Through a distant spyglass, the Valeria slipped free of Ezochi in the early evening moonlight. Men worked the sails and the rigging as the wind picked up and the sea grew choppy. The ship was fast and rode hard on the waves of the Tsugaru Strait as it headed south toward Honshu, the Japanese main island.

Removing the telescope from his eye, Rutger Kroll, the giant blond Dutchman, handed it to his first mate.

“Ready all the cannons. Set marksmen in the rigging. Hoist the mainsail and prepare to ram.”

The First Mate snapped into action, shouting out orders, “Ready the cannons! Marksmen up in the rigging! Prepare for battle!” He turned to the wheel. “Helmsman! Ramming speed!”

“Aye, aye, sir!” responded the helmsman.

The ship became a flurry of action as sails unfurled and men ran about, fulfilling the First Mate’s orders. Weapons cases were open, and every sort of gun, sword, club and dagger was handed out to all those aboard.

Rutger stood cold and clear, singularly focused as he followed the Valeria through his spyglass, his sight never leaving his prey.

Up Next: Thank you for reading Book I: The Way of the Samurai.

The complete novel will soon be available on Amazon. To celebrate the release, we’ll also be sharing a free prequel novella, The Gates of Yoshiwara, which tells a story set before the events of The Way of the Samurai.

If you enjoyed the story, an honest Amazon review would mean a great deal and help new readers discover the series. We will email a link once it is up on Amazon.

And Hashi’s journey is only beginning.

Book II: The Way of the Assassin arrives in 2027.

Thank you for reading, and for being here from the beginning.

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The Valeria sailed out of Ezochi as the last remnants of the red sun set in the west below the cloud line. To the east, the pale-yellow moon rose. His adrenaline receding, his ship having set sail, Conrad walked the deck to get one last look at Ezochi. He had cheated death many times before, but this time he cut it a bit too close. Usually, it was some spurned lover or a father who caught him with his daughter in a compromising position. He was used to those situations and was able to handle them thus far intact. Occasionally, there was the double-dealing thief or the authorities to deal with, but they were rare. He had his experiences in battle as well, but what happened in Ezochi was different. These Japanese, he surmised, don’t fool around. Though Conrad loved a grand adventure, none was worth his head being lopped off by some overzealous samurai. Still, he knew enough from his father’s diaries that there was much more to this great culture. He marveled at the rumours of the great city of Edo and the exotic foods of Osaka. In Ezochi, he had tasted the soul-warming saké and seen the delicate femininity of the women. Conrad wondered at the beauty, riches and adventures he may encounter on the main islands. However, it was a hell of a dangerous place for a smuggler to do business. There was no profit worth the reward of one’s head rolling down some stone path. Conrad enjoyed the life he chose, but he needed to be alive to enjoy it. As Ezochi faded from sight and into Conrad’s past, he doubted he would ever set foot on any of the Japanese islands again, for if he did, he was certain it would be the death of him. Even though he believed his father was still alive somewhere in these ancient islands, it wasn’t worth his life to find a man that had abandoned him and his mother. He certainly would miss the taste of saké, though.

Realizing his clothes were torn and filthy, his hands and face covered in gunpowder and smoke, he wanted to clean up. A good sleep would do him well, but first, he had a debt to pay to Hashi and needed to know where to take the blind man. Before he could find out though, Sofia cornered him.

“You will take me to St. Petersburg.”

“Giving orders already. Let’s get one thing straight, Princess. On my ship, I give the orders.”

“You gave your word.”

“I did, and I will honor that, but I hate to tell you this, you’re at the bottom of a long list of people I owe.”

High above, as the darkness took over, wearing all black and spying on them from the crow’s nest was Shizu. Below her, the men set about their work on the ship as others headed below deck for the night. She watched as Conrad walked across the deck backslapping his shipmates until he reached Hashi at the Valeria’s bow.

Hashi sat at the tip of the bow above the siren figurehead. He held his sword, now sheathed in his cane, between his legs as he sat breathing in the salty air. Hashi sensed Conrad behind him, just as Conrad sensed the weight of Hashi’s grief for his uncle.

Conrad squatted down next to him. He loved to watch the bow as it cut through the waves and listen to the sounds of the sea against the Valeria. He noticed Hashi trying to pack tobacco in his kiseru, but his hands, still shaking from his loss, were incapable of setting it.

Conrad pulled out a pouch he had acquired from a Turk in Shanghai and rolled a cigarette. Though he didn’t normally smoke, he had learned the practice.

“You know, in America, when the Indians make peace with an enemy or make friends with someone new, they pack a pipe with tobacco and share it,” Conrad said as he licked the edge before he wrapped the tobacco in the paper and rolled the cigarette. “When one offers it, if the other accepts it, they are then considered friends.”

“Interesting,” was all Hashi had to say.

“They call it smoking the peace pipe,” Conrad said as he struck a match off his boots and lit it. “I don’t have a pipe, but here.” He passed the cigarette to Hashi, whose hands shook as he took it.

“Thank you,” Hashi mumbled.

Both men sat, enjoying the feeling of the sea spray on their faces. After the taste of battle, the blood and all the smoke, the salty sea air was refreshing in between drags of the cigarette.

Exhaling the smoke, it was as though Hashi was exhaling twenty years of life in Ezochi. The cold, salty ocean air flowed through his nostrils and filled his lungs. Hashi reflected on how he had never been on anything that moved so fast before. Inhaling, he had no idea what his new life would be away from Ezochi. So much lay before him and so much lay behind him, including his uncle, Kinzo. Without thinking, he said his thoughts out loud for a moment to no one in particular, but Conrad was there to hear them. “Everything I thought I knew was a lie.”

Taken aback, Conrad had no words. Though he had known the loss of loved ones, he could muster nothing to say. He felt for Hashi but knew there were no words that would give him comfort. Conrad did the only thing he could think of, he dug deep in his pocket and removed something he had carried with him his entire life. He looked at his talisman one last time, the lacquered sides of the fish had worn out from rubbing. It reminded him not just of his father but every adventure he’d ever had since leaving home with it, but he knew Hashi needed it more than him now. With his other hand, he grabbed Hashi’s shoulder. Though they may not be comrades, the gesture still conveyed the sentiment of understanding one’s loss between two men from opposite sides of the world.

As Conrad put his hand on Hashi’s shoulder, he placed the item in Hashi’s open hand. “Here. Take this.”

Letting go of his shoulder, Conrad watched as Hashi rolled the object over in his hands, feeling for an understanding of what it was. In the meantime, Conrad rolled another cigarette and said, “I was given that as a young boy growing up on the docks of New York by my father. He had returned after many years of being away on a ship. He told me it had come from Nihon and somehow, he came by it. He said it brought him good luck and he wanted me to have it.”

Hashi cracked a slight smile as he realized the shape in his hands was that of a small wooden goldfish. The brightly colored red goldfish was painted with black and gold strokes to define the eyes and fins. It was a well crafted children’s toy but worn now from age and being rubbed for good luck.

“I’ve had it for years now, and ever since my father gave it to me, it’s brought me good luck. Even after everything that happened in Ezochi, this wooden goldfish brought me the good luck of meeting you and your uncle. If I hadn’t, I wouldn’t be here now.”

Hashi nodded as he listened to Conrad’s words.

“After all it’s done for me, maybe this goldfish trinket will bring you the same luck it brought me and my father.”

“I appreciate your gift but I cannot accept it. I have heard that men of the sea are unusually superstitious. I imagine it is the same in all cultures and not only Japan. A man of the sea must never give away their good luck charm for it will bring misfortune upon them.”

“Those are just old wives’ tales and stories. You can’t believe those kinds of things.”

“If that is what you believe, then I thank you.”

Conrad lit the second cigarette he had rolled, inhaled and passed it to Hashi. “Am I taking you to Osaka like your uncle said?”

“Yes. I guess I will go there to find my mother.”

“Then you won’t be as alone as you thought.”

“When was the last time you saw your father?”

“When I was nine. He left New York and never returned. Some other sailors told me his ship disappeared somewhere in the islands of Japan.”

Hashi nodded his head, understanding Conrad carried the loss of his father with him in this children’s toy.

“Until my uncle told me at the bridge, I believed my mother had died twenty years ago. Worse is, I have almost no recollection of her. My uncle was the only relative I have had all these years.”

“At least you have her. You’re not completely alone in the world. I would give anything for my mother to be alive again.”

Hashi nodded, taking in Conrad’s words.

“I’ll get you as close as I can, but it may not be as close as you like,” said Conrad.

“I understand.”

Hashi smoked the cigarette as Conrad stood to take his leave, but before he did, he had one last question.

“One more thing. What was so special about that fish?”

“There was nothing special in the way you are thinking. He was a common goldfish from where I grew up.”

“Then what was it?”

“Besides my uncle, he was my only friend. But what made him special was he was given to me by someone who was special to me.”

“So, he wasn’t valuable?”

“He was only valuable to me and maybe I to him.”

“Did he bring you good luck?”

Hashi let out a slight laugh, “Yes, I guess I could say he did.”

“Then that’s good enough.”

Hashi listened as Conrad’s boots clicked against the wooden deck of the ship and he returned to the helm. Left alone with his thoughts, his grin disappeared and loneliness took over. He couldn’t forgive himself for not retrieving his uncle’s body and probably never would. His hand shook with grief as he raised the cigarette to his mouth with thoughts of his uncle. His other hand rubbed the well-worn goldfish with the worry of being alone in the world descending upon him.

As Conrad walked away, he stopped, turned back to Hashi.

“Your uncle, he was an honorable man.”

“Look at what honor brought him.”

“His honor saved your life, and by extension, all of ours. I’ll never forget him for that.”

Conrad’s boots clicked as he walked away again.

“Conrad-san, was your father a good man?” Hashi asked.

“No, not at all, but the goldfish still brought me good luck.”

Hashi laughed for a moment, then thought of his uncle. Everything Kinzo had done for him over the past twenty years. Everything that he had sacrificed in life for Hashi and then finally having sacrificed himself. How could he ever live to honor such a man. Hashi’s tears fell silently into the ocean.

The Straits of Tsugaru were a mere twenty-five miles wide from Ezochi, where Hashi had lived out the past twenty years of his life, to Honshu, the main island of Japan. It was such a short distance, but for Hashi it was a world and decades away. Leaving behind Ezochi, his uncle and his only friend, the goldfish, Hashi had no idea what awaited him on Honshu, but he knew he had to get to Osaka. It was there he could fulfill his uncle’s dying wish and find his mother. He knew that the path before him would be difficult and there would be many more battles to fight. He also knew that behind him was Tetsu.

Up Next: As Conrad, Hashi and Sofia sail into the darkness, they don’t realise it, but Death is watching them from afar.

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As was customary, Lady Yoshino met Marius in the same tatami mat room where they had played shogi only a day earlier. Behind her, sat her courtesans including the young woman who had served Sozaemon saké in the garden. This time, however, Marius had provided the game as he set out intricately carved ebony chess pieces on a wood-framed board inlaid with black and white marble. The pieces were stored in a drawer beneath the game board, which Marius had opened on his side. He gestured to Lady Yoshino to open the drawer on her side, which she did. Though the pattern of the board was not so different from shogi, she found the foreign board game exotic in its luxury of lacquered wood and marble. The stone was cold to the touch and as smooth as glass, but it was upon opening the drawer the true beauty of the set was revealed.

In the drawer, Lady Yoshino found the most exquisite ivory figurines, carved with the highest level of craftsmanship. She found the pieces beautiful in their quality and realism. Lady Yoshino had been well aware of the foreigners’ scientific advances but had never seen anything of their arts. As Marius set his side of the board in perfect lines per the rules of the game, Lady Yoshino studied the first piece she picked up. The piece was a serious and stern piece, the crown strong and stable on his head, the broad sword he held with both hands, a symbol of power and pure masculinity.

“That would be the King. The game is won or lost by taking him down.”

Lady Yoshino’s eyes looked up from the piece to meet Marius’. She bowed her head in understanding.

“Next to him stands the Queen.”

Lady Yoshino lifted the Queen from the drawer. Her fingers rolled over the Queen’s delicate crown. Her eyes marveled at the intricacies of the Queen’s flowing dress. Her pleasure at seeing the beauty of the Queen soon turned to one of confusion as she looked down the line of the pieces set in their velvet coffins of the drawer. Every piece from the lowliest of pawns appeared armored and ready for battle. Even the smallest pawn conveyed a sense of power and strength. All except the Queen, who only conveyed beauty in her dress and delicate features. Perhaps, Lady Yoshino considered, the crown is only for show in these foreign lands.

Noticing that Lady Yoshino’s mood had somewhat diminished, Marius lifted the Queen from her hand. He set it down gently next to the King in her proper place on the board. As he laid out all the pieces on the board he asked her, “Are you displeased with the Queen, my Lady?”

“She seems weak compared to all the other pieces. She is not dressed for battle.”

“Oh, quite the contrary. She is dressed to rule.”

Lady Yoshino had never heard of such a thing and it struck her as unbelievable that men would take orders from a woman. She couldn’t imagine such a land and how it could be.

“Why have a queen on the board?”

“You should know, Lady Yoshino. A great woman like yourself should know the Queen is the most powerful piece on the board.”

“How do you mean? There are no queens in shogi. And certainly not on a real field of battle. How could the queen be the most powerful?”

“Queens do not fight battles. Queens wage wars.”

His words sent chills down Lady Yoshino’s spine causing her to straighten her posture, now more that of a queen than a daimyō’s wife. Could it be possible there were women that powerful in this world, she wondered? Women who men answered to and warriors died for? She raised the Queen again to study the figure. Though carved from strong ivory, she looked so soft and fragile. Was there something she wasn’t seeing in this woman? How was it that a woman could hold so much power? Lady Yoshino didn’t have time to ponder such a question as there was a great disturbance outside the castle walls that brought her and Marius to the window.

Lord Sozaemon stepped out to greet an arriving Emissary of the Shogun. Lady Yoshino was sure this meant there would be something of great importance to discuss. Had her husband kept something from her? Any time an emissary from Edo appeared at the gates it was a cause for concern. She would have to find out the emissary’s purpose and that of her husband. The pair watched the emissary disappear with Sozaemon into the castle, the whole while Lady Yoshino was unconsciously turning over the Queen figurine in her hand. Her fingers pressed into the sharp points of the crown as she kept her anger bottled up inside her.

“How is it the queen is so powerful?”

“A Queen can move anywhere, influence anyone, and take down any piece. All the other pieces will do her bidding and her work. That is the nature of the queen.”

