Yasushi Inoue - The Samurai Banner of Furin Kazan

After exchanging a few thrusts and parries of the sword, Daizen was to disappear into the forest nearby.

Daizen looked around in the near darkness. He knew that somewhere nearby the crooked eyes of Kansuke were watching as well.

Daizen could not keep silent for such a long time.

“Hey you, deformed bastard! Kansuke!” he whispered loudly and listened carefully. There was no answer. He clicked his tongue in exasperation and squatted on the ground.

Another hour passed. The darkness around him made him feel aggressive. “I wish that thieves or wild dogs would appear, then I could kill them!” he thought with mounting frustration.

Then, he heard quiet footsteps approaching from the hill. As the footsteps neared, he discovered that there was more than one person. As they advanced, it appeared that there were three people.

“Saeki Mondo!” Daizen called out to the group, which was passing in front of him. Of course, the name he called was not someone in the group. It was nothing more than a fabrication.

The footsteps stopped instantly.

“There is nobody here called Saeki,” answered one of them.

“There is no use telling a lie! I came all the way here to take your life!” Daizen shouted with annoyance.

“What is the use of telling a lie!” the man answered, but Daizen suddenly drew his sword. Perceiving the move, the three men jumped back swiftly.

“Wait! We don’t appreciate your mistake. I am a vassal of the Takeda Clan; Itagaki is my name.”

It was a voice filled with dignity. It was truly Itagaki, Daizen thought.

“I don’t really care who you are, I shall take your life, anyway,” Daizen yelled out.

“A thief!” Instantly Itagaki whipped out his sword. In no time two white blades were in front of Daizen. Further behind the two swords, he heard the dignified voice again.

“Be careful! Just drive him away!”

When Daizen realized that these two were not Itagaki himself, he leaped forward and slashed one of the samurai’s shoulders.

The samurai screamed. Daizen jumped away at once, but he immediately lunged forward again and slashed the other samurai’s leg. Again, a shriek of pain was heard.

The next moment Itagaki himself struck in silence. As they crossed swords several times, Daizen could hear his opponent’s heavy breathing.

“You must have been mistaken. I am a vassal of the Takeda, Itagaki Nobukata.” The opponent repeated again. Daizen kept silent. “Are you a thief?”

Daizen was thinking about what he should do with this opponent, whom he was not supposed to kill, as he closed the distance between them. Then, Itagaki stepped forward. He definitely excelled with the sword. It was quite obvious that he was much better than the two previous swordsmen. Daizen advanced close to Itagaki’s chest, grabbed his opponent’s right arm, and pushed him slowly to the side of the road.

“Who is it?”

Suddenly a lantern shone right into Daizen’s face from the side. For the first time Daizen realized that he was pushing his opponent against a clay wall. From the time Daizen heard the chief vassal’s voice, he had thought that this person was old, but he was younger than expected. He was a middle-aged samurai.

“I was attacked by a thief and I am having a little trouble dispatching him.” Itagaki answered quickly.

“I shall offer you help!”

Clearly it was the voice of Kansuke. Daizen let go of Itagaki’s arm and swiftly jumped backward. “Now this is where the plot begins,” he thought.

Then a swift blow of the daito 14came down on him from directly in front of him. Instantly he jumped back with a slight “Ah!” sound and stumbled backwards onto a stone.

The second and third attack followed ruthlessly. It was no longer a trick; Daizen felt a thirst for the blood of his opponent well up inside of him. This was not part of the plan! Daizen forced himself to get up, as he tumbled down the slope. He must have been cut between his eyes; he could feel the blood in them.

But there was no time to wipe it away.

“Kansuke!” Daizen yelled out and ran into the bushes.

According to the plan Kansuke’s chase was supposed to stop there.

When he turned around, his opponent’s sword was poised near him. And this sword relentlessly followed him everywhere he went.

“Are you mad?!” Daizen yelled out.

“No, I am not mad,” the low voice continued, “I shall kill you.”

“Try!” Daizen yelled, feeling that the situation had changed.

His opponent was determined to kill him. I have to kill him too!

His hatred toward this crippled ronin increased ten fold.

But for the first time in his life, Daizen felt something approaching fear. His opponent’s sword remained in a surprisingly low position. The small man’s sword was almost touching the ground. When the crooked eyes fixed him, Daizen could neither move ahead nor back. The distance between the two closed gradually. Daizen felt as if he was glued to the ground. His opponent’s sword flashed in the dim light. Instantly, his shoulder was cut open, then his right wrist and then his legs. Daizen was covered in blood “Wait! Please wait!” Daizen yelled desperately. But it was as if he were talking to a wall. No matter how much he shouted, his opponent’s sword just kept on attacking.

Daizen felt as if Kansuke’s body was growing while his own large body was shrinking and becoming ugly. Indeed Daizen’s remaining eye was becoming useless, and his leg was crippled.

“Uh!” was the last sound he uttered as he was cut in half from his shoulder to his hip.

IT WAS MID-FEBRUARY in the twelfth year of Tenbun when the messenger from the Takeda family of Kai came to Yamamoto Kansuke in Sunpu to request his service. One and a half years had passed since Yamamoto Kansuke had killed the unknown ronin Aoki Daizen and helped the vassal of the Takeda, Itagaki Nobukata. According to the messenger, the Takeda family requested his service and offered a stipend of one hundred kan . 15

Kansuke sent back the messenger replying that he would like to think about it for two days.

That day, contrary to his routine, Kansuke left his house.

Early cherry blossoms had started to bloom along the banks of the Abe River.

“Capturing castles, capturing castles,” Kansuke repeated the same words in his mind for quite a long time. A stipend of a hundred kan! It was not really important how much he received.

The point was whether he could participate in planning the strategy for battle formation and whether he could demonstrate his talent for capturing castles and territories. Before accepting this offer of service, he had to extract a condition.

“Capturing castles, capturing castles.”

Kansuke walked through the lane of cherry trees without even once looking up at the blossoms. Two women, most likely samurai wives, accompanied by two children, came from the opposite end of the street. When they saw Kansuke, they avoided him with evident fear.

“Capturing castles, capturing castles.”

Without glancing at the women, he proceeded, turning up his eyes and staring at nothing. Every time he stepped with his right leg his body leaned heavily to that side.

The laneway entered the center road of Sunpu. The residence of his protector, chief retainer of the Imagawa, was at the entrance to the samurai residential quarter. Since keyaki 16trees surrounded the residence, people in the castle town called his residence “Keyaki Mansion.”

Kansuke entered the main entrance of Keyaki Mansion.

Without announcing his arrival, he set his foot on the fumidai . 17