Echoes of a Shattered Age (13 page)

Chapter Nineteen

A few hours before nightfall, the samurai and his ninja sister came upon the village of Toyotomi. It was large for a village; almost a city, in fact. A brick wall ran the perimeter, giving at least some protection from outside elements. The main entrance was enclosed by a tall, narrow gate slightly higher than the wall itself, and was flanked by two statuesque guards.

Akemi sniggered at the two men. Their armor was well-crafted and brightly colored steel that looked to have never seen an instant of battle. The vests were embroidered with gold and bright green trim, while the pants were also gold with green trim and edged with black at the seams.

Thick strips of leather lined with bright silver studs covered their armored legs, and their boots were also lined in gold, green and black. Bulky, impractical, and altogether gaudy, the guards nevertheless wore their uniforms with pride and confidence. To her ninja sensibilities, Akemi found such synthetic use of color was unnecessary and dangerous. One could not easily conceal themselves in their surroundings with glittering burnished gold and silver shining from their body.

As they approached, the guards stiffened and took a step forward. The guard facing Akemi held a tall
naginata
. The shaft was made of strong, treated wood and was painted gold. The base of the shaft was made of iron and was blunt at the tip. The top of the weapon held a long thin blade that looked to be sharper than the wits of the man holding it.

The guard facing Kenjiro was armed with two katanas bearing gaudily embroidered hilts strapped to both sides of his waist. The stone-faced samurai moved up to face the guard, who met his gaze while slowly moving his hands to the hilts of his weapons.

Kenjiro almost laughed. Wielding two weapons was a skill that not every master possessed. He doubted this man could properly wield one of those shiny swords at his waist. Kenjiro judged that he could have the man disarmed in seconds.

“Do you greet every guest to your village in this manner?” The samurai asked, smiling.

Ignoring the sarcasm, the guard shifted his gaze to Akemi—mistake number one—and then back to him. “Where do you come from?” the guard demanded.

“A good distance from here,” Kenjiro answered. “We have been traveling for days now and seek rest within the walls of your kind village.”

The two guards glanced at each other—mistake number two—and back to the travelers. “You have not answered the question,” the other guard persisted. “Where do you come from?”

Kenjiro never shifted his gaze, but answered as non-threateningly as he could. “We have traveled from the far away Mount Yamanake, and would enjoy rest, more than banter.”

The guards were shocked at how far they had traveled. The siblings could see the question in their eyes. Why had they come so far, and why stop here in this small village when Kyokoza was not far?

Akemi could see the skepticism plaguing the guards and attempted to ease the tension. “As my brother has said, we are tired travelers who wish to stop in your kind home to rest and buy supplies before moving on our way. We mean not to stay long.”

The guard frowned down at her. “Where is your destination?”

“That is not your concern,” the samurai shot back, but Akemi raised her hand and continued.

“We travel to the city of Kyokoza,” she answered. “The city is not very far from here,” the guard replied skeptically. “Why not press forward and not delay?”

“Why not rest and be better prepared for the duration of our trip by stopping in a village that lies between us and our destination?” Akemi countered.

“If it is supplies you wish to acquire, it can be arranged for them to be brought to you here, including portable tents for you to set for camp.”

“Money that could be more appropriately used to buy more food and supplies instead of a tent that would be used temporarily,” the samurai replied in a low, dangerous tone. “You believe us to be a potential threat to your village. If our intentions were ill, your intestines would already be lying on the ground the instant your eyes left mine to look at your friend.”

At this bold statement, both guards took a ready stance, mistake number three. The guard facing Kenjiro reached to his katanas, but a flash of Kenjiro’s sword had them lying in the dirt to his sides.

Kenjiro shrugged. “My apologies. You looked uncomfortable wearing those fancy swords, so I took the liberty of disarming you.”

“We mean no trouble here,” Akemi said. “We wish only to rest, buy supplies, and move on. May we please seek shelter within your walls?”

With the humble request of the female traveler, and the other traveler’s obvious effort to conceal his nausea for his sister’s humbleness, the two guards grudgingly stepped aside and allowed the travelers to enter. Kenjiro noticed the pained look on the two men. They really had not much choice and they knew it. Kenjiro could have had one of them dead in an instant.

Akemi smiled and tipped her head to the guard and entered, followed by her irritated brother. “What happened to the gentle tolerance of
the samurai
?” she teased.

“I follow no lord,” her brother responded.

“And so that reduces you to a
ronin
bandit? What of Bushido and honor?”

“What of it?” the samurai quipped.

“Was that honorable, back there?”

“That was necessary,” Kenjiro answered. “And as far as the way of the ronin is concerned, perhaps I will educate you, but not today.”

“I look forward to it, brother,” Akemi said.

Kenjiro grunted.

* * *

Admiring the beautiful landscape of the constantly changing world, the two friends moved about the foliage and the open fields on a fast trek toward the city of Nijika. Riding on horseback gave them a much-welcomed rest after the trials they had faced while crossing through Korea and the race to the shores of Japan.