“You say a Queen can take down any other piece?”

“Absolutely, my Lady.”

“Even a King?”

“Yes, but the Queen needs to be bold and decisive.”

“If a Queen were to make such a move, she may need the help of one of these.” Yoshino lifted a white rook from the board.

“Of course, the rook would aid the queen with anything she needs. But the queen will need to use her entire court, even a pawn.”

Marius’ eye moved to the young courtesan sitting in the room with them. She was the same courtesan he had seen pouring saké for Sozaemon in the Zen garden only a few days before. Lady Yoshino’s eyes moved with his to the courtesan. Returning to Marius, her demeanor lightened as did her smile.

After a year of no progress, Marius believed, his plans were finally taking root in Lady Yoshino.

Up Next: The battle is over and Ezochi fades into the distance. Conrad faces a difficult choice: Hashi must travel south while Sofia wishes to go west. And somewhere aboard the Valeria, a shinobi still hides in the shadows.

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Aboard the Valeria, James held a spyglass to his eye to assess the situation. He could see Tetsu and Kinzo locked in their deadly duel. Moving from them toward the bridge he saw the gangsters firing their weapons at barrels and crates stacked nearby. However, he couldn’t make out who lay behind the crates and barrels facing him, but he had a strong inkling it was his friend and captain they were firing at. James knew Conrad had a penchant for trouble but what he couldn’t make out from his angle was who else was with him.

He considered unleashing a volley upon the gangsters but from this distance it would be ineffective. However, it might be just what Conrad needed to make a break for the ship. James shouted out to the crew to get a man in the crow’s nest. He needed eyes on the situation and the last thing he wanted was for friendly fire to kill his own captain.

Immediately, the young German lad the ship had taken on hurried up the rigging to provide him a better view.

From behind the crates, Conrad peeked at the yakuza as they regrouped. As the three lay trapped, the remaining yakuza fired a volley from the rifles Conrad had sold them. A shot blew through one crate and through Hashi’s kimono sleeve, barely missing him.

Sofia raised an eyebrow at Conrad. “Your guns will be the death of us.”

“I swear they were all defective.”

A gunshot exploded and a scream was heard from the gangsters.

“See, a backfire. I told you they were defective.”

“Even with them being defective they may still hit us,” said Sofia. “Why aren’t your shipmates firing on them?”

“They probably can’t see it’s me, their captain. That or they’re afraid of hitting us.”

“Perhaps they are not so fond of their captain as he thinks.”

“What are you talking about woman? Everybody loves me. I’m the fun captain!”

“Well, we’re sitting ducks if we stay here, Captain Fun,” stated Sofia.

“We need to make a run for my ship. There’s too many of them and I’m almost out of ammo.”

Torn between dying with his uncle and fulfilling his uncle’s last wish, Hashi wouldn’t budge. Conrad fired off a few rounds, taking out one gangster then reloaded with his last remaining bullets.

“I only have six rounds left.”

The yakuza sensed they were almost out of ammo and shouts came from their side for an all-out attack. One gangster ran at the crates only to be blasted by Conrad in the chest.

“It’s now or never. We have to get to the ship.”

“Not without my uncle.”

Tetsu continued to attack Kinzo who parried every vicious strike, but Kinzo knew he must make a decisive move. Though his skill was still the greater, but his consumption made him weaker than Tetsu. He knew he couldn’t fight much longer.

From behind the crates, Hashi’s shout came, “I won’t leave you, Uncle!”

Kinzo shouted back to Hashi, “Leave! Fulfill your destiny!”

Tetsu grinned a sadistic grin, convinced he had them both now. “There is no hope. This is where it ends.”

Kinzo realized his plan had failed. He looked to Hashi where he was pinned down behind the crates with Sofia and Conrad. There were too many gangsters. Kinzo knew Hashi and the others could take them, but he also knew Hashi was no match for Tetsu. No matter that Kinzo had trained him since he was just a boy, Hashi still had much to learn if he were to defeat a samurai like Tetsu. Knowing his nephew would not leave as long as he was alive, Kinzo knew what he had to do. His eyes met Tetsu’s with a glare before he looked to Hashi one last time and smiled.

Kinzo raised his sword high above his head and attacked Tetsu, leaving himself wide open. Tetsu’s blade cut across Kinzo’s stomach. He took several steps past Tetsu from the inertia of his attack then dropped to his knees. Kinzo planted his sword in the ground to steady himself in an upright position.

Tetsu turned back and stood over him. “I have won.”

Kinzo coughed blood as he looked up at Tetsu, still holding his guts in with one hand. There was no fear in his eyes, only resolute acceptance of his fate.

“No. You have lost,” he said as he smiled his dying grin at Tetsu. “Hashi is the one true heir. You have unleashed an avalanche that will destroy all you hold dear.”

Tetsu snarled at hearing the soothsayer’s words again, then swung his blade down with the force of twenty years of frustration so that it cleanly severed Kinzo’s head from his body. The relief of the twenty-year burden removed a massive weight from Tetsu’s shoulders. For the first time in ages, he stood proudly as a man without pretense. His lifetime foe defeated. Tetsu grabbed Kinzo’s head then stood straighter than he ever had in his life. His shoulders back, head held high, he raised Kinzo’s severed head in one hand as he gripped it by the hair and shouted, “HASHI!!!”

Hashi asked Conrad, “What is it? What has happened?”

Conrad had no answer. He knew there was nothing he could say that would ease the pain Hashi would feel. He looked at Sofia whose eyes filled with tears for Hashi’s loss and the man who sacrificed himself to save his nephew. Her head down, the tears fell to the frozen earth.

“Tell me! What happened?”

All Conrad could muster was a soft, “We have to get to the ship.”

Without another word, Hashi understood what had happened. He felt as though he was outside himself as he rose from behind the crates. Conrad tried to pull him down for cover, but Hashi’s will was unbending and his body immovable. The gangsters fired their defective rifles at him as he leapt out into the open. He headed towards Tetsu’s voice. The bullets, though inaccurate, whistled past his ears, some blowing holes through his clothes as they billowed out. In close range, the gangsters ditched their guns and rushed him. Some attacked with swords while others swung their rifles like clubs.

He killed the first two in a rage. The power of his cuts and the perfection of the steel sliced through both of them from shoulder to waist, their bodies slipped in two as easily as if he had cut a reed. Conrad followed him firing his last shots as he dispatched three more, but there were still too many of them.

Tetsu made his way toward Hashi, sword in one hand, Kinzo’s head in the other. Knowing this was certain death for all of them, Conrad grabbed Hashi and dragged him toward the ship. Hashi struggled to break free, but his grief gave him up.

“He’s already dead!” shouted Conrad.

“I can’t leave him.”

“He knew he would die. That was his way. His legacy is your future.”

Running for the ship, Conrad popped off his last shots to slow the rabble of yakuza. It bought them enough time to get in range of the ship’s men. Conrad’s First Mate, James, shouted the orders and let loose small cannon fire as well as a barrage from the ship’s marksmen that stopped the yakuza dead in their tracks. Half a dozen fell wounded or dead, allowing Sofia, Conrad and Hashi time to escape from Tetsu and the handful gangsters who remained.

As Tetsu Ryozuji watched Conrad’s ship leave the small port, he returned his sword to its scabbard. He wrapped Kinzo’s head in a cloth so he could present it as proof to his lady. He then withdrew from his kimono sleeve the cloth of his woman, held it to his face to inhale her scent and grinned, happy he was heading South.

Daisuke rushed to the shore near Tetsu. Seeing all those he knew dead or dying, he let out a scream of anguish and a flood of tears.

Tetsu looked at the young man who sobbed in frustration. “I swore to my lady, I would return with their heads as my allegiance.”

Through tears and trauma, Daisuke responded, “I swore to my father, I would avenge him.”

The two stared in silence at the distancing ship.

“Come. Let us find a way to fulfill our destinies.”

“I know a way,” said Daisuke.

Up Next: Marius and Lady Yoshino meet once again, but this time it is Marius who teaches a game of strategy, power, and political intrigue. Yet before the lesson can finish, a disturbance at the castle gate announces the arrival of an unexpected visitor.

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The last snowflake of winter drifted slowly over Ezochi, falling as millions upon millions had before it, only this one was different. It is well known that all snowflakes are unique, but less well known is that all snowflakes share a commonality of having six dendrites. However, this particular snowflake was different. This snowflake was incredibly rare as it only had five.

The odd, broken snowflake was caught on a strong wind that propelled it through the clouds. Carried by the wind, the five-dendrite snowflake fell lower, twisting and tumbling toward the earth. It found itself above Matsumae where it drifted between the trees to the small bridge.

On the bridge, the gangsters made jokes and laughed at the blind man who approached them with his cane. They swapped their guns for swords to save their precious ammunition as Hashi made his way toward them.

“I have no quarrel with you. Let me pass.”

The gangsters chuckled at the nerve of the blind fool. The gnarled, old, tattooed yakuza that had spat at Kinzo came forward as the group’s leader.

“We will lose our honor if we let a blind fool pass.”

“Better to lose your honor and live, than die and lose everything.”

The five gangsters let loose a hearty laugh at Hashi, daring him to cross. Hashi had no choice. As he stepped onto the bridge two gangsters rushed to cut Hashi down. In a violent flash of shimmering steel and pure red blood, both gangsters fell. Their torsos tumbled over, cut in half at the waist. For a moment, their legs stood upright in the position their bodies had left them as blood spewed from their stumps.

The three remaining yakuza froze for a moment in shock not believing their eyes. Hidden within Hashi’s cane was the blade that bore the mark of the Chrysanthemum, a symbol of loyalty to the Emperor. It had served Hashi’s ancestors and the Emperor throughout the Sengoku period and many wars before. Through the Edo period, it had lain dormant, passed from generation to generation. Now it was held by Hashi and after one hundred and fifty years of peace, it had finally tasted blood against its cold steel again and was thirsty for more.

“You could have let a blind man pass, but you chose honor. Now find what honor brings you.” Hashi took another step toward them.

The gangsters backed away as Hashi reached the apex of the bridge. Two of the gangsters rallied their courage. Hashi stomped his feet into the floor of the bridge. Pieces of dirt and debris momentarily rose, suspended mere millimeters in the air as his chi rose within him. The dirt and debris dropped back to the ground in an instant as Hashi’s blade whistled through two more gangsters singing its song of death.

The two stood frozen until their bodies split open into blood geysers on the bridge. Only the gnarled, tattooed gangster remained. Knowing there was no other way, and not believing he could lose to a blind man, he swung his sword wildly as he rushed Hashi with a yell. The gangster’s sword swung, but it was his head that flew.

Hashi had already wiped his blade and returned it to its cane as the gangster’s body fell over the side of the bridge into the water while his head rolled down the dock side of the arch. It landed at another gangster’s ankle who had his back to the bridge as he watched the duel between Kinzo and Tetsu. He jumped back when he found his friend’s severed head at his feet then looked to the bridge where Hashi was carefully making his way to their side. As the gangster shouted to kill the blind man, they all looked upon Hashi in surprise and wondered, who would have known that hidden in this mouse of a blind man resided a great swordsman. Only Kinzo knew, and only Kinzo knew his skill was greater than even his own.

Thus commenced a procession of death that would march through all of Japan.

Sofia crossed the apex of the bridge and fired Conrad’s revolver, wounding one of the spectating gangsters causing them to burst into action. Hashi and Sofia had already crossed when Conrad crested the bridge firing his gun, dropping two more gangsters.

After a moment of shock, the gangsters broke into their positions. A couple rushed Hashi, swinging their swords only to learn of the blind man what their dead comrades already knew. The first lost an arm and flailed on the ground in pain while the second found himself impaled on Hashi’s blade. Conrad reached Hashi, his guns blazing at any who raised a rifle at them. He pulled the blind swordsman to cover behind some fishing crates, where Sofia hid, taking the occasional shot.

“I must get to my uncle,” said Hashi.

“There’s still more than twenty men out there. We can’t take them all.”

Sofia let off round after round until the gun would fire no more. She looked at the revolver and tossed it away as she grabbed a Chinese rifle off a dead yakuza.

“What the hell did you do that for?” exclaimed Conrad as he snatched his Colt.

“Your gun is useless to me.”

“There’s plenty of others who like it just fine.” Conrad reloaded both revolvers as the yakuza crept toward their position behind the crates.

One gangster charged them, sword held high to strike as Conrad shot him with both guns, blasting him over the side of the bridge into the stream.

Kinzo and Tetsu paced back and forth like two wolves about to fight for dominance. Kinzo could see his old nemesis becoming impatient as the gangsters’ numbers were thinning. He recognized it in the eagerness of Tetsu’s eyes and his sadistic grin. He knew Tetsu wanted this fight more and in his eagerness, he would be vulnerable. The longer Kinzo kept Tetsu circling the more likely he would be to make a mistake and leave himself open. So when Tetsu finally struck, Kinzo easily evaded him.

“I have always admired your blade. The true sword of the first samurai of Shimabara,” stated Tetsu.

“Then come and take it,” replied Kinzo.

Tetsu attacked again. Both samurai easily avoided the other’s strike as they felt each other out.

“You have not changed at all Tetsu,” said Kinzo. “You still leave yourself open to your weak side.”

Tetsu’s jaw clenched at the comment till he could hear his teeth grind. Kinzo grinned knowing he was agitating his once rival. Making a second rash move Tetsu cut at Kinzo again only to be easily sidestepped by the older samurai.

“Have you learned nothing in all these years, Tetsu?”

Every time Kinzo said his name was like another cut to Tetsu’s ego. A slash against his honor. Yet every attempt from Tetsu, Kinzo countered. Tetsu’s anger grew as he witnessed the yakuza falling around him to Hashi, Conrad and Sofia. He made a decisive move with a downward slash to end Kinzo’s life only to lock swords.

Kinzo laughed as he came face to face with Tetsu.

“What’s so funny, old man?”

“I killed your young samurai. He was an impetuous fool, just like his master.”

The two men pressed their swords so hard against each other it threw both of them back.

“The other one fled like a coward. The samurai of Shimabara have grown weak since my departure.”

Tetsu swiped at Kinzo, who easily avoided the attack. The two men found themselves opposite each other once again as Kinzo continued…

“Your desire to kill me is allowing Hashi to escape.”

“I won’t let that happen. If the blind bastard is allowed to return it will throw our region into chaos. Your moral crusade for justice will destroy us all.”

“Our cause is just. Our family will be restored to their rightful place.”

“No, Kinzo. You will both die here in Ezochi and I will bring your heads to Lady Yoshino.”

