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.
CHAPTER 14
The wind in my face.
The horse in fluid motion.
Freedom on four hooves.
Yoshida 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.
Outrageous!” 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!”