Leader of the band
1539, Kozuke
Standing on the engawa which overlooked an unimpressive garden,
the ronin Itagaki Munetsura could see the tip of the pagoda to the
Jodo Buddhist temple above the thicket of trees in the distance. A
small, dirt path, rising and falling with the hilly landscape, led
from the downtrodden inn he was staying at towards it. However, blood
was gushing from a deep sword wound to his leg, the life force
staining his green kimono and quickly forming a dark red pool at his
feet. Munetsura doubted if he could make it to the temple. Now that
he was not caught up in the chaotic tide of the melee that had just
taken place, the pain in his leg shuddered throughout his entire
body. Munetsura grinned, despite the throbing in his leg and the
sick, tired feeling one gets from too much blood loss. Those
spineless dogs. They died just as they fought: as cowards. That was
the only satisfaction Munetsura could gain from this though, the
justice one felt after sending insolent, ungrateful fools to their
death. But now he would die because of these traitorous bastards.
They had outnumbered him four to one, and though he was skilled with
the katana, rarely ever coming across one as proficient as himself in
its use, he knew he was not the greatest of the land. And they came
at him at night while he slept with one specific purpose: to kill him
and take the money they had stolen from the merchant caravan outside
of Yubiso a week ago. No doubt Chogasa had coerced them to do this.
After himself, Chogasa was the one the group of bandits feared most.
The whole lot of them, if threatend or promised with riches, would
run like jabbering buffoons into the pits of Yomotsu no Kami. For a
while he sensed Chogasa had wanted himself out of the picture. He was
full of himself and also ronin, and expected the treatment Munetsura
himself recieved from the others. Munetsura cursed himself for not
expecting Chogasa to try to take advantage of the events that took
place in the heist. Limping weakly down from the engawa, drops of
blood leaving a splattered trail behind him, Munetsura's grin became
wider when he remembered how he had split Chogasa's skull open like a
ripe melon. As he struggled down the path, Munetsura's mind raced.
To concentrate it, he thought over how these events came to place.
All had gone well with the heist. Munetsura's contact in the city
of Yubiso, after a few cases of sake and a handful of Zeni in his
hands, finally gave the time of the next incoming caravan, what it
would be carrying, and how many guards to expect. Usually Munetsura
would not trust this particular contact, even drunk, but he had no
choice. So he set to planning an ambush that not even his lot of
rabble could not even mess up. They went over what they would do if
things went the way Munetsura expected and the options they had if
things did not. And they did this again and again, until each man
knew his job. When the caravan came rumbling up the road, the dirt
being kicked up by the feet of those walking and oxen and swirling
about in a cloud of yellow, Munetsura and his men lay their ambush.
Even though there were only six of them to the twelve guards, his men
fought with a tenacity the mercenaries did not possess. Along with
this, they were suprised. Within minutes the skirmish was over. Nine
of the twelve mercenaries lay either dead on the ground or were
mortally wounded. Three others ran at the outset of the fight. One
of the merchants, his orange kimono made of rich silk, a wise man
about the age of Munetsura himself, somewhere in his thirities, was
possesed with no desperation to meet his anscetors. Sweat pouring
down his forehead, beading up in his moustache, the merchant, with
what calm he could muster, picked himself off the ground where he lay
cowering like a beat dog, shakily walked towards Munetsura.