“I told the boy everything. He will destroy you and your illegitimate bastard son, Ryu.”

At this, Tetsu flew into a rage. Losing all control, Tetsu hacked down at Kinzo with blow after blow. Kinzo knew he had unbalanced the samurai and grinned as he countered Tetsu’s every attack.

Up Next: The snow continues to fall as the bridge becomes a killing ground. With gangsters closing in on Hashi, Sofia and Conrad, and two legendary samurai locked in a duel to the death, not everyone will leave Ezochi alive.

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From across the stream separating the town from the dock, Tetsu watched as Kinzo rounded the corner and made his way to the bridge. The men shouted and there was a huge commotion as the gangsters armed with their samurai swords and newly acquired Chinese rifles from Conrad, formed groups of five or six. Tetsu directed them to positions on the bridge and along the bank of the stream while the shamisen musicians struck a tense tune on their instruments in anticipation of what was to come.

For Tetsu, it felt as if the day was almost over as clouds had rolled in to obscure what had started as a beautiful day. Now, with a chill in the air and the low light of a cloudy afternoon, he expected it might snow. Tetsu couldn’t believe this was the mediocre weather for what might be the greatest day of his life. For over twenty years he had waited for this moment. He would finally test himself against Kinzo to inarguably become the number one samurai of the Kurogane clan. Today, he would fight the man all of Kyushu knew to be the greatest living samurai. Here, in this desolate town at this insignificant bridge, he would face the samurai whose shadow he had lived in his whole life, the man who kept him away from his lover. The man who had betrayed his clan twenty odd years ago. More importantly, he would be able to fulfill his mission that sent him to this frozen wasteland. Soon, he figured, he would return to the woman he loved. He never would have imagined his destiny lay with these country gangsters. With their foreign rifles and his sword, he was confident that by the time the sun set he would be on his way to Shimabara to present to his lady the heads of both Kinzo and Hashi. He would end this decades-long thorn in the side of his daimyō and secure their future, and Lady Yoshino’s heir. Tetsu had never been happier than when he saw Kinzo come to the bridge. Today, Tetsu thought, was the greatest day of his life.

The shamisen musicians played a funeral march as Kinzo approached the bridge. The mob of gangsters on the bridge snarled as they prepared their rifles to shoot him while others brandished their swords. Kinzo stopped at the base of the arched bridge, surveying the mob of yakuza and grinned. He coughed more blood into his hand. Without bothering to wipe the blood away he put his hand to his sword and said to no one but himself, “Time to die.”

Before Kinzo could draw, Tetsu shouted above the din of the gangsters and their posturing, “Let him pass!”

Other gangsters repeated the shout until the men on the bridge stepped aside. As Kinzo stepped on the bridge, Tetsu shouted again to the gangsters. “Clear a path! Let him pass!”

The gangsters stepped aside, clearing a path for the old samurai to cross. His steps were methodical, slow and deliberate. His hand at his sword, ready to kill every last one of them. He eyed each man as he passed them. None could hold his stare.

With each heavy step, he passed another yakuza. Walking by the last gangster on the bridge, he whispered the same thing he said to each one of them as he passed, “Today you die.” A shirtless, gnarled, older gangster, covered in tattoos stared back then spat at Kinzo’s feet. Kinzo let out only a grunt.

Kinzo took a deliberate step to the edge of the bridge where he surveyed the small army of gangsters and knew he and the others had a chance if it wasn’t for the rifles Conrad had sold them. Most of the yakuza were poorly equipped, held their swords like farming tools and many were too young to have experienced real fear in a fight. Most would flee at the first flash of steel he surmised. If only it weren’t for those damned barbarian guns. His summary of the possibilities of battle with these lowlifes was interrupted when a voice emerged from behind the yakuza.

“Kinzo! Come. Let us finish what we started all those years ago.”

With a broken grin, Kinzo stepped off the bridge.

The yakuza fanned out into a circle to reveal Tetsu and to give the two samurai a wide berth. Though Ezochi was a wild land, the frontier of Japan was full of violence and those who sought it, still it was rare for anyone to witness a battle between two great samurai. Tetsu drew his sword first, eager to end what he had wanted for so long. While Kinzo moved to the side without drawing, the two great samurai circled, finding their ground and waiting for the moment to strike, then in a flash— Tetsu attacked! But Kinzo’s sword was there to meet him.

Across the bridge, Hashi rushed to help his uncle, but Conrad blocked his way.

“You can’t, it’s suicide. You heard him, you have to find your mother.”

Frustrated, Hashi wrestled with Conrad to get past him, but Sofia interjected, “Conrad’s right, it is suicide. There’s too many of them.”

A slight voice whispered to Hashi from behind, “Hashi, come with me. We can live together at the inn.”

Though Otane was kind and well-intentioned, Hashi knew there was no chance of that. They would never let him stay here or leave her and her family safe. The gangsters would come for her again and he would never be able to live with himself if he left his uncle to die alone.

“Being with me is no life for a beautiful woman. Go home Otane and find a good man to be with, not a blind, drunk gambler.”

He tried to push through Conrad again, but Otane pulled him back.

“You are a kind man.”

Hearing those words broke Hashi. He exploded in anger at the poor girl. “Kind man!?! If I had my way, you’d be a prostitute now! It was my uncle who wanted to go back for you! Not me. All I cared about was myself and saving him. All for the selfish reason so I wouldn’t be alone.”

Otane fell to her knees and broke into tears as he shouted over her.

“Is that what a kind man would do!?! No. I am despicable. I am a worthless, blind fool who only cares about himself. Is that the kind of man you want?”

In tears, Otane fell at his feet and mumbled, “A man who can honestly admit to his mistakes and make them right. Yes, that is the kind of man I want.”

Realizing his anger wasn’t with her, he redirected it and composed himself. Otane held onto his legs to keep him from leaving. Hashi broke his legs free of her grip and turned to follow his uncle to what Conrad believed was certain death, but this time, Conrad didn’t stand in his way. He understood there are some things a man must do.

Hashi took a few steps away from Otane’s tears then stopped. He unlatched the goldfish bowl from around his kimono. He raised the fish to his face and whispered to it as if it understood, “When you rise to become a dragon in your next life, find me, old friend. Watch over me as I have you.”

Turning back to Otane, he held the old fish out to her.

“He will be a friend to you when you feel lonely, as he has been to me all these years.” Otane took the bowl in both hands. She looked at the fish, his large eyes connecting with hers as if both could feel what the other was experiencing.

Otane collapsed into herself in grief on the ground, all while holding the fishbowl, heartbroken.

“Hashi! Don’t go… stay with me and you’ll never be alone.”

This time, Hashi didn’t turn back. Otane and the goldfish watched on as he walked to the bridge.

“I’ve heard stories of how these samurai are in love with death, but I never believed them until now,” said Conrad in an awkward attempt to console Otane.

“At least they have honor, unlike pirates and thieves,” replied Sofia.

“I take offense at that. We pirates and thieves have plenty of honor… among ourselves.”

“You’re a bastard.”

“You’re in love with me, aren’t you Princess?”

Conrad grinned as he loaded each bullet into the cylinder of his gun.

Sofia rolled her eyes as she followed after Hashi. Hearing the gunshots from the revolver Sofia took from him, Conrad looked down at the forlorn Otane. “You know, I really wanted to know what’s so special about that goldfish.”

Otane wrapped her arms around the fishbowl and held it tight, fearful the foreigner might try to take it from her.

“Can I just hold it for a moment?” Conrad asked.

Having none of it, Otane cradled the fishbowl to her chest.

“What is it about you people and goldfish?”

Two more shots rang out from the bridge causing Conrad to give up on the idea. Otane watched as he rounded the corner and ran up the bridge to join the fight.

Up Next: A blind swordsman marches toward his destiny while two old rivals settle a score decades in the making. Beneath the last snowflake of winter, only one path remains forward. And it is paved in blood.

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Where the town gave way to a patch of forest and the path led to the bridge, Hashi and Otane waited behind the walled home where he and Kinzo had stood only an hour earlier. Looking back the way they had come, down the main street, Otane saw the smoke rise from the compound. She bit her lip in worry until Hashi spoke.

“Someone is coming,” he said.

Through the smokey haze of the main street Kinzo appeared.

“It’s your uncle!” she exclaimed.

Kinzo’s kimono, which was already tattered, was now burnt and smoking. He coughed from all the smoke he had inhaled as well as his tuberculosis, but he had left the compound unscathed. The samurai and yakuza had not even scratched him. After having found Isamu and Ota at the compound, he knew Tetsu was here with them.

Otane was the type of woman Kinzo would have done anything for when he was younger. Even with Hashi’s eyes fogged over due to his blindness, Kinzo admired what a handsome figure his nephew cut next to Otane’s beauty. As a couple, they would have produced attractive offspring, he thought, but he knew that would be impossible. His nephew could not stay in Ezochi. Kinzo had his mission to bring Hashi to Osaka after all these years and soon Hashi would learn of his. Looking at Otane, Kinzo hoped someday his nephew would experience the real love of a woman and not just that of a whore in the back of a gambling den.

“Uncle, Otane wouldn’t let me leave unless she was able to come and thank you,” Hashi said as Kinzo approached. “Now we can go to the ship and leave for Osaka.”

His uncle ignored him as he peeked around the corner searching for Tetsu among the several yakuza guarding the opposite side of the bridge. “Quiet down. There are more gangsters than we knew,” replied Kinzo.

Kinzo bowed to Otane and the beauty she possessed. Otane returned the bow, even deeper, with great gratitude for what the old samurai had done for her.

“Thank you so much for all you have done for me Kinzo-san. I don’t know how I could ever repay your kindness,” said Otane.

“There is no need Otane-san. We couldn’t let them take you from your father.”

No sooner had Otane expressed her gratitude than Sofia ran to them, followed close by Conrad. Seeing the samurai at the corner, Conrad suspected the situation was more dire than any of them had anticipated.

“Do they have men set at the bridge?” Conrad asked Kinzo.

Kinzo nodded with a grunt in the affirmative.

“How many?”

“I counted more than thirty and I expect there is one samurai there,” replied Kinzo.

“Is there any other way around?”

“We’ve walked every inch of this town over the past few days. I don’t see any other way except across that bridge.”

“Okay, then we need a plan,” said Conrad as he reloaded his revolver and stuck his hand out to Sofia. “Give me my gun.”

“This is my gun now,” Sofia said as she stuck her hand out to him. “Give me more bullets.”

“You really think you are a princess. Think everything is yours, don’t you.”

She snatched bullets off his belt, “Stop calling me princess.”

Kinzo peeked around the corner, “We won’t be able to get to it with all those men there and their guns.”

Sofia pursed her lips and tilted her head toward Conrad, “You can thank your lousy friend here for that.”

“Most of the guns have terrible aim, except the one I showed Boss Mangoro,” replied Conrad. “We shouldn’t have to worry about them. They were made in China after all.”

“You’re a scoundrel even to scoundrels.”

Conrad grinned, “Yeah, I guess I am.”

“That wasn’t a compliment.”

“Sure it wasn’t, Princess.” Conrad winked, not believing her.

Kinzo turned to Hashi, taking him by the shoulders with both hands. “There is no other way. The time has finally come for me to face my past and for you to face your future.”

“You’re talking nonsense Uncle. We will fight our way through.”

“Remember the story I told you last night. The samurai across the bridge is Tetsu Ryozuji. He is here to finish what I was supposed to do twenty years ago. He has come to collect our heads.”

“Then we will face him together as we have everything the past twenty years.”

“No Hashi, I must face him alone, and you must get to Osaka.”

Hashi pat Kinzo’s arm, “We are heading south... together, Uncle.”

“You will have to make this journey alone. I must finally face Tetsu. I will distract him and the gangsters away from the bridge so you may escape by Conrad’s ship.”

“No! We’re going south, as we planned.”

“My life’s goal has been to protect you, you no longer need me for that.”

“A blind man against samurai and gangsters? He still needs you,” Conrad chimed in.

“You can’t face him. Not in your condition,” Hashi pleaded with Kinzo.

“Tetsu’s ego has always wanted to best me and this will give you a chance to escape. That is all that matters, not the life of a world-weary and sick ronin.”

“I don’t understand. We are going to Osaka together. We have plenty of life ahead of us.”

Kinzo grabbed Hashi by the arm. “Your mother. She is still alive.”

Hashi stood frozen in shock. His face washed white with confusion. His mouth could barely move to get the words out, “Impossible… She can’t be…”

“I don’t have time to explain. You must go to Osaka and find her. She lives under the mark of the chrysanthemum. She will explain everything to you.”

“You’ve told me she was dead all this time.” Everything Hashi knew, everything he believed was being called into question. He couldn’t believe his uncle had lied to him for almost his entire life. His shoulders dropped, his head hung low, his legs about to collapse out from under him. Only the voice of Kinzo brought him back to this moment.

“I have taught you all I know of the Five Rings. You have mastered the Ring of Water. To be a great samurai you must master the other four and fulfill your true destiny.” Kinzo stepped back to take his leave. “Honor me, Hashi. Become the man you are meant to be. Make our sacrifice worth it.”

Kinzo turned to leave, but Hashi grabbed his worn-out kimono sleeve and wouldn’t let go.

“Uncle, don’t leave me alone in this world.”

“Hashi, you have been like a son to me. But my time in this world is done. I have taught you that the way of the samurai is resolute acceptance of death.” Kinzo removed Hashi’s hand from his kimono. “I have accepted the way. You must accept it as well.”

Hashi grabbed onto Kinzo’s sleeve with his other hand.

“Allow me to die in battle. Let me die with honor,” Kinzo begged of Hashi. “Let me die like a samurai.”

Hashi released his grip on his uncle. He knew the tuberculosis in his uncle’s lungs would overcome him. He had denied it to his uncle and to himself since Kinzo’s coughing developed. It was only a matter of time. If this is how his uncle wanted to die, as a warrior, as a man standing rather than lying as an invalid in bed, then who was he to deny him that.

“This is the way,” Kinzo said as he squeezed Hashi’s shoulder before he disappeared around the corner and the red sun sank low on the horizon.

Hashi’s head dropped. His legs buckled. He slouched against the corner of the building and his entire body slid down the wall.

Up Next: Two legendary samurai stand on opposite sides of a bridge, each carrying the weight of the past. But while Kinzo prepares for the battle he has waited twenty years to fight, Hashi must decide where his own path truly lies.

