The Eye of the Kami

It was sometime later that his consciousness returned to him. His head still rang from the blow, and he felt sick to his stomach. The first thing that he noticed was that he had been moved from the dark upper room where he had been captured by the Lieutenant and his men. He was now in a small, tatami-floored antechamber surrounded by sliding doors on each side. His hands were still bound by a thick cord, and he was flanked by two armed guards, with one guard behind him holding a bow with an arrow notched. The guard on his left was standing rigid as if he were made of stone and did not seem familiar. The guard to his right, however, was the heavy, teeth-rotted guard who he had argued with that morning at the gate. Gin could see that there was a malignant gleam in his eye as if he were about to derive great satisfaction from what was coming next.

There was nothing else of note in the room, but the tatami felt of superior quality, and the doors were designed with intricate images depicting ancient scenes of battle. Wherever he was, he reasoned, it was far away from the dirty houses on the north side of Kagiminato. The smell of rich incense filled his nostrils, and despite the intense pain searing on the left side of his skull and along his ribs, he could hear hushed voices from beyond the doors.

“It is as you say,” the raspy voice of the Lieutenant uttered. His voice carried louder than he probably intended, which was a trait typical of soldiers. “When he comes around, we will bring him before you.”

“He is ready!” the burly guard beside Gin cried out. “He just came to!”

“My lord, if I may…” another voice interjected from the other side. This voice was quieter and more tempered. It seemed to come from a man with age, as it had a dryness to it. Yet there was also considerable thought behind his words. “I do not think that this is a wise decision. Why do this here? If he was able to kill five of our men by himself, he might prove more troublesome than we anticipate.”

“Shigon,” a third voice said harshly. It was a quiet voice, but it carried like the crack of a whip. “Perhaps you have forgotten your place? I am the acting lord of Kagi now, and I do not care what privileges your former master allowed you. I did not ask you to speak. So why did you speak?”

“I apologize, my lord,” the older man said nervously. “It will not happen again.”

“It had better not. I do not need to convince you that I am more severe than your former master, now do I?”

“No, my lord.”

“Very well. Bring him in!”

The door opened from the inside, and the guards next to Gin heaved him up from under his shoulders and brought him to his feet. The man behind him nudged him in the back with the tip of his arrow, prodding him forward. He moved upon command and strode through the opened doors into a larger, more spacious room.

The room was dark, and only sparingly lit so that he could not see the far borders of the hall. But he could see two men ahead of him, kneeling below a shallow dais in the center. They gradually turned to look at him. One of them was the Lieutenant who eyed him smugly, as his eyes feasted on Gin’s fresh injuries. The other was a stooped old man in attendants’ robes. Atop of the dais knelt another man, who was staring at him balefully. He was not an intimidating man, being bald and thin, and his robes draped over him, making him seem small. He had rat-like features and wore a wispy black mustache and beard on his chin. However, for being so physically unimpressive, he was also wearing the robes of a daimyō.

“That is all that matters,” Gin thought, as he was forced back to his knees by his adjacent captors.

The man on the dais leaned forward to get a better look. “Are you sure this is him?” he asked after a few moments of careful inspection. There was a puzzled look on his face. “Is this the dirty peasant who overcame five of our men? This is who all the fuss is about?”

“He fits the description we were given,” the Lieutenant said. “And my consort vouches that this is him. They knew each other long ago during the war.”

The old, stooped attendant was looking at Gin with a strange expression. It was not with contempt like he expected, but intrigue.

The man on the dais sighed. “Tell me your name, peasant, and why you dared to come to this city after what you have done.”

Gin did not know what to do, and his head was still buzzing, so he said the first thing to come to his mind. “You are not Lord Kagi.”

Instantly, he received a swift kick to the stomach from the guard beside him, and he cowered over, writhing in pain.

“Enough!” the man on the dais commanded. “I wish to speak with this knave first.”

The guards lifted him to his knees once again and held him so that he had no choice but to look upon the man who rose from the dais floor. His attendants stood as he did, but kept their heads bowed in respect for their new leader.

“I am indeed not the former Lord Kagi. My name is Sagi Hiroto, and I serve at the pleasure of the Shōgun. He has appointed me to be the Steward of the Kagi Domain while the daimyō is spending his time in the capital. He will be there for the next few years, so while he is away, I am the acting lord of this province and everything in it.” He paused, and a smile flashed across his face. “It has come to my attention that you wantonly slew five soldiers in this province. That means that the task of handing down justice falls to me. Do you know what penalty befalls one who lifts his hand against the Shōgun or his daimyō’s soldiers?”

Gintaro was still breathing heavily from the blow but purposefully said nothing in reply.

Sagi waited for a few moments before he realized that his captive was not going to respond. The steward gracefully descended the dais and walked over, until he stood directly over him. He then bent over to look his prisoner in the eyes. He did not have to lean far, for Gin, even while kneeling was almost as tall as he was standing. The guards’ grip tightened around him, and he found that he could not budge even the slightest.

“It is death. And yet, I will not have you killed right away,” he whispered into Gin’s ear. With that, he produced a parchment from the inside of his robe. “This is a letter from an unnamed source that has come into my possession. It informs me, the Steward of the Kagi Domain, that the perpetrator may in due time come into this city. It requests that I do not hinder you in any way and that I leave you alone and let you go where you will. This includes ignoring any further harm you may cause.” At this Sagi’s face twisted with annoyance. “It is such an outlandish request that I am tempted to dismiss it as rubbish! For all I know, you may have written this thing. And yet I am unsettled. For at the very end, it says, ‘Failure to do so may incur extremely harmful consequences.’