"Whatever we have, please, take it, just do not --" Before the
bonge could finish his sentence he was stabbed in the side with a
spear by one of the bandits, Toki. The man let out a whimper and
looked at Munetsura with both shock and pain. As their eyes met and
held each other, Munetsura felt sympathy for the dying merchant as he
lay in his pool of blood and the cries of his wife and daughters
could be heard. This man had done these men no wrong and probably
thought earlier today he would soon arrive at his wealthy estate, to
eat dinner with his wife and children and maybe later retire to
recite poetry or play his Gengakki. Now he would die. His family
might be killed, or even worse, violated by these men. Munetsura
bristled with anger. Karma was karma. Men died because life was not
fair. But Toki did not have to complicate matters. Most likely they
would all now have to leave the province because soon they would be
wanted men. One did not murder a wealthy merchant and get away with
it, buke or not. Muntesura muttered a curse and in his gutteral
voice, shouted orders at his men. When the wagons were emptied of
all the valuables that Munetsura thought he could sell illegally, the
witnesses were dispatched of, Munetsura had the band stop to rest and
appraise in full what they had taken. There was a case of chanoyu,
noodle and rice bowls, plus other cooking and kitchen instruments,
along with other items of average make. The caravan was carrying more
expensive goods, but Munetsura had learned long ago that the more
pricey the items were the harder they were to find a buyer. It was
best to have a large load of sturdy items that could be sold in bulk
- though not so much as to weigh them down. While sitting about in
the copse where they had stopped to rest, Munetsura silently glared
from one member of the group to the next. It was night, and the men
went about their business like silent shadows.
They were all ashigaru, except for Chogasa and himself. There was
Giichi, lazily heating rice in his jingasa over the fire that was
burning. Giichi is a coward like the rest, and like the rest, ruled
through fear. The illiterate fool did well today though. He is good
enough with a yari. I wonder how long he will live this life.
Probably until he is killed - when he is stabbed in the back by one
of his so-called friends or perhaps when he is caught and executed.
The thought of being executed made Munetsura shudder. He was thankful
he was samurai and allowed to commit seppuka. Next, Munetsura
looked over at young Kaemon, who lay on his back next to the fire,
eyes closed. Of all the men who made up this motly group, he liked
Kaemon the most. He was handsome youth and not yet tainted by the
hardships of life, though after today he would certainly have a stain
in his memory that no soap could wash away. If you are smart Kaemon,
you will take your portion of money from this and go join a clan
somewhere, or become a farmer. Following this trail, Muntesura
looked at Chogasa. Once he would have felt pride when looking upon
Chogasa. He had taught the younger ronin almost all he knew with the
katana and Munetsura at times looked upon him like a brother,
although an insolent one. Three years ago he had led four units of
yari samurai into heated battle at Sendano, in Bitchu, under the flag
of Enami Kazuyori. One of the men in his unit was Chogasa, a young,
brave, but head strong samurai. Many times during that battle,
Chogasa, like the many other of the men, threatend to break rank
while the calvary of Nagao Tamekage charged and then retreated. They
were serving as a backbone as part of a large body of spearmen that
protected the left flank of the main army of their Lord. When it
appeared that the tides finally changed in their favor and the
horsemen seemed to surge towards to help their losing comrades,
Chogasa and many of the men broke rank and ran to join in the
slaughter. It was only a trick and the horsemen galloped back, in
triangle formation to shatter the loose formation of the spearmen.
Somehow he was able to get the rest of his men into a tight
formation. As Nagao's men rode in, Munetsura's solidiers readied
themselves and withstood the onslaught. Help came, and soon the
auxilary force of calvary men were overwhelmed. Yelling a battle cry,
Munetsura and his men leaped into the fray. During the battle he took
many heads. Nagao Tamekage's army was hopelessly defeated. His own
head was soon lifelessly propped on a pike and those who could,
rejoiced. Ahhh, Munetsura sighed. And than I found you lying on the
ground, half dead, Chogasa. I should have left you there for the
vultures to pick at your worthless corpse, but I felt sorry for you.
Overcome with glory, you broke ranks and found the sting of a blade.
I brought you back to camp and mended your wounds myself. And than we
fought many more battles together, us both gaining prestige. I taught
you how to hold your own with a katana, even how to lead men. When we
were disbanded together we became bandits together, like brothers.
But this is how you treat me? Always complaining to the other men
about how badly I treat them, when in fact I should be more harsh on
their mistakes. I know you are planning something. I will give you an
excuse to challenge me and than paint the ground with your blood.
From Chogasa, Munetsura looked to Riki and his brother twin brother
Taki playing Han-cho. Not only in their ugly looks were they
identical, but in their stupidity. Drawing in a deep breath,
Munetsura rose, his thick, powerful legs carrying him towards them.
"Ah, Munetsura-sama! Have you come to lose your earnings from today?"
