by James Harden
Musashi
Miyamoto Musashi was led outside his room by the young servant and was confronted by a large Samurai dressed in full battle armor. Musashi stopped dead in his tracks.
“For your protection,” explained the young servant. “He is Lord Sato’s best man.”
Musashi shot the servant a worried look. “I didn't realize I was in any danger.”
“It’s merely a precaution,” the servant assured. “Now, if you’ll please follow me this way.”
Musashi looked at the guard. He stood upright with his shoulders back. He was taller than the door frame.
Lord Sato seemed to have put his entire residence on full alert. Musashi began to notice other servants rushing anxiously past them in the hallway.
An old woman bumped into him as she hurried down the hallway. “I'm so sorry,” she said as she bowed her head. “The Dark Shogun is coming. And the Immortals,” she whispered, “They are here.”
The old woman had a fearful, crazed look in her eyes.
The young servant sent the old woman on her way. “Just ignore her. She's exaggerating. No one is here. The security of this residence is second to none. Now please, we must go.”
Musashi followed the servant escorted by the large guard. They walked down the hallway past more servants. All of them scattering about like rats fleeing a sinking ship. They ascended three flights of stairs and on every level the Samurai patrolled, dressed ready for battle, ready to fight whatever force would attempt to lay siege.
The house was in total lockdown. It’s guardians on high alert.
The piece of paper the young servant had given Musashi was still in his hand. He read it one more time.
Ito Isamu is dead. The Immortals have returned.
Again, Musashi did not believe what he read. Ito Isamu was a powerful Kensei Master. One of a handful who had chosen to live on after the Kensei order was outlawed by the Emperor.
How did he die?
The answer to this question was a frightening one. And one that Musashi did not fully understand.
Musashi had only heard about the Immortals through stories told by the Kensei Elders. The old warriors would rant on about wars that raged for centuries without end, wars between the Kensei and the Immortals.
Musashi had always thought the stories were made up to scare little children. Ghost stories about five Immortal Demons, each with their own unique powers and preferred method of killing. They were stories that were no doubt exaggerated each time they were told. But maybe this wasn’t the case.
Musashi decided to make small talk in an attempt to calm his nerves.“So, what's your name?” Musashi asked the servant.
“Shinji.”
“Nice to meet you, Shinji. Mind telling me where we are going?”
“The observation room. It has excellent views of the surrounding terrain. It's where Lord Sato plans all of his strategic maneuvers.”
Strategic Maneuvers?
It sounded like Lord Sato was preparing for battle.
The trio arrived at a large sliding door. The servant promptly slid it open and then fell to his knees, his face pressed against the floor. Musashi bowed deeply.
Inside the observation room, Lord Sato Okinaga was pacing back and forth surrounded by a dozen of fierce looking Samurai. One of them was trying to explain something that sounded like a plan of attack but Okinaga ignored him.
The guard that had escorted Musashi stepped forward and reported. “Lord Sato, we have delivered Miyamoto Musashi as requested.”
Lord Sato stopped pacing and looked up. He was an intimidating man, strong, decisive and a cunning leader. He earned the respect of his Samurai through leading by example. He was renowned for his exploits on the battlefield. Tonight however, he looked noticeably spooked. His eyes, usually sharp, were full of indecision. At the moment he was dressed in his full battle armor. He carried his Katana and Wakizashi - short sword, at his side. His left hand rested on them as he strode towards Musashi.
“Welcome Musashi,” he announced in a deep authoritative voice that hid his fear well. “I trust you have read the note my servant delivered to you.”
Musashi bowed again. “I have Lord Sato, although I fail to see why this concerns me?”
“You must understand,” Okinaga said, his tone becoming serious. “This concerns all of us.”
Musashi wasn’t buying it. He refused to believe a note that mentioned a mythical clan of demonic Ninja was real. He refused to believe Isamu was dead. He decided to get to the bottom of this right now. “The message, I have some reservations about its authenticity. May I ask who delivered it?”
“The message,” Okinaga said, pausing to emphasize the importance of the matter, “was delivered by Ito Isamu himself.”