Now who would have the power to threaten this but the Shōgun? It is possible that he might have written this message and not wanted his name attached to such designs, and thus has obscured himself. Even more, if the message is indeed from the Shōgun, then I should do well to harken to its contents.

However, it may also be a form of subterfuge by the former lord of this province to weaken me as I first begin my stewardship. He is not pleased to be uprooted from his native lands; I am sure. I am inclined to think that this is the case, for you may be a vile criminal who has escaped the Shōgun’s justice for many years. Capturing you may benefit me and letting you go free will make me seem a fool. So, I will ask you again, who are you and why have you come here?”

Gin blanched. He had considered that it might be the Shōgun who had initiated all of this. He indeed had the power and the resources to do it, but the question that remained was why? And if it were Lord Kagi, why now, after all those years of peaceful dwelling in his domain would he strike so hard a blow? But he said nothing and cast his face down towards the tatami floor.

At this, Sagi leaned back and there was a sinister gleam in his eye. “So that is how it is going to be, Gin-san?” he snapped. “Yes, I know your pathetic name. I know much more than you think, but not quite enough. There is something strange going on here, something I cannot put a finger on. But I shall know it in due time. I will not let you merely slip through my fingers without knowing the full meaning behind all of this. Now that I am the steward, I intend to restore this province to its former glory, and part of that is seizing any opportunity that may cross my path. This may be my first chance to do so.”

Sagi handed the scroll to the Lieutenant. “Burn it,” he commanded.

“What?” Gin cried. “Will you not let me go?”

“As far as all parties here are concerned, I never received this letter,” Sagi continued, ascending the dais once again. “You will talk, or you will never leave this place!”

At this Gin’s blood froze in his veins. He could not allow it. His daughter was out there, somewhere. She needed to be saved. “My daughter!” he shouted all at once. “I came for my daughter!”

Sagi paused and turned back around. His eyes gleamed in the torchlight. “Daughter?”

“The merchant!” Gin cried, his voice was strained, and his words spilled out like a wave. “He took my daughter! The soldiers were working together with him. They tried to stop me. They let him get away! So, I...”

“So now we get to the heart of the matter. This merchant, do you know who he is?”

“No.”

“Do you know why he would want to take your daughter?”

Again, Gin repeated, “No,” but this time he felt unsure.

“I need you to consider harder, Gin-san. For this merchant is the missing key to this riddle. I need to know who he is and what he wants from you. I need to know how he was able to convince my soldiers to help him. And I want to know if he wrote that letter and if he did, why? I need to know what his designs are. Does he work for himself, or someone greater?”

Gin seemed to search for an answer in the air but finally shook his head. “I wish I knew.”

This was followed by a protracted silence. He could see the steward give his older attendant a keen glance, but the attendant merely looked down and away.

“Gin-san, are you sure it was your daughter with him and not someone else?”

Gin was taken aback by this particular question. “Yes, I saw her with my very eyes on the back of his steed.”

“Well, I have unfortunate news for you,” Sagi said in a mournful tone. “Your daughter is dead.”

“Dead?” Gin repeated, stiffening up.

The steward sighed and stroked his thin beard. “We had nearly caught the merchant and your daughter half a day’s march west of here. We had them surrounded at an inn, but the merchant you know so little of is a crafty fellow. He was able to escape us, but he did not leave with your daughter.”

“What do you mean?” Gin gasped.

“She was left…behind.”

Gintaro could not believe his ears. Could this be real? Was he dreaming? He could not remember himself ever being in a situation so dire. His head was still spinning from the blow he suffered earlier, and his stomach was spasming. But nothing compared to this horror. What was happening? How did it come to this?

“This merchant is a cruel man, but I am told that her death appeared quick, at the least,” Sagi explained, looking as though the thought pained him. “Help me find him, Gin, and discover his motives. This is the only way to avenge your poor, sweet daughter.”

At this Gin exploded in an uncontrollable fit of rage, but the guards were on him, and he could not move. He struggled, contorting his body, and writhed as best he could, but he could not get free. His energy was sapped by the devastating news.

“Do not worry, Gin-san,” Sagi continued. “You will not share your daughter’s fate. We will spend a great deal of time together, you and I, and you will tell me everything about yourself. Together, we will unravel this mystery and figure out why you are being used as a pawn in a great game for great men. But if you fail to educate me, there will be intense punishment. Of that, you can be sure.”

He said nothing, but merely let his head drop. He stopped resisting. He stopped everything. He tried to stop breathing. He tried to stop his mind from processing what he had just heard. Tremendous grief had fallen upon him, crushing him into dust.

“Disappointing,” Sagi remarked, shaking his head. “Well, I suppose you should take him away. But keep him safe. He is our precious guest after all, and there is much to discuss. In the end, if we can get this right, the Shōgun will put more confidence in us, perhaps, and aid us when it comes to ridding this city of all the other vermin.”

The guards, now assisted by a few others who emerged from the darkness, lifted Gin to his feet and dragged his limp body from the chamber. Although he knew that he was heading towards incalculable pain, he did not care. There was nothing worse than what had already been done. Death was, in a way, a fate too lenient. Perhaps he deserved the torture that was coming. He had failed his wife, his best friend, his teacher, and now his daughter. He had never been able to help any of them. His entire life had been such a waste. So many had suffered because of him. This way was the only way. This end was the most fitting.

“I deserve this,” he thought. “I deserve all this pain. That is the only thing left for me before I leave this world.”