Riki, a scrawny, pocked marked man in his thirties, smiled up almost
toothlessly at Munetsura. Standing, the two were the same height. But
while Riki and his brother were as thin as bamboo rods, Munetsura was
a stocky man, powerfully built. Beneath his black beard, his throat
muscles moved in agitation. In a silver flash, Munetsura unsheathed
his katana and lopped Taki's head in one beautiful swipe. His body
shivered, slumped to the ground, and blood rushed from the severed
neck. Riki's face did not yet set in anguish. Still in his kneeling
position, the dic in his calloused palm, blood smattered on his face,
he looked blankly at his dead brothers face, which looked back at him
with the smile that it wore only a second ago. Munetsura waited for
the rest of the camp to become aware of what just happend. When he
saw he had their attention; Chogasa had his sword out already, he
turned to them, one eye warily resting on Riki just in case he did
something rash. In a stern, cool voice, Munetsura spoke: "That is for
disobeying me. We were not to kill any of the merchants or their
family. But now, because of Taki's rash actions, we will have to
leave the province and thus find new contacts to find out the
schedules of the caravans and others to sell our stolen goods too. If
anyone else again decides to forget so conviently what I tell them to
do, I shall kill them too." Bending over, Munetsura whiped his blade
clean on Taki's shirt. "We will be leaving before dawn tomorrow
towards Echigo and than to Dewa. Rumour has it that bandits are
finding easy pickings there. Are there any objections?" When Chogasa
was about to say something, Munetsura looked at him expectantly, his
hand resting on the hilt of his katana, which he had just sheathed.
Chogasa said nothing, nor did anyone else protest.
Content, Itagaki Munetsura, ronin, capable with a sword, but even
more so with his underlings, went to sleep. Early the next day he
woke with the rest and they headed towards Echigo. Travel to Echigo
took a week. By the time they had reached the small village with the
inn, they were all tired from the rigorous pace Munetsura had set. No
one had complained, though they all wore a sulky demeanor on their
faces as they traveled. Riki was yet to burst out in rage and attack
him for what he had done to his brother, which Munetsura did not
like. Luckily, the weather had held up, a suprising thing in the
month of Yayoi. Passing a small bridge above a stream where the fish
darted to and fro, Munetsura thought back to the time he was running
from the Kodama family, but quickly pushed that painful memory into
the back of his head. He remembered that the owner of the inn, a sly
fellow who would probably feign never having met Munetsura before,
owed him a favour or two. They would be allowed to stay for as many
nights as they needed, as was reasonable until too many people became
curious and they had to move on. Of course, they would have to pay.
During dinner, after Munetsura had to knock some sense into the owner
of the inn - as he guessed, the man pretended to have never laid eyes
on Munetsura and requested in a humble fashion that the group leave
his abode - the men sat themselves down to eat makizushi. He himself
treated himself to awabi and tosani. It was only possible because he
had taken a bigger share from the earnings than usual. In a rush to
sell the goods as quickly as possible and to be away from Kozuke, he
was in all to much of a hurry to find someone to buy, no matter the
price they offered. So they got a bad deal. Munetsura was convinced
it wasn't his fault, so he took the amount he usually would take. It
was his first mistake. His second was when the three men, Chogasa,
Riki, and Giiki, came over to sit beside him - a rarity - and offered
him sake and thanked him for giving them such a fair portion of the
earnings. Munetsura thought the emotions they displayed truly
genuine. As he got drunk on sake, he failed to notice the
apprehension of Kaemon. That night when he woke up from his deep
slumber, his body heavy with the effects of sake, Munetsura heard the
shuffling of feet and voices hushed, but tinted with anxiety. His
mind was working slowly, but before the shoji was ripped apart, with
Riki, wazikashi in the air, came running in with Chogasa and Giiki
following, he was standing, ready to draw his scabbarded katana.
"Aaaayyyee!" Riki yelled, his face a scene where both anger, fear,
and exhilaration played out. Munetsura was lucky that Riki was not
skilled with the short sword, or he would have found himself dead.
