HATE AND HONOUR: THE MIND OF A KILLER
PRELUDE
PART ONE
**************************************************
The sun hung low over the horizon, illuminating the landscape in an
eery, blood red glow.
Clip. Clop. Clip. Clop.
The horses travelled slowly along the dirt road, their flanks and
legs covered with wounds, their heads hanging low towards the ground.
Their riders were not much better off. Their armour hung loosely
from their bodies and many sported gaping wounds hastily covered with
blood soaked bandages. All were covered from head to toe from the
white dust which swept through the desolate parched landscape.
However, except for those so seriously wounded that they could barely
sit on their horses, all of the soldiers sat with their backs straight
and their heads held high.
They were samurai after all.
At the front of the hundred strong column of walking wounded rode the
group's commander. He was an old man in his fifties, with greying
hair, though that was hidden under the ever present white dust, and a
craggy weather-worn face. He was only of average height and build
yet the gentle brown eyes framed by a thicket of bushy eyebrows besoke
of a quick intelligence and an inner steel that was almost frightening
in its intensity.
Behind him rode a young man who looked to be about twenty. His smooth
youthful face was yet to be marred by battle scars or age and his eyes
shone with a gentle dreaminess. Yet the way he held his body, the
lines around his eyes and full lips showed that this dreamer was well
acquainted with the horrors of reality.
"Have you ever seen such a red sunset before, Captain Asuhara?"
The young man looked startled for a moment at the sound of the
General's voice. Quickly recovering, he smiled.
"No I don't think I have." He looked around for a moment. "Its the
dust I think. After all, this place is in the middle of its worse
drought since the beginning of the Shogunate. The lack of moisture
means that there is nothing to bind the dust to the Earth, and with
today's high winds..."
He paused for a moment as if considering something.
"You know I've never noticed it before but I think this is the reason
why everyone was so edgy yesterday evening when we first entered this
area. Our horses are battle horses so they are used to seeing
blood everywhere and they're not easily spooked but yesterday it was
if they could sense something.....evil. Of course they're too exhausted
to do anything now. But," he paused giving a pointed glance at the column
some distance back. "It wasn't just the horses."
"Yes," the General agreed. "A dead land and a dying sun spewing out
its life blood. Whenever I look at the land I think that I am
floating in a neverending sea of blood. This is hell..."
"And we are the demons," mused the younger man. The General looked
startled. He turned to face him. Their brown eyes met in
confrontation. "Are we scared of the land or of ourselves? Covered
with this white dust and in this light we all look like demons.
Could it be that our consciences are punishing us for what we did
back at that village?"
The older man's lips thinned and his eyes flashed dangerously.
"Natsu, you go too far. Those people were traitors...."
"They were women and children!"
"They were traitors. We are the Shogun's elite troops. Our
ancestors all swore an oath to him. To keep our honour we must do
whatever he orders no matter how personally distastful we find it."
"So we live our lives for the Shogun? Do we mean nothing without
the Shogun? So what we think, what we feel, do they all mean
nothing, Father?" Natsu Asuhara spate out.
"No we do not live for the Shogun. We live for honour and nothing
else and this is what honour demands. As your Father I can forgive
this outburst. Fortunately we are far ahead of the rest of the column
so I don't think anyone else heard this discussion. But what you
said is tantamount to treason and if the Shogun declares you a
traitor..." His eyes narrowed. "Do not think that because I am your
father that I will not be prepared to hunt you down."
Natsu cast his father a distasteful look. "Despite what you think
Father I understand honour all too well." He turned his horse around.
"I want to go and check on some of the men."
The General snorted. "Foolish boy...but he's right. I do these things
for honour but..." he rubbed his hands roughly. Everyone thought
that it was just a nervous habit but he knew better. In his mind
his hands were dirty, unclean, but it was a dirtiness that he knew
he could never erase, no matter how much he cleaned his hands.
He held his dust covered hands out in front of him where the blood
red sunlight made it look like his hands were covered with blood.
In his mind he could feel the warm liquid slip through his
fingers, he could taste the sharp metallic taste of blood that had
been his constant companion these last forty years. Everything he
ate and drank tasted like blood. Of their own accord he started
to rub his hands together again but he knew that he could never
clean off the blood for it was not his body that was stained but
his mind and soul.