“Hey Ken,” Kita called from behind. “How far do you think we have until we reach this place?”

Kenyatta shrugged. “The man at Yamada who give us these horses say that it take a full day with their caravan. Witout the extra load and pushing straight tru, we should make it by night.”

“That’s fine by me,” Kita replied. “I’m wiped out. Besides, we can replenish our food and gear.”

At dusk, the travelers came to the front of the city of Nijika and stopped at a tree line sprinkled with large rocks. It was small for a city and surrounded by a wall over a dozen feet high. At the front stood two tall double doors made of solid iron, and flanked by four guards. At the edge of each end of the walls stood single watchtowers with two men in each.

The travelers looked at each other and back at the well-guarded city. They knew that the chances of talking their way into an obviously wary place were slim.

“I think we should consider slipping in,” Kita recommended. “The place doesn’t seem ready to welcome outsiders.”

“Looks paranoid,” Kenyatta agreed as he watched the guards. “We should wait for night, then slip in from one of the far ends away from the front.”

Kita nodded and they set camp, awaiting nightfall concealed in the trees.

* * *

Their search for a suitable inn brought the samurai and his sister to an old western-style tavern. The common room was spacious and open, furnished with western style wooden tables and chairs. Neither of the two warriors cared much for the place, but the location was prime because of its view of the rest of the village, and the proximity to the gates.

“I hope you are happy, sister,” Kenjiro remarked. “This place reeks of lust and the trifling existence of sheep being led by their day instead of leading it themselves.”

The young ninja shook her head and sighed. “Always the sharp observer. Let’s just enjoy our stay and rest. These people have no business with us, nor we with them.” She walked over to her brother and laid a hand on his shoulder, smiling like the devious little girl that had been such a challenge to keep out of trouble. His brow creased. Akemi laughed.

After securing their room, and arguing with Kenjiro about sharing a room for efficiency instead of having separate ones, Akemi put her hand on her stomach and prodded the samurai with an elbow. “Come, let’s see if this quaint little village has some decent food.”

With her brother in tow, the woman descended the stairs and filtered through the crowd toward the door. Although every man in the tavern moved aside and gaped as the soft and smooth material flowed across her seductive figure in a dance all its own, one pair of eyes seemed to concentrate intensely on the young warrior. Kenjiro sensed that they were being watched and was sure that his sister felt the same.

As they neared the door, a bulky man stepped out and barred their way. It was obvious to Akemi from the start that he could not be from anywhere local, as he was rotund and sloppy, and had on dirty denim pants and a leather vest that was too small for his girth.

He stood over six feet tall and seemed just as wide, and wore the scraggly beginnings of a beard, and had long greasy black hair tied behind his back. Underneath his vest was a tattoo that looked as if it wrapped across his chest to his back. The little she could see from the front was of a serpent preparing to swallow a smaller animal, of which kind Akemi was unsure. She stopped a few feet in front of the giant and eyed him. So crusty were his black denim pants that they looked as though they could stand on their own without the wearer. His black boots were surprisingly shiny and clean.

“You are a round one,” Akemi said. “Couldn’t find a shirt big enough to fit, hmm?”

The barrel-chested took a step forward. “Who you are?” he demanded in a ragged voice, and it surprised the ninja that he actually spoke her language, despite where he might be from. “None seen you here before and we don’t welcome strange ones like you passing in and out of here.”

“We are merely travelers passing through and not wanting any trouble.” She glanced over her shoulder at her brother, whose sword hand had gone very still. “If we may, please allow us to pass.”

The mountain of a man looked down on her and smirked. “Maybe your friend there won’t mind if I charge a price for your passage.”

“Name it,” Akemi agreed.

“You come to my room and …” he stopped short at the woman’s cold, smiling stare. The one behind her, who was not so subtle, was now gripping the hilt of his sword despite his casual stance.

“I would take careful consideration of my next words if I were you,” the woman cautioned. The fire that burned in her eyes and the happy tone in her voice were not lost on the big man. After a bit of consideration, he scanned the bar and noticed that every gaze in the tavern was fixed on the three of them.

“Quite a position you have created for yourself, my giant friend,” the ninja remarked. “You have a dilemma, don’t you? On one hand, you can stay there and we will cut you down like a boar. On the other hand, you can step aside and live, but with damaged status as the big tough boy in here.” She tapped her smooth, pointed chin and let out a half smile. “Decisions, decisions.”

Kenjiro glared up at the large man. “Step aside while you can still walk.”

At that ultimatum the giant man reached to his right and pulled what looked like a club from under his chair with a mighty swing. Spectators grabbed their drinks and cleared away to give the trio plenty of room. Before everyone had gotten a safe distance away, however, the round giant dropped to his knees and slumped over, clutching his groin as the two warriors stepped around him and out the door.