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Smoke poured out of the rear of the compound as Conrad covered his mouth and rushed in. It burned his eyes as he searched each room for his two revolvers and belt, which were as sacred to him as a sword to a samurai. Navigating the compound, Conrad ran through the maze of sliding paper doors searching for his weapons. Flames had already engulfed many of the doors and were spreading across the ceiling while the tatami mat floor burned where oil from the lamp had splashed. The guns were nowhere to be found among the bloody, burning chaos in the building. He knew if he was going to get his prized weapons back, he was going to have to kill Boss Mangoro to get them.

Breaking through a set of burning shoji doors, Conrad stumbled into the ante-chamber to the main room. Here he found his Colt Navy Revolvers, in Boss Mangoro’s grubby hands. Boss Mangoro had speculated the samurai he aided would bring him wealth and protection by delivering Kinzo and Hashi. Now, as he saw his compound burn, he turned to Conrad’s revolvers for a solution. What good are all these men and samurai if they can’t fight one man, he wondered? Above the din of the crackling flames and screams of dying yakuza, Boss Mangoro never heard Conrad sneak up behind him. Boss was focused on trying to get a clear shot at the samurai who had set his home ablaze but Tetsu’s samurai companions kept getting in the way. Seeing his precious weapons in the grubby hands of the petty gangster was like seeing a lover in the arms of another man. What made it even worse was Conrad’s gun belt was stretched to its limit, strapped around his fat bulging waist. Any who witnessed Conrad pounce upon the yakuza boss would have claimed Conrad acted out of a crime of passion. His face, normally friendly with a smile for all he met, distorted into a Rorschach of rage. He beat the yakuza boss with his right fist while grabbing his gun with the other. Caught off guard, Boss absorbed the blows to his face and head as he swung his other arm around with the other gun trying to take a shot at Conrad.

Meanwhile, Isamu and Shinpachi were playing to gain position against Kinzo by running behind various shoji screens. Isamu had moved to old samurai’s left and Shinpachi to the right. They knew the samurai couldn’t keep both in his periphery, and they hoped to get one of them behind him. Kinzo knew exactly what their plan was, and though the flames licked at his kimono, he kept his footing through the heat and smoke and patiently awaited their attack.

“Quit playing games. Let us fight like true samurai, or are you not real samurai. Perhaps you are still Tetsu’s little servants,” Kinzo barked.

Shoji doors slammed open and closed from Isamu and Shinpachi searching for their opening on the ageing samurai. As Kinzo maneuvered around the room, he assessed his enemies in an instant. He felt neither the heat of the flames nor the cold of late winter. As a matter of fact, Kinzo felt nothing. He was in a Zen state of flow, his battle sense having taken over along with his muscle memory and years of training. He knew Isamu, the younger samurai, would strike first. The impulsiveness of youth brought with it hubris that could be deadly. Kinzo had known many youths who believed in their speed and agility only to be cut down by those with experience. Now, as the older samurai, he knew what experience to bring to bear against a lightning fast, youthful enemy. As to Shinpachi, Kinzo expected him to be a step or two behind the young one. He knew Shinpachi would let the youth strike the first move in the hopes he could catch Kinzo unbalanced. So Kinzo offered a feint opening to the youth and waited for him to take the bait. Believing they had finally found their opening on Kinzo, Isamu and Shinpachi made their move. It was the one that would end their deadly game. Kinzo waited, took in a breath, closed his eyes and pictured his nephew, Hashi. Right on cue, as he exhaled…

Isamu the younger, faster samurai was a full step ahead of Shinpachi as he attacked. As Kinzo had expected, the younger, less experienced one was more impulsive and took the bait. Sidestepping toward Isamu, Kinzo met the young man’s speed and got inside him, not allowing him the extra millisecond it would take for his speed to gain the advantage and bring his sword down to strike. While Kinzo may have lost some of his vaunted speed, his cut across Isamu’s torso was barely perceptible. Shinpachi hesitated, unable to strike at the old samurai as Isamu stumbled, blocking his point of attack. Kinzo remained, holding his ground amidst the burning building. It was the cleanest strike the young Isamu had ever witnessed. Unfortunately, it was on him. The two samurai swiped past each other and ended exactly where the other had started. Isamu noticed the sliced open fabric of his kimono along with his stomach. Taking a few steps, he looked down at the blood in his hands, then stared off into some distant nowhere. Isamu now realized what a great samurai truly was after witnessing Kinzo’s prowess firsthand. As blood filled his throat, all his hopes and dreams of becoming a great warrior faded. His final thought brought him back to the soothsayer’s premonition that he would wander forever in a frozen wasteland of white. The image stayed with him until his body crumpled to the ground, his mind went black, and he surrendered his ghost to wander.

“Your turn Shinpachi. Are you still the same coward I knew all those years ago?” Kinzo asked as the flames sizzled in Isamu’s blood.

With the young Isamu dead, Shinpachi’s eyes went wide with panic. Kinzo stepped forward, ready to finish the fight as the lone samurai sprung across the room to avoid him. A burning beam fell between them, allowing Shinpachi to retreat. He jumped through a flaming shoji door and escaped the flames of the compound as well as certain death from Kinzo. Silhouetted by the flames, Kinzo whipped the blood from his sword and sheathed it, then scoffed in disgust.

Meanwhile, Conrad pressed Boss’ hand to a burning beam until he dropped one of the guns. Going for his gun, Conrad loosened his grip on Boss. His hand free, Boss smacked Conrad in the head with a piece of flaming wood frame from a door. Temporarily dazed, Conrad fell back as he grasped for the gun, but it was nowhere to be found. Boss composed himself and raised the other revolver in his hand. He stood over Conrad and let out a belly laugh from his bloodied mouth.

“You foreigners, you truly are barbarians. But I thank you for the guns,” said Boss Mangoro, waving the weapon for Conrad to see.

Conrad glared at Boss, out of options. If this was how it was going to end, then so be it. He’d lived by the gun and now he was going to die by it, but damn it all, did he have to die by his own weapon. It was too annoyingly ironic that he would die by his own gun for him and that made him hate it all the more.

Boss grinned his ear-to-ear catfish grin. “I took your guns and next I’m going to take your ship, but first I’ll take your life.”

Boss Mangoro raised Conrad’s revolver and pointed it directly at Conrad’s face. He pulled back the hammer, ready to fire. Conrad tensed, ready to take the bullet. He stared Boss in the eyes glaring at him with hatred. When the blast came Conrad flinched, closing his eyes. He was expecting the burning pain of the bullet tearing through him, but he experienced no such thing. Opening his eyes, Conrad saw Boss’ face turn white, as blood spread across his chest like a cherry blossom in full bloom.

The shot he heard didn’t come from Conrad’s weapon in Boss’ hand. The bullet was fired from such a close range it went through Boss Mangoro’s back, pierced his heart and out the front of his chest. Conrad looked around but couldn’t see where the shot came from. Boss fell to the ground with a thud almost landing on Conrad to reveal Sofia. There she stood, behind Boss, with Conrad’s other revolver smoking in her hand. And now, she stood over both Conrad and Boss Mangoro.

“Remember my disgusting red hair when you burn in the fires of hell, you bastard,” Sofia said in perfect Japanese.

“You couldn’t be away from me for two minutes, could you?” Conrad said as he stood up.

“Please, I was following you to make sure you fulfill your promise.”

“Sure you were.”

As Conrad pried his revolver from Boss Mangoro’s grubby hand, he turned back to Sofia for the other weapon, but she was already gone. “Hey, get back here with my gun!” He shouted after her, but she was past the flames and into the yard. Conrad struggled to retrieve his belt and holsters from around the fat gangster’s waist. He strapped the belt around his waist and surveyed the burning building. Dead yakuza lay among the flames and blood-soaked tatami. Conrad followed the path of dead gangsters Kinzo had carved from the front of the building earlier. He exited through the front door as the fire consumed the compound behind him then dashed down the street toward the rocky beach where his ship was docked.

As the flames rose higher and the compound collapsed in on itself, Daisuke entered the yard through the rear gate. He ran into the house to see if anyone was there only to find all those he knew since he was a child dead amongst the flames. His childhood friends and the men he knew since he could walk all lay wasted with their guts and limbs scattered among the burning building.

With tears at the horror he was witnessing streaming down his face, he shouted, “Father!” But he didn’t have to look far to find him. Lying among the wreckage he found him, blood gurgling from his back and chest as it sizzled on the burning tatami.

“Father,” Daisuke shouted as he struggled to raise the hefty Boss Mangoro.

Returning from the edge of death, Boss opened his eyes to see the bastard son he never wanted or acknowledged.

“Let me get you out of here. I’ll find a doctor.”

Boss grabbed his effeminate offspring’s arm and stared deep into Daisuke’s eyes.

“My son, swear to me, you will avenge me.”

Daisuke burst into tears at his father’s final deathbed acceptance.

“I will. I swear father,” Daisuke cried out.

Boss grimaced looking up at the young Daisuke, still disgusted even in death, that this was his only son. Daisuke was the last thing he saw.

Daisuke, in tears, surveyed the death around him through tears until his eyes landed on the three Chinese throwing knives one of the men had taken from the crate Conrad had delivered. He pulled them from a beam and held them as he swore, “I shall avenge you, Father.”

His face black with smoke, his clothing singed, Daisuke stumbled out of the building into the yard in a catatonic state of shock. No one was left to help him. All that were left waited across the bridge. But for the first time in his life, Daisuke knew who he was and what he must do.

Up Next: The road to their escape and Osaka lies just beyond the bridge, but Tetsu waits on the other side. Kinzo must confront his past, but before he does, he reveals a secret that will change Hashi’s life forever.

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Boss Mangoro sat safely silent in his room in the compound listening to the dying screams of his men when a teenage boy slammed open the sliding shoji door out of breath.

“The samurai is cutting them all down,” he stammered as he panted. “He will kill us all.”

It was the boy’s first fight as a gangster and it had shaken him. Boss Mangoro remembered his first battle as he looked at the young yakuza and grinned that fish face grin at the memory. He had survived this long as a gangster and become a boss, so he had no doubt he would survive today to re-establish his power over the territory. His grin inspired the boy who turned and ran back to the fight. Boss simply stood from his seated position on the tatami and went to the beam where Conrad’s two Colts hung in their belt over a nail. He lifted the belt and struggled to latch it around his waist. Sucking in his gut he finally attached the belt on the last notch. His gut fell back over the belt obscuring it from anyone’s sight. Boss then left through the open shoji door.

Boss Mangoro meandered through the bloody path Kinzo had cut to the main room. He surveyed his destroyed compound as his ears rung with the death throes of his men. Many of them were men he had drunk with and known most his life and now they lay slaughtered or dying. He vowed he would avenge them. To that end, he drew Conrad’s revolvers and followed the smoke in search of the samurai.

At the rear of the compound, Conrad jumped to his feet upon seeing Hashi enter. “You’re supposed to be at the ship.”

Hashi headed toward the sound of Conrad’s voice. When his cane hit the pole Conrad was shackled to, he replied, “As are you.”

Conrad held out his handcuffs and chains, “Help me break out of here and we can go.”

“So desu ne. There is one thing though. Where are the women?”

“They’re right behind you.” Conrad pointed to the rear building they were imprisoned in, forgetting Hashi couldn’t see his gesture. Inside their prison, the women shouted for Hashi to come free them.

“Otane-san!” Hashi shouted.

Otane ran to the barred window, pushing her way through the crowd of female prisoners trying to see what was happening outside. They had heard the noise and screams of dying yakuza and were curious if they would be freed or killed this day.

Otane’s face filled the barred window.

“Hashi!” shouted Otane over the din of the women. Hashi followed the women’s pleas and through them all still made out Otane’s voice. Using his cane, he found his way across the courtyard.

“Hey! Where you going? Get me out of these things!” yelled Conrad.

Hashi went to the window leaving Conrad bound to his stake. Using his cane as a crowbar, he easily pried off the simple lock to the door. Opening it, Otane fell into the blind man’s arms to hug him in joy.

“You came for me.”

Hashi lifted her up away from him.

“Hurry, Otane. We must leave.”

“Go! All of you! Go back to where you came from or somewhere better but get out of here. You’re free,” Hashi told them. The women remained unsure what to do as several watched the smoke rise from the yakuza compound. Others immediately ran out the rear gate. Once a few had left the others became emboldened enough to escape.

“Come on, Hashi, get me out of these chains and let’s get out of here,” said Conrad.

“Don’t trust him. He’s a thief and a rogue who only cares about himself and money,” said Sofia as she sauntered up, just out of reach of the lengths of Conrad’s chains.

“That’s not true,” Conrad replied, “I’m not a thief.”

“I know his kind. He’ll take you and drop you on some island.”

“So that’s how you got here, huh Princess?” said Conrad. Turning to Hashi, “I swear. I always keep my word with a friend and a friend is anyone who helps me.”

“I doubt he even knows what true friendship means.”

“I’ve got plenty of friends, most of them are dead,” stated Conrad, “but that shouldn’t count against me.”

The smell of smoke drifted into the courtyard. Hashi inhaled and recognized it was coming from the main compound. He knew it was due to Kinzo and headed for the burning building to find his uncle as Conrad yelled out to him, “You can’t just leave me here to die.”

“You would have left my uncle and me.”

“Free me. I swear I’ll take you, your uncle and your worthless goldfish anywhere in the world a ship can go!”

Hashi shook his head and hurried toward the building.

“So this is the way of the renowned Japanese samurai,” Conrad said. “To leave a defenceless man to die.”

Hashi stopped, turned back to Conrad, and approached him.

“I am no samurai.”

Hashi poked Conrad so hard in the chest with the end of his cane it knocked him to the ground on his back.

“You’ll take us anywhere?”

“Anywhere! I swear.”

“And the woman?”

Conrad looked at Sofia then back to Hashi.

“Do I have to?”

Sofia sneered at him while Hashi turned away to leave.

“Fine! I’ll take her too. Anywhere.”

Sofia cracked a smile as Hashi reached out to Otane. “Excuse me, Otane-san.” He gently plucked a single pin from Otane’s hair and handed it to Conrad.

Conrad, cuffed and chained, turned the pin over in his hand, slipped it in the lock and freed himself in a matter of seconds. As soon as he was free, Sofia watched as Conrad ran to the burning compound.

“He must be a thief to pick a lock that fast,” said Hashi.

“I knew he couldn’t be trusted,” replied Sofia.

Conrad turned back before he ran inside — “Meet me at the ship!”

Up Next: Boss Mangoro’s compound is about to become a battlefield. Kinzo and his blade seek blood, Conrad his stolen guns, Sofia vengeance, and Boss Mangoro a way to save his crumbling empire. When the smoke clears, some will find what they seek, while others will lose everything.