Honour. All for honour as he reminded himself daily. Compared to
what he had done for the Shogun, for honour in his long life,
killing those villagers had been nothing. Honour that was all that
mattered.
Unconsciously he started to rub his hands again.
*******************************************************************
A short time later a cloud of dust appeared on the horizon. All the
men in the column stiffened, readying their katanas. However they
all relaxed as they saw it was just a scout returning to make his
report.
Stopping his horse in a huge cloud of dust, the scout dismounted.
Walking over to General Asuhara he bowed before making his report.
"General, we found the village exactly where the map said we would.
But..." the scout looked down at the ground.
"But...?" asked the General.
"Almost everyone in the village is dead."
A strained silence passed over the small group of officers gathered
to hear the scout's report.
"How did they die?" asked one of the officers, a big burly man
with a loud boisterous voice. His name was Ina Natsume.
"We think it was disease?"
"Is it contagious?" asked another officer, Hino Chikafusa
"No. We think that it was some disease you get by drinking bad water.
Cholera maybe. There's supposed to be a large river which runs by the
village but because of the draught it is now only the size of a creek.
There were a lot of dead bodies floating in the water."
He paused for a moment before continuing. "It looked as
if they were casulties from that large battle we fought against the
insurgents more than a week ago."
The General started speaking in his usual calm smooth voice "But
there should be well in the middle of the village. Its a very
deep well fed by underground springs. Surely..."
The scout and all of the officers looked at the General in surprise.
"Well...yes there was what looked like a well but it was covered with
heavy iron doors and chains. For some reason it ws locked up so
the villagers couldn't use it."
The General's eyes narrowed. "Kajahara Gendo," he stated quietly
almost to himself.
Ina growled softly. "That bastard. He's the lord of this area isn't
he? It would be just like him to lock up the well even though there's
probably enough for him and the villagers."
Hino nodded in agreement. "He probably kept the well water himself
and forced the villagers to drink from the river, no matter that
the water was probably dirty and brackish."
"And then we sent all those bodies down the river." stated the
younger Asuhara softly.
An uncomfortable silence fell over the group.
"And, there is nothing we can do about Kajahara's treatment of his
villagers because according to law they are his serfs and he can
do whatever he bloody likes with them as they are his property.
Isn't that right General?" Asuhara Natsu gave his father a pointed
look which the older man returned unblinkingly.
The General looked thoughtfully at the scout, rubbing his hand gently
together. "You said that *almost* everyone was dead. How many
survived?"
The scout suddenly found his feet very interesting. "Um...just one.
A boy about 8 years old."
General Asuhara lifted one bushy eyebrow. "And...? You're leaving
something out Marubeni."
"Well, the boy did gave us a slight bit of trouble..."
**********************************************************************
PRELUDE
PART ONE
**************************************************
The sun hung low over the horizon, illuminating the landscape in an
eery, blood red glow.
Clip. Clop. Clip. Clop.
The horses travelled slowly along the dirt road, their flanks and
legs covered with wounds, their heads hanging low towards the ground.
Their riders were not much better off. Their armour hung loosely
from their bodies and many sported gaping wounds hastily covered with
blood soaked bandages. All were covered from head to toe from the
white dust which swept through the desolate parched landscape.
However, except for those so seriously wounded that they could barely
sit on their horses, all of the soldiers sat with their backs straight
and their heads held high.
They were samurai after all.
At the front of the hundred strong column of walking wounded rode the
group's commander. He was an old man in his fifties, with greying
hair, though that was hidden under the ever present white dust, and a
craggy weather-worn face. He was only of average height and build
yet the gentle brown eyes framed by a thicket of bushy eyebrows besoke
of a quick intelligence and an inner steel that was almost frightening
in its intensity.
Behind him rode a young man who looked to be about twenty. His smooth
youthful face was yet to be marred by battle scars or age and his eyes
shone with a gentle dreaminess. Yet the way he held his body, the
lines around his eyes and full lips showed that this dreamer was well
acquainted with the horrors of reality.
"Have you ever seen such a red sunset before, Captain Asuhara?"
The young man looked startled for a moment at the sound of the
General's voice. Quickly recovering, he smiled.
