Ten days from the Scorpion border, Ninube Tenzo made camp on a flat hilltop. He sat upon his bundle of clothes, his leg sprawling between the small fire. As he gently stirred the fire, the smell of cloth burning tinged the nigh air, the Crane mon twisted in the darting flames. The burning silk stirred his private memories, he recalled the night he burned his black ninja garb. The image of his ninja gear being burned to black ashes forever seared within his mind. Tenzo will always remember how the flames devoured the black kimono, its shadowy thread twisting in fiery flames. The smoke and fire awoke in him the memories of his days of danger and death, of the deadly initiation into the Way of Shadow. And so, as he lay back and slept beneath the night sky, he dreamt of the Hell that all ninja went through . . . the Gauntlet.

* * * * *

The Ninube ninja threw the grappling hook over the wall and quickly climbed up. Leaping down, he rolled into the shadows. The shades from the cherry blossom trees shrouded his swift, silent movement. Agile and deft, he climbed up a tree, and chose his hiding place, crouching high upon a limb. The full bloom of the cherry blossoms concealed his small figure within the pale night. From his concealment, he watched the licentious daimyo entertaining with a young, beautiful geisha. He scanned the entire courtyard as he observed his ninja brethren gathering in the shadows.

Three samurai stood on guard as a single servant attended to the needs of their master. A faint wind blew in from the cool night, carried the soft scent of the cherry blossoms from the garden. From the shadows, their Shosuro sensei shouted the command, “ Niwatori!”

Three Shosuro apprentices immediately appeared out of nowhere, attacking the guards with smoke bombs and shuriken. The beautiful but inexperienced gheisha fainted into her lord’s lap. The attentive servant rushed to his master’s side helping him get away. Meanwhile, the samurai responded to the deadly threat clad in black. The samurai slashed at the shadows as the black-garbed assassins feinted with their ninja-to. Loud cries for help are muffled by the sounds of exploding nageteppo, and the clash of shuriken striking armour.

Two more Shosuro apprentices joined their black-clad brethren dancing in the moonlight. It was a fantastic display of acrobatics, their shadows danced in the courtyard as they escaped capture. Confusion exploded across the garden courtyard as more egg grenades and shuriken were thrown. Choking clouds of noxious fumes filled the courtyard. As the three samurai chased the five elusive black-garbed ninja, the servant escorted their master to safety. And from the treetop, a ninja smile behind his mask as he looked down upon the chaos. Cherry blossoms flew into the night as the Ninube ninja leapt from his perch.

Sliding open the door, the loyal servant assisted his master through the doorway. He urged his master to flee as he swore to defend the doorway with his life. The daimyo touched by such display of loyalty, drew his family katana, and offered it hilt first to his loyal servant. With the acceptance to the ancient blade, the servant’s eyes turned cold and his mask of loyalty cracked with a sinister smile. The daimyo’s eyes widen in surprise as the wine abruptly drained from his head. But his realization came too late. The servant thrust the sword deep into his master’s heart and whispered, “You’ll never know why.”

Pulling the sword free from his dead master, the servant turned to find the Ninube ninja waiting behind him. The servant tossed the katana through the night air, and grinned wickedly. Quickly, the servant disappeared into the dark corridors screaming of his master death at the hands of a ninja. The Ninube ninja stepped up and severed the head and hands of the dead daiymo. From the corridors, guards approached.

He quickly gathered his trophies in a black wrap, and slipped quietly into the waiting shadows. The loyal servant led the guards into a scene of death and disarray. He knelt before his master’s dead body and wept sincerely. The three samurai returned, their armour smelled foul and appeared ruined.

Their eyes downcast, the putrid odor of smoke could not compared to the reek of their shame. As one, the three samurai cast away their swords and drew their wakizashi. Only their blood could wash away the stink of their shame. Three pools of blood joined the one made by their dead master. The loyal servant hid his smile behind tears as he watched the guards searched the empty garden for the black-clad assassins. But there was only blood and confusion beneath the dim light of the moon.

Having fled far into the night, the ninja gathered in an abandoned temple. The Shosuro apprentices stood at either side as the Ninube ninja approached their sensei. He swiftly unwrapped the bundle and lay out the severed head and hands upon the ground. The ninja youth knelt before his sensei and bowed respectfully. The stench of death filled the dusty atmosphere of the crumbling temple. The night was quiet as moonlight filtered through the cracks in the roof.

The Shosuro sensei spoke softly, “From this night forth, you will no longer be required to wear your ninja gear. You have earned that privilege, you have survived the Gaunlet.”

The Ninube ninja smiled, and responded respectfully, “Thank you, Sensei.”

“Thank me later,” The Shosuro laughed hoarsely, her laughter filled the musk night air, “That is, if you don’t drown.”

The Ninube ninja looked up, his eyes glinted deep blue in the moonlight, and stated firmly, “I can swim.”

* * * * *

Ten days from the Scorpion border, Ninube Tenzo woke and rose with the rising dawn, as he stretched his arms his shadow reached out to the bottom of the hill. He ate briskly and dressed swiftly. His keen eyes scanned the horizon, he smiled, and assumed good cheer. Tenzo checked to make sure the campfire had completely burned out, and quickly gathered his personal belongings. Gone was the mon of the Crane; in its place, the mon of the Scorpion. It was the mon of the Bayushi family, a scorpion surrounded by water accompanied by the kanji, “I can swim.”