Assassin

My horse pounds up to the gate of Setsuna’s compound, it’s flanks slick with sweat and it’s chest covered in foam. The stallion wheezes unhealthily, as I leap from the saddle, and stumble into the circle of light created by the watch fires.

"Who goes there!" Came the expected cry.

My breath coming heavy and hard, I squint up at the source of the voice atop the wall. "I bear a message for General Setsuna from the Regent himself!"

"Pah!" The soldier spit. "You’re no Imperial Messenger!"

"No.." I cough, and fall to one knee. "The messenger was slain by Tokugawa’s menCaptain Makato sent me" I drop fully to my knees.

There is a murmur of discussion, and very slowly, the gate opens just enough to allow four men to exit and gather me up. Two help me, half carrying me, beyond the gate. The other two watch me for signs of trouble. Once inside the gate, I am allowed to fall to the ground again.

"Can you prove your claims?" The Captain of the Watch queries.

Carefully, I pull a roll of silk from within my lacquered armor. "Here.." I cough, and a sympathetic soldier hands me a flask of water. I drink deeply, letting it stream past the corners of my mouth. "It bears Makato’s Crest, within it is the Imperial Signet Ring that the Messenger bore before his death."

The Captain looks carefully at the items, calls for another officer, then, with a satisfied grunt, he hands the items back. "The General is out surveying the area for disposition of the troops." The Captain helps me to my feet. "You have ridden hard, honoring Makato-taii greatly." A soldier runs up, and whispers in his ear. He sighs. "Your horse has died, and you are in little better condition." The Captain motions for two subordinates to help me. "Take this man to the barracks, find him an empty bunk, and let him rest."

"But the message" I protest.

"Can wait until morning." The Captain finishes. "The General will not return until then, now rest, soldier."

So rest I did.

I collapse onto a cot in the barracks, and sleep a dreamless sleep. When I rise, I find that I have slept well into the afternoon. I look about, and find the rest of the barracks empty. I leave the building, and eventually find the Captain’s tent. He allows me to enter without much hesitation.

"Please come in, Sergeant—?" The Captain pauses, expecting my name.

"Usagi, and thank you for seeing me, Takata-taii." I bow the appropriate depth for my rank and the Captain’s.

"I always have time for a dedicated soldier." The Captain smiles. "Word arrived this morning, the General will not arrive until this evening."

I nod. "I will rest until then, for I must deliver the message to the General himself."

"Are those your orders?"

"Yes, Takata-taii, from both from my commander and the Imperial Messenger before his death."

"You bear a grave responsibility, Usagi-gunsou." The Captain offers me some water. "Have you any idea what the message is about?"

I drink the water, the cup hiding my slight smile; the Captain is fishing for information. "No, Takata-taii."

After much discussion about how I have honored my family, my Officer, and my Regent, I am eventually allowed to leave. I head back to the barracks and, after a small meal, once more lay down on my borrowed cot.

"Usagi!" Takata’s voice rouses me from my nap, and when I open my eyes, he is standing beside my cot. "The General has arrived, and he is eager to see you."

I quickly get to my feet, and strap on the lacquered armor I had removed for my comfort. Takata watches me, and when I am done, he turns on his heel, expecting me to follow. Which, of course, I do. This is the moment that I have been waiting for.

I am led through the compound, past small buildings that house Setsuna’s Officer’s and staff, and past a larger building that houses his wife and concubines. The General’s quarters are the largest, and has two guards at every entrance. The main entrance is guarded not by soldiers, but by two samurai sworn to Setsuna’s house. The samurai stare unblinking at me, as Takata and I approach. Takata speaks with the one on the left, and we are allowed entry. Once inside, I am searched and divested of any weapons by two more soldiers inside.

"Takata-taii?"

"Yes, Usagi."

"Is Setsuna-daishou expecting an attack?"

The Captain glances about as we walk down a hall towards two more soldiers that flank a red door. "There are rumors that ‘Tokugawa’s Ghost’ is hunting The General."

"An assassin, Takata-taii?" I shake my head. "I doubt such a one could gain entry here."