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The pristine shoji doors perfectly enclosed the main room of the compound. Soft winter sunlight filtered through the translucent off-white paper doors casting a soft glow on the room. The tatami was meticulously clean with no sign of the past several nights’ celebrations. There was no hint left of the night Conrad displayed his products to the gangsters when they drank together with the yakuza women. There was no sign of the evening the three samurai from the South came or that two of them enjoyed the pleasures of the prostitutes Boss provided. Everything in the largest room of the compound was pristine, perfect and in its proper place until—

Blood splattered across one of the paper shoji doors casting a gruesome shadow across the tatami. Behind the same set of shoji doors, silhouettes played out a sword fight pantomime. Shadows moved back and forth, figures swung their katanas wildly at a single character in this tatami room theatre for no audience to witness. Many of the frantic gangsters shouted to regain their courage as they attacked the lone, silent character with wild hair. Their shouts to ignite their bravery ended in screams of agony. The wild-haired shadow they swung their swords at moved with grace and skill. Several of their shadows died by his blade and a great racket was made by them all as they struggled in their death throes. It was a magnificant display of shadow puppetry until it was not, and a sword pierced the screen dripping blood onto the tatami of the pristine room. The yakuza the sword skewered fell backward, smashing the shoji door off its sliding tracks with a loud crash onto the tatami. As he bled out into the mats, another yakuza crumbled through one of the paper doors. He swung his sword wildly, delirious with pain from his wound. He was followed by Kinzo, who stepped over the body of the dead gangster into the center of the room wielding one of the greatest swords ever made. There he stood, with his katana. The sword made by the great masters of the Sōshū School. The sword that was forged in the Kamakura period to be used on the invading Mongols. The blade served Kinzo’s ancestors and its purpose well, killing hundreds of Mongols and Chinese invaders. Many swordsmiths of the Edo period tried to reproduce the high quality and craftsmanship of the swords of the Kamakura period, but few matched the katana Kinzo held. The sword had not tasted blood in nearly twenty years and Kinzo could feel it tremble with excitement in his hands at its first sign of battle. The watermark on Kinzo’s sword glistened in the light as gangster blood streamed down the three-century-old, folded steel blade. Though the blade had been forged centuries ago, it performed as if it had been made for Kinzo himself. In his hands, the sword came alive. It vibrated with the frequency of death and sang in joy as it cut through gangsters. Like all true samurai, the sword and his soul had become one.

Gangsters streamed in to the main room to surround Kinzo, followed by Isamu and Shinpachi, the two samurai who were there waiting for him to be lured into their trap at the compound. Their hope was that these gangsters could at least bring Kinzo to heel, so they could then swoop in to finish him off and steal all the honor of victory.

With a quick slice of his sword, he decapitated a wounded gangster and reoriented himself on those who now surrounded him. He found his footing and surveyed the room as his enemies continued to flood in. One gangster saw his friend’s decapitated head and retched. Throwing his sword away, he vomited as he ran from the battle. Kinzo took his time to catch his breath. Killing was hard work for a man suffering from consumption, and it was taking more of a toll on him than the yakuza.

The scared gangsters all hesitated to make a move. Some feigned attacks to lure Kinzo into making a mistake while others shouted at him from all angles to sow confusion and fear. These gangsters had no idea how pathetic they appeared to the great samurai for there was no fear to cultivate in him. He had trained as a samurai his entire life. Being engaged in battle was where Kinzo found his state of Zen. Whereas the yakuza clung tightly to life, Kinzo was a samurai and had resolutely accepted death long ago. He was a true samurai, a warrior and this was his way. It had been some time since he had engaged in such a fight and Kinzo was pleased his skills had remained after all these years. He was both solid and fluid in his movements. He knew his art well. It would take more than some shouting gangsters to draw him into a mistake.

Tetsu’s two samurai companions, Isamu and Shinpachi, continued to observe from behind the mob of gangsters surrounding Kinzo. They were beginning to grasp that their superior numbers were no match for the great samurai and they would have to enter the fray. Isamu was eager as always and thrilled at the opportunity to vanquish a legendary samurai like Kinzo. He had already imagined what it would do for his reputation. He could envision the honors bestowed upon him, the money and the women that would be his to enjoy. Shinpachi was not so naive. He knew Kinzo and had seen the samurai in action before today. He knew Kinzo was powerful, but that was twenty-years ago. He couldn’t be as fast as he once was, Isamu speculated. Perhaps these inept gangsters could at least wound the great warrior.

Some of the gangsters gathered their courage and attacked. Kinzo dispatched two of these paper tigers with ease. As they watched their comrades die, Kinzo held up his sword to the remaining men. “The cut of this blade will be the last thing you feel in this world. Now come and embrace your death.”

This left the gangsters to quake with fear. One ran off causing two more to lose their nerve. The two samurai and the one remaining gangster steeled themselves. Kinzo coughed more blood to add to that flowing all around the room as the samurai nodded to each other in confidence then disappeared in opposite directions behind the sliding screen doors.

The final gangster took this moment as his chance. He shouted a battle cry before he attacked. He never saw Kinzo’s blade. The last thing he saw was his body fall away from his head.

Kinzo noticed the samurai had disappeared. He struck an oil lamp with his sword, splashing liquid flames across the paper walls and tatami. Oil burned down his blood-soaked blade. The room had turned from one of pristine beauty to a hellscape painted in blood and flame. He spoke out, “Now that these fools are out of the way, engage me. As men who practice the art of death let me paint you with my blade.”

Up Next: Hashi has entered Boss Mangoro’s compound, but before he can escape with Otane, he must decide whether a rogue foreign sailor can be trusted.

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The street to Boss Mangoro’s compound was empty. Every shop was closed and locked. Even the town dogs had disappeared. However, from behind the doors of bolted shut homes, Hashi could still feel the terror-ridden stares of spying eyes on him. In the distance, he heard a mother struggle to muffle her baby’s cry. The morning was the kind that the two men wished they had stayed in the warmth of their futon but Hashi and Kinzo had no choice. They had to get out of Matsumae. They had to get off the island of Ezochi. They had to go south and now they had to save Otane. The day before, spring was in the air, but today, all Hashi felt in the air was the cold hand of death.

The snow and ice crackled under their feet. Heading east to Boss Mangoro’s compound, the heat of the sun on Hashi’s face put his troubled mind at peace for a moment. It was only broken when Hashi heard the guttural shouts of the gangsters coming from the compound. Kinzo knew every yakuza in town was looking for them, but little did the gangsters know Kinzo and Hashi were coming right to their front door.

At the end of the street, where Boss Mangoro’s compound sat overlooking the entertainment district of the town, Kinzo stopped. He and Hashi stood at the wall adjacent to the gate to enter the gangster’s home. He was not fighting samurai, so he knew the gangsters would be easy prey for him as they were clumsy and inexperienced with swords. However, he also knew there would be nothing he could do if they faced him with those contemptible firearm weapons. Kinzo deliberated for a minute while he and Hashi stood at the wall in silence. He must get Hashi on that ship and to Osaka. Raising Hashi and now returning him, had been his life’s mission and his honor as a samurai for twenty years. He must do whatever it takes to complete his mission and get him to Osaka. There was nothing more to it. There was no way he could fail now, but he couldn’t live with leaving the kindly Otane at the mercy of men such as Boss Mangoro.

“Hashi, you go around back, find an entrance and get Otane. I will enter from the front to cause a distraction and end our quarrel with these yakuza.”

“Shouldn’t we stay together, Uncle?”

“No, we do it this way. Free Otane, then we meet at the bridge,” said Kinzo. “If I’m not there, go to the ship yourself.”

“We will meet at the bridge to the ship,” replied Hashi. “I won’t go without you.”

“Go and free her.” Kinzo coughed into his sleeve and spat blood onto the hardscape frozen street.

Hashi grabbed his uncle’s arm as if to say goodbye. Letting go, he turned and headed to the rear of the compound. Kinzo watched as Hashi followed the wall to an alley where he disappeared around the corner.

Gripping his sword, Kinzo’s face transformed from a kind, gentle uncle to a resolute samurai warrior ready to face death. With his grim demeanor and a cold, steely look in his eyes, he approached the main gate. A single kick from his right foot and the hinges of the wooden gate pulled from the frame. With a second stomping kick from his left foot, the hinges gave way. Kinzo grunted, rolled his shoulders back, puffed out his chest, stood tall and entered the compound.

As Hashi neared the rear gate, he could hear the shouts of yakuza reacting to the front gate having been breached. He then heard something that made him laugh to himself, as he knew his uncle and his skills well—

“Where are you hiding, you pitiful gangsters! Come out so I can cut you all open to see what Boss Mangoro’s men are made of!”

The usual guttural shouts of the gangsters rose up throughout the compound along with the screams of those dying who had answered Kinzo’s call. Hashi heard them all, and finally, he heard the guards at the rear of the compound run to the front of the building, just as his uncle had planned.

Hashi chuckled at his uncle’s audacity again as he entered the rear gate.

Up Next: As steel meets steel and blood stains the tatami, Shinpachi and Isamu prepare to test themselves against a living legend. In Chapter 26.1, Kinzo unleashes the full fury of his swordsmanship as his ancient blade thirsts for blood.

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Handcuffed and chained to a six-foot stake in the hard, frozen dirt of the compound, Conrad struggled to pull it out whenever the guards turned their backs. Not making any progress, he looked around for something he might use to pick the lock of his handcuffs. Unable to find anything, he slumped against the stake to contemplate his situation. Before he could consider it too deeply, there was noise at the rear gate. There was shouting between the guards and other men until the gate opened. Conrad contemplated how much these yakuza loved to yell. If they weren’t grumbling or grunting, they were always shouting.

Once the gate had opened, a few of the gangsters escorted Otane into the yard. Even with her hair a mess, her kimono tousled and her eyes red from tears, she was the most beautiful Japanese woman Conrad had ever seen. Then again, he had only seen about six or seven, but Otane was definitely the most attractive yet. He made eye contact with her and she noticed him. As a gentleman, he stood and bowed to her as she passed. For Otane, it wasn’t so much that she was looking at Conrad as a man in a flirtatious manner, but as a foreigner. She was surprised to see a foreigner in the yard of the yakuza compound and even more surprised to find he was chained to a peg like a dog. But the shock of seeing a foreigner was only momentary as her mind raced with fear at what these gangsters may do to her and what they may have already done to her father. A moment of chivalry overcame Conrad and he lunged at the men shoving her toward the prison only to be reminded of his chains and to be kicked back to the ground. Otane appreciated the gesture with a slight bow. As for Conrad, he did smile at her in the only way he knew how, which was always construed as provactive. The guard sneered at Conrad, and muttered some invective in Japanese as he beat him with the scabbard of his sword as they passed. Another kicked him for good measure and laughed as they left him bleeding from his forehead before going on their way. Once they were gone and out of sight, Conrad stood up. With all the strength he had, he pulled at the chains to rip the stake from the frozen ground, but it still wouldn’t budge.

Frustrated, he kicked at the peg until he stubbed his toe. “Ow! Ow! Ow! Dammit!”

“That won’t work,” said a soft female voice in a thick Russian accent.

The voice was a siren call that could lead to any man’s destruction, and as an experienced man of the sea, Conrad knew it before he even turned around.

“I’m open to suggestions,” he replied.

In the door’s barred window was the most perfect face Conrad had ever seen anywhere in the world. It was a face he knew well as it was similar to the one that decorated the bow of his ship. Sofia’s perfect face, framed in red hair, poked between the grey bars of her prison. Her porcelain white skin bathed in the soft warm light of winter. Conrad’s stare met hers. He was stunned by the icy blue-grey of her cat-like eyes. They froze him for a moment as he took in her full lips. Conrad knew right then and there that she was the kind of woman he would fall in love with or the kind of woman he would love to hate. Sofia, on the other hand, immediately knew she hated him.

Surprised to see such a woman, Conrad brushed the hair from his face and stood straight. He wouldn’t want to make a bad impression on such an attractive lady, especially the only English-speaking one in possibly all the islands of Japan.

“Why hello there. I’m—“

“I know who you are. You’re the one who betrayed his friends.”

“Friends? I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“The two men you told that samurai and yakuza to find.”

“Listen lady, first off, I have to look out for my own skin, ‘cause no one else is coming to save it. Second, they’re not my friends. They’re just two men whose path I crossed.” Conrad jerked his chain, trying to free himself.

“You’ll never break free,” said Sofia.

“So, why don’t you help me then?”

“Why would I help you? I don’t know who you are or where you’re from and I don’t think you should be trusted.”

“Then allow me to introduce myself. My name is Conrad Devereux, captain of the Valeria, sailing out of New York.” Conrad gave her a proper bow to introduce himself. “And who may you be?”

“I am Sofia Gamontova of St. Petersburg, Russia.” Her head dipped behind the door as she curtseyed with a smile. Conrad found the gesture cute but would never admit to such a sentiment.

“So now we know each other, how about you find me something in there to pick this lock.”

“Nyet. I have heard many good things about Americans, but I have also heard of Nu-yorkas.”

Conrad stood proud, “So you’ve heard of us.”

“Yes, I have. I have heard Nu-yorkas are the worst kind of American. I have heard they are dangerous, fighters and thieves who smell horribly.”

Conrad raised his arm to sniff himself, “I’ve been at sea for some time.”

“They are gangsters and thugs and on top of that they can be loud, obnoxious, forthright and,” she paused, “they cannot be trusted.”

“Hold on a second! Sure I may smell a bit and maybe I do enjoy a bit of a scrap, and yes, we can be loud and are forthright, but untrustworthy I take offence at!” Conrad pointed at her as he continued, “I’m the captain of a ship and those men trust me with their lives and I’ve always delivered. I would never betray my word or loyalty to anyone I consider a friend.”

Sofia pursed her lips at him, “Please, men such as you have no friends and therefore, no loyalty.”

“Well, Ms. Gamontova of St. Petersburg, if you were to say, find me a hairpin in there, then I will prove my trust and loyalty to you by helping you escape.”

“How do I know you will not betray me like you did your friends.”

“I told you, they’re not my friends. They’re the ones who got me into this mess.”

“You did it yourself by associating with these gangsters.”

“Actually, you’re right. They didn’t get me into this. It was you and your friends in there that got me into this.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, I refused to transport you and the other women. I don’t traffic in human beings… or women.”

“You don’t consider women, human?”

“I’ve met a few who were borderline.”

Sofia rolled her eyes.