***

Chapter Twenty

Life began to stir in Nijika just before dawn. Because it was so large by the standards of a village, businesses had to be competitive just as in a larger city. The predawn blue of morning slowly brightened as the sun crested the mountains far to the east. The streets came alive as children scurried off to schools, and adults tended shops, perused the marketplace, and foreigners milled about.

Kenyatta stood on the balcony of their room and watched the place come to life. It reminded him of home and his life as a child with Grampa.

“You’re not gonna get all teary eyed on me, are you?” Kita said from across the room. Kenyatta glanced over his shoulder to see his friend chuckling as he slipped on a pair of sandy-colored moccasin-style shoes.

“Why don’t you find some business of your own and stay outta mine, ya?” Kenyatta shot back.

“Hey, easy now,” Kita laughed. “No harm meant, just joking.”

“Ya man, I’m knowin’ that. I’m kind of edgy today, that’s all. Last night my sister came to me.”

Kita’s eyes lit up. “What did you talk about?”

“Hmm.” Kenyatta eyed his friend suspiciously. “Looks like me gettin’ your undivided attention now, ya?”

Kenyatta sat down on the corner of his bed and ran his fingers through his shoulder-length locks. “She say she gonna visit us when we get to Kyokoza and that is where she’s going to deal with our weapons.”

“Ok,” Kita replied. “So why the distressed look? I would think that should be good news.” Kenyatta looked over at his friend from the window.

“She also said that she’s going to fill us in on what’s going on and that when we leave Kyokoza our mission will truly begin. She says that everything up to now was just a bit of training and was nothing compared to what’s ahead of us.”

At the sight of his friend gathering up a small pack and a few concealed weapons, Kenyatta raised an eyebrow. “Where are you planning on going?”

Kita smirked. “I don’t plan on missing the chance to mingle and enjoy our little stay before we take to the road again.”

Kenyatta’s mood brightened at the mention of fun. “Ya man, count me in.”

They strode through the streets of Nijika, buying supplies and gear, as well as a few trinkets that may or may not have possessed the properties the vendors claimed.

“Amazing how times have changed from when we were little,” Kita said. He eyed a piece of armor that was light and thin, but sturdy. The shop owner explained that it had been created from a new species of tree that had a smooth and flexible bark, but was also as tough as steel and resistant to harsh weather conditions. The best part about the process was that one tree could be used multiple times. The bark need only be stripped away during the summer months so that the tree would have time to grow more for the cold seasons.

“Hey, Ken,” Kita asked. “What do you think about this armor?”

Kenyatta inspected the unusual piece. It was flexible yet tough, as the shop owner had said. He turned it in his hands, marveling at the sturdiness of the material despite its wood origin. It would turn aside a blade as effectively as most armor, and so much lighter.

“Looks pretty good to me,” Kenyatta replied. “Strong, too. I tink it serve us much better than what we have now, and it's not too flashy either. Get one for me.”

While paying for their wares, Kita felt an odd vibe and glanced over his shoulder, but there was no one behind him. He stuffed their new armor in a sack the shop owner had given him and looked around. Kenyatta was busy bargaining over items in another shop.

Kita frowned and glanced over his right shoulder to accidentally make eye contact with the most out-of-place person in the city.

A beautiful woman seemed to glide across his path. Her presence was both overt and subtle at the same time. Her lips were thin and sharp and slanted in a half smile that hypnotized every male shopper she passed. Although she had an undeniable allure about her, Kita’s instincts warned that there was more to this woman than his eyes could see.

“C’mon man,” Kenyatta teased. “Why don’t ya jyas go tell her what you’re really tinkin’ and see if she don’t slap your face off your head.”

The woman stopped in front of them. “You are not from here,” she said in the native tongue of the land.

“You aren’t either,” Kita replied.

The woman offered a smile in response, then pointed west of the village. “I am from west of here, a very far place in the mountains.”

“What brings you so far from your homeland?” Kita asked.

“I have business to tend and people to seek.”

“Well,” Kita said politely, “I wish you luck.”

“You haven’t told me where you and your friend are from,” the woman persisted.

“I appreciate your interest, and your trust in me, but I cannot return it. It’s true, we are not from here, but our place of origin is of no importance either.”

“Only a warrior would be so aloof.”

“Perhaps,” was all Kita offered. “I think my friend and I should move on now. We have much to do and the day moves on.”

The woman smiled and tipped her head. “I’m sure we will meet again.”

“Perhaps.”

Throughout the conversation, Kenyatta felt a necessity to remain quiet and observe his unusually reserved friend. “Did I miss something back there?” he asked. Kita glanced at him.

“There was something about her that I couldn’t place. There was more there than I could see, but I’m not sure what.”

Kenyatta shrugged. “Maybe we’ll find out if we see her again.”

Kita nodded, but the thought of seeing that woman again put him on edge.

***