He shakes his head. "You have never heard of ‘Tokugawa’s Ghost?"

"No Takata-taii, what is it?"

The Captain stops, and stands in front of me, his back to the red door. "The ‘Ghost’, as he or she is known," He glances about to make sure no one is within earshot. "Is Tokugawa’s personal ninja, and I have heard that this assassin has yet to fail."

We continue on to the red door, where Takata takes his leave and wished me well. One of the guards holds open the door, and I enter a spartan office, whose furnishings are arranged about a central table. Seated at the table, with an ornately scabbarded katana under his hands, is a large man, broad as a bear, with an angry face and sagging mustache. Also in the room, are two samurai, neither is wearing armor, but both are armed with their katana and wakizashi.

The large man stands as I enter. I bow to the General, eyes down. "Setsuna-daishou, I am Usagi-gunsou." I remain with my eyes downcast, until he speaks.

"I know who you are." I hear him reseat himself. "Give me your message."

I straighten, and glance about. One samurai stands near to Setsuna’s left, the table is between us, and the other is a little off to my right, perhaps three paces, gazing out a window as if searching for trouble.

I smile, and look the General in the eye. "Tokugawa-shougun sends his regards."

For a moment, Setsuna does not understand, then his small eyes begin to blossom with surprise, but I am already moving.

My first shuriken enters the General throat just above the adam’s apple, and sinks so far into his flesh that it is nearly no longer visible. The second shuriken, a small spike, takes the window-gazing samurai in the left eye, just as he is turning. The last samurai leaps onto the table, katana raised high. I duck beneath a hurried cut, and swiftly step in close and snatch his wakizashi from where it was sheathed beneath his sash. The samurai’s eyes widen in anger at this affront to his honor, and he attempts a men cut, meant to split my head. I perform a hiraki-ashi sidestep, and counter-attack with kesa giri, an upwards diagonal strike. Overbalanced atop the precarious table, the samurai is unable to stop my cut, and the wakizashi splits him open from his right hip to his lower left rib. He falls to the floor, his entrails seconds before him. I freeze, senses primed for the entry of the guards. Nothing. Either the mat on the floor absorbed enough of the samurai’s fall to keep the noise from alerting the guards, or the guards were not being vigilant. It mattered little. I dropped the wakizashi on the samurai’s back, and then pulled a small piece of rice paper with the kanji symbols for the Shogun from beneath my armor. I place it squarely on the table, and leave the way I had come, closing the red door behind me.

The scream of the General’s wife announces another victory for ‘Tokugawa’s Ghost’. I smile, and continue to walk away from the central building that housed the General and his wife. The guise of a Toyotomi soldier had served me well, allowing me access to the General as a messenger. His bodyguards had been eliminated as well, a point that bothered me. Collateral damage makes one look unprofessional, and I detested sloppiness. I sigh as I reach the shadow of the barracks, their deaths could not be helped, and they would add impact to the tales told of this assassination.

I glance back, and see soldiers scurrying towards the source of the outcry. I here some one yell my name, or at least, the name of the man I am disguised as. I turn, and see one of the patrol guards calling for me to take his post. I note that he outranks me, and so I follow orders, taking up his naginata, so that he can run and satisfy his curiosity. With a bow, I watch him run to the commotion, no doubt hoping to see the ‘Ghost’s’ work first hand.

I assume his patrol, walking along the assigned path, senses primed for stimulus, and watching as the rest of the camp searches for the assassin. Eventually, I too, am enlisted into the search. When soldiers are sent beyond the walls to search for signs of the assassin’s escape, I volunteer to be a part of that company. Twenty of us search for an hour, and find nothing. When the Captain recalls us, I do not answer; instead I lag behind, and eventually fade into the surrounding hills.

Smiling, in the lee of a far off brush-strewn hill, I remove my uniform and hide it in the same hole that, until just recently, had held my clothes. I cover the hole with dirt, and replace the piece of cut sod like a cork in a jug of sake. Now, clad in sandals, and plain pants and tunic, with a long bundle on my back, I walk to the road, and head north, away from the dead General. You see, I was the assassin all along. I am Tokugawa’s Ghost.