“You know Boss will kill you for your ship.”

“At least I’ll die quick. You’ll be a sex slave for years if you stay in there.”

Conrad stared at Sofia for a moment, hoping the thought would resonate enough with her to help him. Sofia only stared back unsure if he could be trusted. Looking into his blue eyes she couldn’t decide if he was what he claimed to be or if he was like all the other men she had known in her life.

“So, are you going to help me or not?”

“I’ll think about it.”

There was more commotion at the gate as a group of gangsters, fully armed with swords and Conrad’s Chinese rifles, left through the rear of the compound. Conrad turned his back to her and refocused on pulling on his chain.

“Think fast, Princess. Before we both end up dead.”

Up Next: Otane is running out of time. To save her, Hashi and Kinzo must walk straight into the heart of Boss Mangoro’s domain. Join us next time to find out what their plan is.

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Kinzo peeked around the corner of one of the buildings where the town gave way to a patch of forest and the path led to the bridge. He wanted to make sure none of the yakuza were waiting for them at the bridge to the dock. There was no sign of anyone on the other side of the bridge. Yet, he was sure that if they raided the inn looking for him and Hashi, then they would likely be hiding by the shore to ambush them. They had been seen there at the foreign ship, and the yakuza must know something was arranged. So where were these lowlife gangsters now and what was their plan?

“Come on, Uncle, let’s go. Why are we waiting?” asked Hashi.

“Something’s not right,” replied Kinzo. “If these gangsters are after us, why are they not posting guards at every way out of town? Why only raid the inn?”

“It doesn’t matter. The foreign ship that will take us from here is just across the bridge.”

Kinzo peeked around the corner again while Hashi waited. There were no fishermen, none of the workers, none of their wives, and there were no gangsters. Worse yet, he heard nothing.

“Listen!” Kinzo snapped in a hushed tone to Hashi. “Do you hear anything?”

Hashi obeyed and listened. Not a sound was to be heard throughout the town or near the shore. Even the birds were quiet.

“Nothing, right?” asked Kinzo. His gut told him something awaited him across the bridge, but he was unsure what.

Hashi shook his head. “I hear… footsteps. Someone running.”

Kinzo put his hand to his sword and checked the bridge again. He didn’t have long to contemplate whether or not they should go for the bridge, for while they stood there assessing their situation, Otane’s father ran to them. His face was battered and bruised, his eye black and blue.

He struggled to catch his breath as he implored Kinzo, “Please! You must help me.”

Kinzo and Hashi gave the man a moment to regain himself.

“It’s Otane. They took her.”

“I knew something was wrong,” replied Kinzo.

“Where did they take her?” asked Hashi.

“They took her to Boss Mangoro’s. They said they would sell her into prostitution unless I brought you to them.”

Kinzo asked, “They told you that? Was it only Mangoro and his men that wanted us there?”

“As far as I could tell. I saw no one else with them.”

“I’m sorry. We must get on the foreign ship,” stated Hashi before he turned away to round the corner.

Otane’s father dropped to his knees and grabbed both Hashi and Kinzo’s kimonos. Tears streamed down his face as he begged them.

“Please, I beg of you. I heard you are a great samurai, Kinzo-san.”

Hashi tore his kimono away from the pitiful man.

“Please, I will give you anything to save her. My daughter means everything to me. Since her mother died, she is all I have.”

Hashi tried to raise the poor man, but he was so stricken with grief he fell like dead weight. Kinzo coughed up blood again that splattered on the ground next to the innkeeper. It shook the innkeeper from his sadness. He stood, releasing Kinzo from his desperate request.

“Forgive me. I had no idea of your condition. I understand if you cannot help me.”

“No, I’ll go,” said Kinzo. “Hashi, you must cross the bridge alone. Go to the ship. I will soon follow.” Hashi grabbed Kinzo’s arm as the weather-worn samurai turned to follow Otane’s father.

“If we don’t get to the ship, you’ll die. We have to go now, Uncle.”

“Otane’s life is more valuable than that of a sick samurai.”

“This ship is our only chance. We must take it!”

“We can’t think only of ourselves. A samurai must do what is right. The world is the way it is because too many people choose selfishness.”

Hashi’s shoulders dropped. His head hung low.

“Hashi, this is the way of the samurai. Even for an old, sick ronin.”

“Uncle, please. Go to the ship. You must head south. I will retrieve Otane and find another way to meet you.”

“No, it is more important you head south to Osaka than I.”

Otane’s father interrupted, “Forgive me, but how can a blind man face a yakuza gang?”

Kinzo nodded, tightened his kimono, and adjusted his sword. “Come. We’ll go save Otane together and make it back in time to take the foreign ship.” Kinzo slapped Hashi on the back, but Hashi felt no relief.

Otane’s father pointed the way to the yakuza compound while bowing to them several times in gratitude. Kinzo and Hashi left him at the corner as they made their way to town, unaware they had just avoided the trap where Tetsu and thirty gangsters lay in wait across the bridge to the ship.

Up Next: Sofia and Conrad finally meet. Unfortunately, one’s locked in a prison and the other is chained to a post. With Boss Mangoro deciding whether they live or die, both have bigger problems than each other. Read Chapter 24 to find out what happens.

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Lady Yoshino took her place beside her husband and daimyō, Lord Sozaemon, as their son, Ryu, practiced his kenjutsu with his master. She was eager to see how her son’s skills had improved as Ryu stepped forward in full body armor with his shinai, a bamboo practice sword. His sensei, an old samurai of great skill and knowledge, wore only his usual kimono. The two men bowed to each other to begin their match.

“Ryu will be a great samurai. He will make you proud,” said Lady Yoshino to her husband.

Lord Sozaemon responded with a groan as he studied Ryu’s swordsmanship. Ryu’s movements were clumsy, his strikes weak, and his parries nonexistent. Sozaemon couldn’t believe this was his son as he watched this disgraceful display.

“He is impetuous and driven by his passion.”

Lady Yoshino tilted her head with a coy grin directed at Sozaemon. “Like his father.”

Ryu continued with the match even though he was able to hear his father’s comments and his mother’s flirtations.

“Unlike his father, his technique is sloppy. He has not taken his position as the son of a daimyō seriously,” replied Sozaemon.

It was clear to Sozaemon that the master was going easy on Ryu. The master samurai had been loyal to Sozaemon’s family his entire life. He had trained many within the walls of this castle, including Lord Sozaemon himself. Why would he go easy on the boy? Was he afraid he could not be as tough on Ryu in his training as he had been with others because of his lineage? Or was it because Ryu was a weak, poor student of the art? Perhaps the master had softened in his old age. Sozaemon couldn’t tell his intentions, but he had known this old samurai his whole life and knew it wasn’t the old samurai’s fault that his son was disgraceful in his swordsmanship.

“Stop!” shouted Sozaemon. “Enough!”

Ryu and the master ceased their bout, turned, and bowed to Sozaemon.

“Master, you have taught most of the men in this castle, you trained me yourself, and I have never seen you go so easy on a student. What is your reason for teaching my son in such a weak manner, not even befitting of a woman?”

The master raised his head. “It is true. I have taught many of those in the castle, including you, my Lord. However, to train a man to become a samurai, the spirit must already lie within him. If it does not, there is nothing any sensei can do.”

“Are you saying my son doesn’t have the soul of a samurai?” asked Lady Yoshino. “My family is one of the greatest samurai families in all of Japan. The men of my family have been honored in every major battle throughout history. Even the Shogun and the Emperor himself know of my family’s history.”

“That may be so, my Lady, and I don’t doubt you or your family’s honor. I only say that perhaps the long peace the Shogun has provided has weakened our children. They desire none of the training we have to impart to them.”

“Then he has not taken your training seriously?” asked Sozaemon.

The master responded with a slight bow.

“Perhaps I should teach my son a lesson in bushido myself.”

Lady Yoshino was concerned her son had embarrassed Sozaemon and put her husband in an aggressive mood. She knew Sozaemon would take his frustration out on someone, and she preferred it to be in the bedroom with one of his whores rather than her son. Lady Yoshino put her hand to her husband’s arm to hold him back as she offered a solution. “What if we were to find another teacher? A younger teacher may be able to motivate his youth in a different way.”

Her thought steadied Sozaemon for a moment as he pondered who could teach Ryu until the rebellious youth challenged him.

“Yes, Father, you are a great samurai. Why don’t you teach me?”

As a daimyō, Sozaemon was not used to being challenged and didn’t take well to it. He liked it even less coming from his own son.

Disgusted by his son’s lack of manhood and enraged by his pathetic challenge, Sozaemon pounced from his sitting position to his feet, momentarily startling Lady Yoshino. Ryu could sense the anger in his father’s stare as he stepped down to the ground from the shade of the deck. Sozaemon briefly glared at the master samurai as he took his shinai.

“Put your shinai away. Use your sword,” Sozaemon said to his son.

Ryu flinched at his father’s request, then turned to his mother, who nodded to accept Sozaemon’s demand. Yoshino fanned herself as she watched on, even though she wasn’t bothered by the warm spring air.

“To become a great samurai, one must master the Five Rings,” said Sozaemon. “Nuki-waza!” he shouted.

Ryu raised his sword in Nuki-waza position and attacked, but Sozaemon was fast and had trained hard as a samurai. The shinai echoed with a crack as it slammed against Ryu’s ribs.

Ryu recoiled in shock as Yoshino hid her nervousness behind a cold, emotionless facade. She suppressed every motherly instinct to help her son.

“You have fire in your spirit, but you haven’t mastered the Ring of Fire. Kaeshi-waza!”

Ryu swung his blade to strike at Sozaemon’s side when another crack of the bamboo sword cut through the air. Sozaemon ducked and knocked Ryu’s legs out from under him. Ryu slammed down onto the hard dirt ground, knocking the wind out of him.

From behind her cold facade, every fiber of Yoshino’s being screamed to fight for her son, but the beautiful woman sat as still as a suwari bina doll.

Sozaemon rose from his crouched position and waited for his son to retake his. Ryu’s face clenched with anger as he raised his sword, ready for Sozaemon to continue his lesson on the Five Rings.

“You must learn to move like water, be silent like the wind, grounded and determined as earth. Only then will you master the rings of water, wind and earth. Uchiotoshi!”

Ryu shouted as he attacked, his eyes boiling with blood. However, his passion was not enough to defeat Sozaemon’s skill. With another crack of the shinai, Sozaemon brought the bamboo sword down on Ryu’s head. This knocked the young samurai to the ground, where he dropped his sword. Ryu bled from his forehead as he lay there stunned, both by the blow and his own weakness. The world around him spun from the impact until he could settle his eyes upon his mother. Yoshino’s fan snapped shut. Her stone facade looked upon him as she held back both her pain for her son and her disgust with him.

“Finally, to be a truly great samurai, you must confront the void. You must come to understand your own reason for being and the nothing.”

Sozaemon glared at Yoshino as he handed the practice sword back to the master samurai. “Train him like you trained me. Spare him nothing. Punish him if you must, but he will be a samurai. He has no choice. This was the life into which he was born.”

Turning back to Ryu as he walked away, he muttered, “This is not the way of the samurai.” Sozaemon stepped back onto the platform. As soon as he did, Lady Yoshino rose to leave.

“You could have killed your son.”

“If he were not our son, I would have.”

Up Next: Conrad’s ship is waiting. So is a desperate father. Kinzo and Hashi must choose a path. Read Chapter 23 to find out what they decide.

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Hashi and Kinzo had been awake since before dawn. The anticipation of leaving the island that had been their home for almost two decades had them up earlier than normal. For Hashi, it would be the first time he had crossed the Tsugaru Strait and returned to the Japanese mainland since Kinzo had brought him to Ezochi as a child. All night he dreamt of what excitement and adventures lay before him and his uncle on Honshu. There would be new cities, new foods, new people, and of course, new gambling dens. He tried to imagine what it would be like to be among the hustle and bustle of Edo or Osaka or the serenity of the great temples of Kyoto and Nara. After so long in the mountains, it was beyond him to envision being among so many various people. The excitement of the adventure that lay ahaed made it impossible for Hashi to sleep throughout the night. As to Kinzo, he had only one thought, and that was of crossing the Tsugaru Strait aboard the black ship, and whether Conrad Devereux would honor his word and deliver them safely.

As Kinzo pondered this, Otane gently slid the door to his room open and entered with a serving tray of tea. He sat up on his futon while she poured him the hot tea to soothe his cough.

“Do you think Hashi-san is awake and ready for tea?”

Kinzo nodded to Otane in a bow of gratitude as she backed out of the room and slid the door closed. In the hall, Otane listened at Hashi’s door, where she heard him addressing the goldfish.

“Today we finally go to the mainland. Everything will be new for us. Maybe we will even go back to Kyushu and you can see the pond where you were born.”

Otane listened to Hashi’s kind and excited words to the goldfish. She wished for a moment he was talking to her. Hearing him speak so kindly to a fish made her feel all the more lonely as no one had ever spoken to her so gently. Leaving Hashi his privacy, Otane gathered herself, took the tray of tea, and headed back to the kitchen on the first floor.

As Kinzo sipped his tea, he wondered if he would live long enough to see Hashi through to Osaka. For Kinzo, this was his final goal in life. He knew consumption would kill him, it was jsut a question of when. If he could make it to Osaka, at least he could die satisfied at having fulfilled his twenty-year mission.

The door slid open to Kinzo’s room, and Hashi entered, the goldfish securely strapped at his side. Hashi placed the goldfish between them as if he was the third member of their party, and in every way he was. He had been with them from the beginning and through the entire journey north. Now, unbeknownst to the goldfish, he was also about to make the return journey south. Looking at the two men from his bowl, the fish sensed their anxiety about leaving Ezochi.

“Are you ready, Uncle?” asked Hashi.

“I have been for twenty years,”

“Then let us go.”

Kinzo rose, strapped his two swords in his sash and followed Hashi out the door. No sooner had they walked down the hall toward the stairs than Otane hurried up the staircase at them. There was shouting from the first floor in the guttural Japanese only gangsters speak. Men bellowed from below, “Turn over the blind man and the samurai!” Kinzo immediately put his hand to his short sword, but Otane waved them back.

“There are too many of them. Quick, follow me,” she said.

Otane squeezed between Kinzo and Hashi in the tight hallway, pressing herself against him as she did in the onsen. Her closeness and her concern for their safety weren’t lost on either of them

Otane guided them to another room at the back of the building. As they reached it, the noise from below brought out several of the other lodgers. Shoji doors slid open along the hall as other travelers and merchants filled it to see what the commotion was about. This bought the trio time and cover as the gangsters couldn’t make their way through the crowd in such a tight space.

