Ministry Protocol: Thrilling Tales of the Ministry of Peculiar Occurrences
Page 64
The Clockwork Samurai
By Jack Mangan
Otisburgh, Vancouver
British Columbia, Canada
1891
The Samurai knelt on the Canadian hilltop, blade pressed against his stomach. His breathing was relaxed and measured, even as the nearby ironwood tree shuddered in the pre-dawn breeze. Kuro stood over him, ready to fulfil his duties as second, fitting his katana into the grip of his brass right hand. The Pacific spoke softly in the distance.
“Lead with your left,” the kneeling man said, the cold vapour of his breath billowing with each word. “I want you to feel this as much as possible.”
“Hideo—”
“I am enamoured of the beauty of the stars, filling the sky like grains of sand on a black beach. Yet even now, the tide of dawn washes them away into the coming light. I shall step into those waves and allow the sea to carry me with honour into eternity.” Hideo’s voice was calm and resolute. “Were you not so enamoured of that light-haired American woman, you would sit beside me, Kuro, to perform the last noble act of your life.” He inclined his head toward the scaffold tower of their keep, visible over the ridge to the south.
“Miss Beverly is a fine swordsman. Swordswoman. Nothing more to me.” Kuro felt his face redden. He tried to match Hideo’s stillness, but his voice wavered in the cold breeze. “We obeyed Master Ueda’s final order, before he committed seppuku. We have remained Samurai in this foreign land, continuing our ancient ways without persecution, serving under Master Toranaga for the noble House of Usher. There is no dishonour in the paths we have chosen, Hideo-san. Would you have preferred to become one of Emperor Meiji’s bureaucrats?”
“Toranaga was a good man,” Hideo agreed. “Since his death, we have taken orders from the barbarian, Scharnusser. There is no honour in kidnapping children.”
Kuro made no reply, only recalled the fear in the seven-year-old boy’s face as the Usher Samurai had stolen upon him on his father’s island beach. Kuro still saw the terrified question in his eyes as he’d been bound and boarded into the shadow zeppelin.
Hideo sucked his breath in sharply, dimpling his exposed belly with his blade. The first golden crest of light appeared above the eastern hills. Far from his home, Hideo gazed a final time upon the rising sun.
Kuro raised his brass right forearm, adjusted the sword hilt in his left hand.