hishigawa said.
“You said there were many attempts on you life. What else happened?”
“Well, you saw one yourself, when Ishibashi tried to kill me.”
“Any others?”
“Aren’t three attempts to kill me in a few weeks enough?” Hishigawa said indignantly. “First a swordsman kills my yojimbo, then bandits kill my escort and their chief tries to kill me, and now a ninja tries to sneak into my house to assassinate me.”
“I would say three attempts in a short period of time were obviously not enough, Hishigawa-san, because you have survived them all,” Kaze said.
The excitement in the household had died down. Enomoto had doubled the guards patrolling outside the house and this presented a small annoyance, but not an obstacle, to Kaze’s slipping away from the villa to go to the place on the grounds that he had spotted earlier.
He had taken the trouble to get a wooden spade from the shed where the gardener stored his tools, and in the pale moonlight it was easy to get back to the location he sought. He squatted for a moment, looking at the ground in the faint light with a hunter’s eye. It was definitely disturbed, but its appearance troubled him because it didn’t look fresh. He stood and stuck the spade in the ground.
The ground had settled, but it was relatively easy to dig. He had only gone down a few hand spans when the square nose of the spade struck something.
Kaze got to his knees and cleared away the dirt at the bottom of the hole with his hands. In the flat silver moonlight, gleaming white bones started emerging from the dark soil.
CHAPTER 21
Honor. Trust. Duty.
All are fragile soap bubbles,
popped too easily.
Enomoto stood before the straw practice dummy, focusing his energy on his blade. As a samurai, Enomoto had the right to commit “practice murder” or “sword-testing killing.” He could cut down a heimin, a commoner, for the simple pleasure of trying his blade on a living body. In practice, a samurai who indulged this right too often soon got a bad reputation. Killing too many peasants could hurt rice production.
To avoid this, some samurai tested their blades on the corpses of criminals. Others indulged themselves only when some real or imagined slight gave them justification for cutting down a heimin, especially if they were away from their home prefecture. Still others, like Enomoto, used straw dummies to practice their cuts.
Enomoto brought the blade up over his head, then returned it to the point-at-the-eye position. The polished blade stretched before him, a slightly curved piece of steel less than three shaku long that represented all that Enomoto still believed in. His sword was the one constant in an ever-changing world.
Like most samurai boys, Enomoto was given his first sword before he was five years old. This mamori-gatana, or charm sword, was worn until Enomoto’s gempuku, the ceremony that marked his entry into manhood, when he was given his first real sword and his first armor and had his hair dressed in an adult style for the first time.
As a young man, Enomoto dedicated himself to the sword. Early on, Enomoto realized that he had exceptional talent with the katana. Other boys looked clumsy and awkward when practicing their cuts, but to Enomoto using the katana seemed natural and easy. This caused him to redouble his efforts to master its use. He found a Sensei who would train him and then he practiced what the Sensei taught him for endless hours. Soon the sword was an extension of his body and, eventually, it became an extension of his spirit.