At the end of the hall, Otane slid open a door to a room that was smaller than a guest’s quarters. It served as a large closet for service and there was a ladder to the first floor that led to a storage room and the kitchen. Otane went down the ladder first, followed by Hashi. As he took a step to find his footing, Otane reached out and grabbed his ankle. She guided his foot to the first rung as he made his way down the ladder. Once Hashi and Kinzo were on the ground floor, she led them to a door out the back. Above them, they could hear the gangsters going room to room, shouting at the lodgers. As Kinzo and Hashi were about to leave through an alley, Otane tugged Hashi’s sleeve.

“Please take me go with you,” she begged.

“Otane-san, I can’t. I am unworthy of a woman like you.”

“I’m so alone here,” she muttered as if no one was listening.

“Otane-san…” Hashi drifted off. He couldn’t find the words to soothe her.

Kinzo stepped in as the voice of reason, unsure what had transpired between them while he was drunk the previous night. “Otane-san, thank you for helping us. But we cannot take you with us. We don’t know what these foreign devils would do to a beautiful woman such as yourself. It would be too dangerous and we couldn’t live with ourselves if something happened to you.”

Hearing that, she let go of Hashi’s sleeve. Her head hung low, she knew she would likely never leave Ezochi. Kinzo led the way down the alley and out into the back street. He waited a moment as Hashi stood by the devastated Otane.

“Thank you for helping us, Otane-san,” Hashi bowed to her as he left.

Knowing she was not leaving, Hashi mumbled to her a small word of encouragement as her only hope to leave Ezochi slipped away, “Gambatte, Otane-san.”

Up Next: Ryu has a challenge for his father, Lord Sozaemon. The daimyō accepts. Read Chapter 22 to find out who regrets it.

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Caught somewhere between the horror of seeing the only man who treated him like a son die and fear for himself, Daisuke heaved into the frozen dirt. Boss walked over to him and pressed the end of the rifle under his chin. “If you weren’t my son, that would have been you. Don’t bring shame on me like this again.” All Daisuke could do was nod in response to his father’s order. All were silent, including Conrad, as Boss let out a belly laugh. “Pay our friend. These are fine weapons, Conrad.”

One of Boss’ higher-level men came forward and waved two other yakuza out from the compound. They rushed out with a wooden case. Boss’ man opened the lock with a key, slid the top off to show him neatly arranged rows of gold ryō. Conrad’s eyes lit up at the sight, though he tried to hide it. This is what he came for and this is what he needed. Now he had to get the gold back to Shanghai and repay the Dragon for his freedom.

“Have them take it to my ship,” Conrad said to one of the gangsters. “It’s been a pleasure doing business with you, Boss Mangoro,” he said as he followed the men to the rear gate.

“Where are you off to, my friend? We haven’t finished our business. Come. Walk with me.” Boss took Conrad by the arm, noticing his resistance as he escorted him toward the building against the back wall of the compound, where a few women’s faces watched through a barred window in the door awaiting their fate.

Tetsu whispered to Daisuke as Boss escorted Conrad to the barred window, “Take me to the place where the Ainu died as soon as this is done.”

All Daisuke could do in his fearful, weakened state was nod and avert his eyes to the ground.

Boss explained to Conrad as they walked, “Now that I’ve kept my side of the bargain, you must complete yours.”

“Not sure what you mean, I’ve provided the guns.”

“But you also promised to do me a favor.”

At the barred window in the door, Boss put his hand out for Conrad to look through it. Conrad knew he was being set up for something he was not prepared to deal with. However, when he looked in, he was surprised to find a dark room crowded with women. Conrad only glanced in, as trading in humans and slavery disgusted him more than anything he’d seen in all his travels. What he didn’t notice in the crowd of women was Sofia, covered in her hooded cloak.

“I want you to take them to Niigata where they will be sold,” said Boss Mangoro.

“I don’t traffic in human beings,” replied Conrad.

“This was our deal.”

“I have three rules on my ship - no animals, no Japanese and definitely, absolutely… no women. It’s bad luck.”

Boss sighed with a sense of loss. Here he had stepped outside thinking today was going to be a great day. Since then, the warmth of the sun had slipped behind the clouds. The optimism of the coming spring faded with the news of one of his most profitable gambling dens having been robbed, and now there was this. This foreigner refused to do him a favor and unload the women he had promised his friend in Niigata he would deliver. Today was not turning out to be the wonderful day Boss Mangoro had hoped. He had hoped for a long-lasting trading relationship with this American, but here he was, ready to end it already. In his mind, Boss had no choice as he looked over Conrad’s shoulder to Tetsu and his two samurai.

“Is it not the law that foreigners are to be beheaded on sight?”

Tetsu nodded and gripped the handle of his sword. The two other samurai grabbed Conrad, forcing him to his knees.

“Boss, come on, we’re all friends here. I’ll give you a discount on the guns.”

Two gangsters stripped Conrad of his Colt revolvers and handed them to Boss Mangoro, whose slimy fish face grinned at his new toys.

“As a member of the shogunate, you should behead this foreign scum.”

Tetsu stepped forward, drew his sword.

“I won’t get near Niigata as a foreigner. Even if I take the women, they will stop my ship.”

Boss didn’t care anymore. He knew Conrad would do anything to save his own neck at this point. Now Boss was thinking of how he could take Conrad’s ship for himself and the wealth he would be able to create.

Tetsu raised his sword ready to cut off Conrad’s head, when—

“Wait! Wait! I know where the blind man and the samurai are! My first mate followed them,” Conrad blurted out.

Boss held his hand to stop Tetsu. But the samurai already understood, even if he didn’t fully understand the foreigner’s rough Japanese.

Up Next: After twenty years, Hashi and Kinzo are finally ready to leave Ezochi. But before they can begin their journey south, gangsters descend on the inn searching for them. We will be taking a one week break before the release of the final chapters and the climactic conclusion of The Way of the Samurai.

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The two men looked like hell. Their eyes were black with lack of sleep and it was obvious both men were hungover. Seeing them like this, Boss knew the news they brought with them could not be good. Now, besides this mysterious samurai who doesn’t flinch at the sight of a foreign devil, he was even more annoyed to have to deal with whatever problem these two were coming to him with. He thought today was going to be a great day, but he was already regretting leaving his room and the warmth of the whore in his futon.

“They took everything, the entire week’s winnings,” stated Saga.

Boss stomped over to the two men, who dropped to their knees and begged for forgiveness. “Who did it?” demanded Boss.

“A ronin and a blind man,” said Saga. “They took all we had brought for you.”

“Where is the giant Ainu I sent you as protection?”

“The samurai killed him when he tried to get the money back,” Saga replied. “His body is in an alley. I can take you there.”

Hearing of the samurai and blind man, Tetsu moved toward the kneeling men and barked, “Where did they go?”

Saga had not expected the samurai to be here. Seeing Tetsu here caused his hatred of samurai to rise again. He turned to Boss, ignoring the samurai’s request.

The disrespect burned Tetsu, who placed his hand to his sword as his face reddened with rage.

“Tell me where they went now or I’ll kill you here as I should have in your den.”

Boss slid his hand to Tetsu’s arm as he moved to draw his sword. Tetsu looked down at the hand of the gangster touching his arm with complete disgust. Understanding, Boss withdrew his hand as Tetsu removed his hand from his sword.

“Let him speak,” said Boss.

Turning to Saga, he asked, “Tell us. Where did they go?”

“We don’t know. We…” Saga mumbled.

Tetsu’s hand moved back to his sword to end the dialogue with Saga until Daisuke chimed in to rescue him—

“After the blind man and the samurai robbed us, we followed them. They came to Matsumae. We found them on the docks, then trailed them into town where they went to drink. After they were drunk, we ambushed them in an alley. That is where they killed Besho.”

“A blind man and a drunk ronin killed the giant bastard?” asked Boss.

One of his men may be dead, but it still may work out for him to get his money back and be rid of this southern samurai. Maybe his morning wasn’t all bad.

“Is this true?” Boss asked of Saga, who nodded in agreement.

Tetsu shouted, “Where are they now?”

Both men kneeled shaking their heads.

The samurai moved in to beat the answer out of them even if they didn’t have it, but Boss again raised his hand to stop him. Conrad stood back hoping this disturbance would not derail the deal.

“Not only is one of my best men dead, but you let an old samurai and a blind fool escape you,” said Boss.

Both Saga and Daisuke averted their eyes as they begged for forgiveness. But on this brisk morning, Boss didn’t have forgiveness in him. He waved two of his guards to grab Saga, then turned to Conrad.

“It’s time we test one of your guns.”

Conrad nodded with a grin and cracked open one of the crates. Boss waved for the guards to place Saga against the wall. The old gangster was only beginning to comprehend his fate as they dragged him to the back wall of the compound. Boss walked over to a tree and picked a frozen daidai, a bitter orange and a symbol of longevity, from its branches. He inspected the fruit as if checking for imperfections. It was overly ripe and would have rotted away if it had not been frozen to the tree. Pleased with his selection, Boss approached Saga. Saga didn’t beg or say anything. He was too gripped with fear to plead his case any further. He simply stood there, trembling slightly with his jaw hanging open as Boss held the daidai up before Saga.

“For longevity,” said Boss.

He then set the daidai upon his head. Having lost his topknot, Boss Mangoro found it difficult to balance on Saga’s balding head. He grabbed Saga’s face to make him stop trembling. Once it was finally set, he walked back to where Conrad stood with a rifle loaded. Boss grinned as he took the gun from him. Conrad swung around to explain the weapon, pointing out its features. As he stated them, Boss aimed the rifle at Saga. He then took his time with the weapon to make Saga suffer trying to keep the daidai balanced.

“Here you have your trigger,” said Conrad, as Boss checked his finger against the mechanism.

“Aim down the line of the barrel and find the target through the sight at the end.” Conrad pointed along the barrel of the gun as Boss readjusted his stance and aim.

“Now, you’re all ready. Fire at will.” Conrad had barely gotten the words out when the blast of the gun sent a plume of smoke billowing into the crisp clean air and Boss recoiled with the rifle. Conrad grabbed the rifle as it swung skyward. Boss laughed and waved the smoke away to see what damage he had done.

Saga stopped trembling. He felt something wet above his abdomen. Looking down caused the daidai to roll off his head. As he watched the daidai roll around at his feet, he noticed the fruit was unscathed.

“You missed,” said Saga.

“No, it hit exactly where I wanted,” replied Boss.

Saga touched the wet spot at his abdomen when he noticed the blood on his hand. He then fell to his knees and curled into a ball. Saga writhed in silent pain as he died with his face in the frozen dirt.

Up Next: Saga isn’t the only one having a very bad day. A proposition is put forward, and Conrad’s life hinges on his answer. Read Chapter 20, Part 3 to find out what he decides.

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It was a brisk winter morning. Spring had not yet fully broken winter’s cold grip on Ezochi. It was one of those end-of-winter days where the sun shines brighter than summer, but the air is crisp and cool. The snow was melting, and though the ground had not softened out of its deep freeze, Conrad felt spring was upon them. The plum tree in the back of Boss’ compound was already budding. In another two weeks, it would flower. Things couldn’t be going more smoothly, Conrad thought. The weapons and other goods had been delivered from his ship throughout the morning, and now all he had to do was collect his gold. He could then return to Hong Kong, pay off his debt to the Dragon, and once again be a free man. Enjoying the idea of his soon to be freedom, Conrad knew that today was going to be a good day.

When Boss and Tetsu came out of the compound, Boss sensed the end of winter in the air as well. He could feel that these were the last cold days of the dark season and looked forward to the spring. It wouldn’t be long before he and his men would be drinking saké outside under the cherry blossoms with the fresh prostitutes that would arrive from the main island. Men and money would flow into Matsumae as the fur traders, fishermen, miners and loggers went back to work. Boss loved the end of winter because with it came gold. In the rear of the compound, they found Conrad standing among several stacks of crates, the vapor from his breath rolling in the air. Boss was pleased to see the crates of rifles delivered as promised, but was surprised to see Tetsu’s reaction or lack of reaction to the American. Conrad, on the other hand, hid his surprise at seeing three samurai with Boss. One look at Tetsu, and Conrad’s hopes of today being a good day sank.

The samurai showed no signs of shock or disgust at the sight of the foreigner. He appeared completely at ease with Conrad being there. Tetsu knew the law. Any foreigners on Japanese soil, unless Dutch or Chinese traders or sanctioned by the Shogun himself, were to be beheaded on sight. He was honor-bound as a samurai to kill Conrad where he stood. However, Tetsu was also wise enough to understand the local politics of this far-flung territory and that the rules of the mainland didn’t necessarily apply here. Here in Ezochi, Tetsu was free to practice kiri-sute gomen, to kill anyone he deemed to have insulted him in a way he couldn’t practice on Honshu. So perhaps the Shogun’s rule about foreigners was also flexible here. He knew it wasn’t, but that was how he rationalized it away. Tetsu was aware that these local yakuza were beholden to the local samurai at the castle outpost in Matsumae. Surely they must be providing them there with some of these foreign gifts and plenty of bribes to look the other way. It benefited all. The corruption and having to deal with these degenerate yakuza disgusted Tetsu, but he still had his mission and purpose. All he wanted was to return home, to her, to his love. He needed these yakuza to do that. The situation left him with a choice. He could fulfill his duty, kill the foreigner and risk the gangsters turning against him, or remain silent and use them to complete his mission. He may serve the Shogun, but the woman he loved overrode all his loyalties. Thus, he didn’t reach for his sword. As a matter of fact, Tetsu didn’t even flinch, he was so resolute in his desire. However, he knew once he returned, the Shogun would be informed of the corruption in the territory, and these yakuza and local samurai would pay the price for their dishonor.

Boss knew Tetsu was from Kyushu, but not exactly where in Kyushu. He had assumed Kagoshima since he was searching for someone from the islands near there. But now he wondered if these southerns were from Nagasaki, as that would explain their lack of a reaction to a foreigner being on Japanese land.

“Ryozuji-san, this is Conrad Devereux. He has brought us gifts from China.”