But Riki's slash was off target and Munetsura leaped to the right,
the blade of his wazikashi drawn with a hiss. Before he could attack
the off-balance Riki, though, Chogasa thrusted at him with his
katana. In such small space the katana would prove useless. An errant
swipe by Chogasa could just as easily take out Riki or Giiki as
Munetsura. Munetsura stepped back and to his left, just barely
avoiding being run through, and cutting a deep red line in Riki's
neck. With a gurgle, he joined his brother in death. As a bead of
sweat formed on his forehead, Munetsura looked quickly from Chogasa
to Giiki. They both had cut off his exit, and now, the only way out
was to leap down three stories to the garden within the inn. None of
them bothered to speak to each other. Everyone knew what was being
done and why. Munetsura cursed. He hoped the inn owner was still
alive. Probably not though. Chogasa was not dumb. It seemed as
though there was miscommunication between Chogasa and Giiki though.
Neither were sure who was going to attack. They had not planned on
Munetsura being awake and fighting back. Now with Riki dead on the
floor, a bubble of blood on the dead man's mouth about to pop, the
two scoundrels were realizing this would not be easy. Chogasa,
sensing Giikis indecision, stepped foward and made an attack to
measure up Munetsura and see where his opponent could manuever. In a
sense, Chogasa had the advantage here. Not only was he younger and
quicker, but he had another man on his side. But Munetsura was not
going to give up without them dying along with him. With a scream, he
ran for the sliding doors that led to the inner verandah of the inn.
Giiki made a dash for him, his spear poised for the kill. When he
realized this was only a feint, it was too late to react. Munetsura
stepped to the side of the incoming spear, and plunged his wazikashi
into Giiki's abdomen. As the man slumped into him, the ronin took his
wazikashi and threw it at the charging Chogasa. Chogasa barely
dodged the flying knife. "Fight with honor old man! Or are you scared
of me?" Chogasa shouted in frustration. Munetsura, back to the
wall, his katana now in his grip, glared back at his former ally.
"You call coming in at night with three men to kill me honorable?"
Chogasa scowled and leapt at him, attempting a killing blow. It was
deflected and a flurry of attacks were exchanged. As they broke
apart, Munetsura asked, "What about the innkeeper? Do you not think
he will come to investigate?" "Hah! You are all alone, Munetsura,
all alone." So that answered that question. "And now that Riki and
Giiki are dead, who are you going to work with? Kaemon? Ha!" Chogasa
didn't think about that. It struck him that IF he survived this, he
would have to find another group to join, unless he planned to
recruit. "There are the bandits in Dewa! I will find many who will be
willing to follow someone who is as fair and just as myself. We were
sick of your brutality." Munetsura smiled. "I lied about Dewa. The
bandits there are having as much trouble living as we are." "You
lie!" Chogasa spat. "I'm am going to enjoy listening to you squeal
like a pig!" With that sparks flew as their two blades joined
together. Chogasa slashed at Munetsura's midsection, but his blade
was cast aside and they came together, gripping one another.
Outweighing his opponent, Munetsura threw Chogasa off balance and
sent him sprawling. Munetsura moved in for the kill, but a sharp,
unexpected pain erupted in his leg. As he looked down at his right
thigh, a yari was stuck through it. Giiki, with his last energy
flowing from his stomach, had crawled over and stabbed Munetsura. It
was over, Chogasa thought. Exultant, he charged foward, katana held
over his head, ready for the killing blow. Ahhh... forever
charging... Munetsura thought. Holding his own blade over his head,
he directed the little light that came into the room off his blade,
shining into Chogasa's eyes, making him flinch for just the split
second he neeed. Sword play was all about timing.
Shhhhhhhwwwooooopp! It took a long time for Munetsura to unattach the
blade from Chogasa's skull. It took even longer to pull the shaft of
the yari from his leg. So this is karma, Itagaki Munetsura thought.
To die from a wound to the leg inflicted by a worthless man. At least
I showed that insolent bastard, Chogasa. Oh, I cannot die like this!
Death, I do not cower from you. But why now? Why not in true battle,
serving a worthy Lord? With that, he slumped over. His eyes, bleary,
tear stained, last saw Kaemon standing above him.