Tetsu gave Conrad barely a nod. He would never bow to a foreigner. Conrad nodded in return and sensed immediately that this was not a man to trifle with. He had heard many stories of these samurai warriors and how they would cut a man down for a wrong glance. Conrad tried to avoid offending the samurai at risk of upsetting his deal with Boss or worse, but he did steal a look at the man. What Conrad noticed most was Tetsu’s posture and presence. For a man much shorter than himself, he commanded a greater height. Not necessarily a physical height so much as a projected one. His posture portrayed the utmost confidence, but it was the intense attitude of the man that concerned Conrad. It was obvious he was a samurai of some kind, but unlike Kinzo, Tetsu’s movements were strict and rigid. He sensed none of the cool calmness of Kinzo in Tetsu. Instead, he felt as if the samurai radiated anger and frustration. There was an odd intensity to Tetsu he had never seen in any other warrior or soldier he had ever met. He had come across soldiers of the British Empire, Sioux warriors of the plains tribes, the various martial artists of China, and the Zulu warriors of Africa, but none of them projected their presence the way this samurai did. There was something different about Tetsu, and he was unsure if he ever wanted to know what that was. Still, it was of deep concern to him that Boss had brought this man with him to complete their deal.

What bothered Conrad the most was that this was unexpected. It was not part of the plan. There was too much at stake for Conrad and one thing he hated was when someone changed the deal. He knew that samurai and any Japanese were meant to kill foreigners on sight. So, this was not good for him, but he also surmised their presence may not be good for Boss. Something was awry, and he didn’t like it. He had to settle this deal with Boss, and get the hell out of here as fast as he could. If things turned sour, Tetsu was the one he would have to shoot first. He would go for Boss second and hope that it would deter the others long enough for him to escape. But none of this was good. He didn’t like it and he didn’t like the look of the samurai. Regardless, his revolvers were ready at his side, fully loaded. Unfortunately, he had a feeling they would be used before the day was through, even if it was the last thing he wanted.

Before Conrad could even say good morning to Boss, there was a commotion at the rear gate of the yard. After some shouting from both sides of the wall, the guards opened the gate to Saga and Daisuke.

Up Next: Tetsu. Boss Mangoro. Conrad. Daisuke. Saga. Five desperate men. One of them isn’t going to survive. Read Chapter 20 Part 2 to find out who.

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Steam rose from the volcanic hot spring at the back of the inn at the edge of town. Most of the macaques, or snow monkeys as the locals called them, had already retired for the night, and finished enjoying their time in the warm water of the hot spring. The snow monkeys often came down to the inn’s hot spring when no humans were using it, or when the innkeeper’s two shiba inu were inside. Otane’s father, the innkeeper, bought the dogs to deter the monkeys. Even though the guests enjoyed the sight of the them in the spring, the monkeys often discouraged them from enjoying the waters.

When Hashi entered from the back of the inn, it was already dark and the hot spring was lit only by torchlight. He had washed and changed from his heavy winter clothes into a light yukata in a small room with a pump. Sliding open the door, Hashi waved his cane to find the stone path to the hot spring. The noise of him entering and the door slamming shut disturbed the lone male snow monkey, who had fallen asleep in the water. Hashi was careful with each step as the moisture had made the stones quite dangerous for a blind man. He slipped on a warm, wet stone, causing the fishbowl with his goldfish to splash some of the water onto the ground. Catching himself and regaining his balance, Hashi reached the edge of the onsen. He grinned as his cane hit the water and heard a splashing commotion across the pool.

“Sorry to disturb you,” Hashi said out loud, but nothing was said in return. Hearing the rustling of some bushes above, he turned his head to listen. “Sorry, snow monkey. You can come back again tomorrow.”

Hashi placed his goldfish away from the hot spring pool. It was close enough for the goldfish to stay warm from the cold and snow, but not so close he would boil. He turned the goldfish bowl toward a koi pond with running water that fed from a stream from the hot spring, thus regulating the temperature for the fish that lived within it. The goldfish turned from Hashi to stare longingly at the other goldfish in the pond below.

Hashi dropped his yukata and eased himself into the water. He had been looking forward to this and was eager to preen himself before stepping onto the main island of Japan.

“Hot, hot, hot,” he stammered until he submerged himself comfortably up to his neck. He let out a long sigh as he slipped into relaxation. The macaques on the rocky side of the mountain above looked down lazily at the blind man as he found a spot to rest his head against a rock and soak in the pool.

To Hashi’s surprise, he was only alone for a few moments. He had expected to have the pool to himself at such a late hour. So when the door slapped shut and geta tapped across the stones toward him, Hashi sat still to hear if he knew who it was. From the light clap of the wooden sandals and the short steps, Hashi discerned it was a woman. Unashamed of his nakedness, he remained still in the pool and listened for who it might be. The goldfish turned at the clap of the geta to find Otane as radiant as ever in a yukata. However, the goldfish found the koi in the pond far more interesting than any human female and circled back to the fish swimming freely in the pond.

“I’m sorry to disturb you, Hashi. I can leave so you can enjoy the onsen by yourself.”

“Otane-san? Oh no, let me leave so you can relax. You must have worked hard today,” Hashi said as he moved across the pool to give Otane her space.

“You’re completely blind, right?”

Hashi nodded.

“Then I see no reason we can’t enjoy the warm water together,” said Otane. “Besides, I’d rather not be alone.”

“Ah, maybe so, but others might consider it inappropriate.”

“Let others think what they will.”

“I’m not sure your father would be pleased with you bathing with a strange man alone.”

“You are not a strange man, you are our guest. And, as you said, you are completely blind.”

“That may be true, but in your father’s eyes I am still a man.”

Otane dropped her robe next to Hashi’s. She tested the waters with her toes. The gentle arch of her foot gave way to soft ankles of the purest white. Her calves were thin and her thighs supple. Had Hashi been able to see, he would have noticed the curve of her hips and the flatness of her stomach that lay like an open plain under her ample breasts. Her slight shoulders and long neck would have been a sight to send any man in Japan into a frenzy, as she had pinned her long black hair to avoid the water. Comfortable with the temperature, Otane slid into the hot spring without a sound, as if it were her natural environment and her natural temperature.

“This is the only time I feel truly warm.”

The two soaked in the water for some time until Hashi broke their silence. “It’s nice you can enjoy this anytime you want, Otane-san.”

“Yes, it feels so good after working all day,” Otane said.

Otane closed her eyes as she soaked, rubbing her neck and shoulders, she groaned from the pain.

“Is it true blind men make better masseuses than those who can see?”

“They say so, but I’ve never received a massage from any man, let alone a blind man.”

Otane giggled as she stretched her back and rolled her shoulders in discomfort. “Perhaps you could try and I will tell you if a blind man is better.”

She slid over to him through the water, barely breaking the surface as she put her back out to him, awaiting her massage.

“I don’t know, I…” Hashi mumbled as he reached out and pressed his fingers into the tightness along the lines of her neck leading into her shoulders. He massaged the way he had learned from his uncle and the women they had paid in their travels but was uncertain if it was having any effect until Otane moaned.

“Does it hurt?” asked Hashi.

“No, it feels good.”

Pleased to be of service, Hashi worked harder to relieve her tension as they soaked.

“Have you been blind since birth?”

“It developed when I was a child.”

“Then you remember what a woman looks like.”

“Of course, but I can often feel things and picture them in my mind.”

Otane slid back, closer against Hashi. Her back pressed against his chest.

“Do you remember what one feels like?”

Hashi inched away, uncomfortable with her closeness. “I am blind, not dead.”

Otane giggled as she slid back against him again. She pulled his hands to her breasts. “Why don’t you try to picture me, Hashi-kun?”

Hashi slid his hands back, unwilling to touch her any lower. He then slipped to the side, away from her.

“It’s true, blind men do give better massages,” said Otane. “I wonder what else they do better than men who can see?”

Hashi squirmed, uncomfortable with her questions and more so his thoughts of where this might lead.

“Do you have a woman you care for, Hashi-kun?”

“I am not meant to be with a woman. No woman would want a man like me.”

“Is that what you believe? That you are unworthy of love?” asked Otane. “It must be such a lonely life if you honestly believe that.”

Hashi laughed, “I have my uncle and my fish here to keep me company.”

Otane moved back next to him, shoulder to shoulder now.

“You don’t have to lie to me. I am lonely too. I have only known this small town my whole life.”

“Then you have many people who care for you.”

“I want to know something different. Someone different. Someplace other than here.”

She put her hand to his chest, causing Hashi to freeze even in the warm waters.

“Please, Hashi, take me with you and I’ll make sure you’re never lonely.”

Hashi took her hand and gently moved it back to her side.

“Otane-san, a woman of your beauty is too good for a cursed man like me.”

He inched away from her, but she moved in close to him, not letting him go.

“If you are blind, how do you know if I’m beautiful?”

“I can hear it in your voice. I can feel it in your shoulders. I can sense it when you walk. I know it by the touch of your hand. You are a beautiful woman, and you deserve much more than a lowly blind man like me.”

“You are too kind, Hashi. Any other man would have used me.”

Hashi rose from the hot spring, using the fishbowl to cover his crotch. The fish looked directly at Otane. She giggled again at the sight of the large, bright orange, googly-eyed fish staring straight at her from Hashi’s crotch.

“I should check on my uncle.” Hashi turned away to leave but turned back one last time. “Thank you for your kindness, Otane, but I am not worthy of it.”

He then hurried off with his yukata to the changing room, leaving Otane alone soaking in the hot spring.

Up Next: Conrad returns to Boss Mangoro’s compound to collect his gold and his freedom, but he doesn’t bargain on a samurai in a den of gangsters.

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Boss Mangoro hated samurai. He hated them as much as Saga and possibly more. What he unequivocally hated about them was that they were the law of the land, and they went even further with it, becoming a law unto themselves. They walk the streets too proud, and used their moral superiority to take advantage of others. The arrogance of the samurai infuriated him. Who were they to act as judge, jury and executioner of anyone who crossed their path? At least we yakuza, Boss Mangoro thought, were honest about our intentions.

With that floating in his head, Boss Mangoro was in no mood to meet strangers, and certainly not samurai. He had drunk enough the night before with Conrad and was still recovering from their revelry. So when three samurai came calling at his compound that evening, he suspected they had come about the foreign ship. It was always a concern to deal with the authorities, especially those he didn’t know. He had paid off the local government and supplied them with enough gifts to look the other way, but these samurai, he was told, were Southerners. In Ezochi, everyone from the outside was a southerner, and to Boss, it meant only one thing, they were trouble.

To that end, he stalled the samurai by having them wait for a meeting with him while he had more of his men brought in just in case there was a problem. He had all his men fully armed and hidden throughout the compound where the samurai could not see them. If there was a problem, these men would be ready to rush in. Those he brought with him to meet the samurai would have their swords, but they also hid various knives and daggers on themselves to fight in the close quarters. Outside, he had men surround the compound with pikes and naginata, a long spear-like weapon with a blade at its end. This way, they could keep their distance from the samurai and trap them inside if necessary. Still, he wished he had more of Conrad’s guns so he could deal with these samurai simply and cleanly in case things turned ugly, which it usually did between samurai and yakuza.

Tetsu sat before Boss Mangoro, thinking how demeaning it was for him to enlist the help of a yakuza. He knew he was close, and rather than let the opportunity slip through his fingers, he was willing to degrade himself to get their help. He didn’t want his presence known to the local samurai as he didn’t want word of his mission to get out. Oddly, he knew the yakuza would keep his secret, at least if he paid them the right amount. So Tetsu sat before Boss Mangoro with Shinpachi and Isamu, behind him, making sure not to show his contempt.

“We’ve come to you, Boss Mangoro, to request your assistance in finding someone,” Tetsu began.

“There are few travelers through here until spring. Who could you be looking for?”

Tetsu squirmed slightly as he said, “We seek a blind man who we have heard wanders these parts with an old samurai.”

Boss Mangoro belly-laughed until all his men were laughing with him. Tetsu and his two subordinates simmered with anger as he believed they were ridiculing him, but he needed Boss and his men. He couldn’t let this opportunity be lost.

Unable to tolerate their laughter a second more, Tetsu blurted out, “If you cannot help us, we will go.”

“No, no, sit samurai. It is not that. It is funny you come to us because I may know who you seek. There has been a pesky blind man and a samurai who have been robbing my gambling dens.”

Tetsu’s eyes widened. “Bring them to me. I will end your troubles.”

Boss sat back as he groaned, “Ummm, it is easier said than done. You see, we seek the bastards as well but have not yet found them.”

Shinpachi leaned forward, handed Tetsu a purse of coins from his kimono sleeve. Tetsu tossed the purse between himself and Boss.

“Help me, and I will double this when I have both their heads.”

Boss nodded to one of the younger yakuza, who swooped in to snatch the purse, then passed it to Boss. Boss fingered the purse, impressed with its hefty weight. Opening it, he let his fingers run over the gold inside and mentally calculated how much was there. He grinned the grin of greed as he turned to his henchmen.

“Find the blind man and samurai. Bring them to me, dead or alive.”

Boss’ second in command bowed, then shouted to his minions.

“You heard Boss Mangoro. Go! Find them!”

There was a great commotion as the gangsters rallied their men in the back of the compound. Shoji doors slammed open and closed as the gangsters armed themselves with weapons to hunt their prey. Boss sat staring at the three samurai with his slimy catfish grin.

“You came to the right place, samurai. We will deliver them to you.”

Tetsu nodded in appreciation, but showed no emotion.

“While you wait, perhaps you would like some saké and a companion for the night.”

Tetsu was loathed to share saké with a lowlife gangster like Boss Mangoro. He was disgusted by the fish-faced, small-time yakuza of this outpost town, but Tetsu, wisely, considered his position. He knew this gangster would know everything that happened in his territory and that he had the resources to locate Kinzo and Hashi. It was worth him losing a bit of honor and some gold if he could end his suffering in this frozen land.

“Thank you, Boss Mangoro. It would be my pleasure to share a cup of saké with you, but I will sleep alone tonight. My men though, are free to do as they please.”

Two women entered carrying a tray of saké. They poured for the three samurai and for Boss, who raised his cup to Tetsu.

“Kampai!”

The three samurai raised their saké back to him with a shout of, “Kampai!”

As the two serving girls left, one of the rough gangsters who guarded the women in the back of the compound entered, followed by six of the female prisoners. Isamu and Shinpachi smiled like starving wolves at the women who stood before them. The yakuza guard kneeled as the six women, ranging in age from seventeen to twenty-one, remained standing.

Boss Mangoro smiled at Shinpachi and Isamu, “Please, choose whichever whore you like.”

Up Next: Hashi tries to relax before they take the long journey south, but Otane interrupts him to reveal her intentions and desires…

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© 2026 SPQR Press. All rights reserved. A Calligraphy of Blood™ is a trademark of SPQR Press. No part of this work may be reproduced without permission.