"No I don't think I have." He looked around for a moment. "Its the
dust I think. After all, this place is in the middle of its worse
drought since the beginning of the Shogunate. The lack of moisture
means that there is nothing to bind the dust to the Earth, and with
today's high winds..."
He paused for a moment as if considering something.
"You know I've never noticed it before but I think this is the reason
why everyone was so edgy yesterday evening when we first entered this
area. Our horses are battle horses so they are used to seeing
blood everywhere and they're not easily spooked but yesterday it was
if they could sense something.....evil. Of course they're too exhausted
to do anything now. But," he paused giving a pointed glance at the column
some distance back. "It wasn't just the horses."
"Yes," the General agreed. "A dead land and a dying sun spewing out
its life blood. Whenever I look at the land I think that I am
floating in a neverending sea of blood. This is hell..."
"And we are the demons," mused the younger man. The General looked
startled. He turned to face him. Their brown eyes met in
confrontation. "Are we scared of the land or of ourselves? Covered
with this white dust and in this light we all look like demons.
Could it be that our consciences are punishing us for what we did
back at that village?"
The older man's lips thinned and his eyes flashed dangerously.
"Natsu, you go too far. Those people were traitors...."
"They were women and children!"
"They were traitors. We are the Shogun's elite troops. Our
ancestors all swore an oath to him. To keep our honour we must do
whatever he orders no matter how personally distastful we find it."
"So we live our lives for the Shogun? Do we mean nothing without
the Shogun? So what we think, what we feel, do they all mean
nothing, Father?" Natsu Asuhara spate out.
"No we do not live for the Shogun. We live for honour and nothing
else and this is what honour demands. As your Father I can forgive
this outburst. Fortunately we are far ahead of the rest of the column
so I don't think anyone else heard this discussion. But what you
said is tantamount to treason and if the Shogun declares you a
traitor..." His eyes narrowed. "Do not think that because I am your
father that I will not be prepared to hunt you down."
Natsu cast his father a distasteful look. "Despite what you think
Father I understand honour all too well." He turned his horse around.
"I want to go and check on some of the men."
The General snorted. "Foolish boy...but he's right. I do these things
for honour but..." he rubbed his hands roughly. Everyone thought
that it was just a nervous habit but he knew better. In his mind
his hands were dirty, unclean, but it was a dirtiness that he knew
he could never erase, no matter how much he cleaned his hands.
He held his dust covered hands out in front of him where the blood
red sunlight made it look like his hands were covered with blood.
In his mind he could feel the warm liquid slip through his
fingers, he could taste the sharp metallic taste of blood that had
been his constant companion these last forty years. Everything he
ate and drank tasted like blood. Of their own accord he started
to rub his hands together again but he knew that he could never
clean off the blood for it was not his body that was stained but
his mind and soul.
Honour. All for honour as he reminded himself daily. Compared to
what he had done for the Shogun, for honour in his long life,
killing those villagers had been nothing. Honour that was all that
mattered.
Unconsciously he started to rub his hands again.
*******************************************************************
A short time later a cloud of dust appeared on the horizon. All the
men in the column stiffened, readying their katanas. However they
all relaxed as they saw it was just a scout returning to make his
report.
Stopping his horse in a huge cloud of dust, the scout dismounted.
Walking over to General Asuhara he bowed before making his report.
"General, we found the village exactly where the map said we would.
But..." the scout looked down at the ground.
"But...?" asked the General.
"Almost everyone in the village is dead."
A strained silence passed over the small group of officers gathered
to hear the scout's report.
"How did they die?" asked one of the officers, a big burly man
with a loud boisterous voice. His name was Ina Natsume.
"We think it was disease?"
"Is it contagious?" asked another officer, Hino Chikafusa
"No. We think that it was some disease you get by drinking bad water.
Cholera maybe. There's supposed to be a large river which runs by the
village but because of the draught it is now only the size of a creek.
There were a lot of dead bodies floating in the water."
He paused for a moment before continuing. "It looked as
if they were casulties from that large battle we fought against the
insurgents more than a week ago."
The General started speaking in his usual calm smooth voice "But
there should be well in the middle of the village. Its a very
deep well fed by underground springs. Surely..."
The scout and all of the officers looked at the General in surprise.
"Well...yes there was what looked like a well but it was covered with
heavy iron doors and chains. For some reason it ws locked up so
the villagers couldn't use it."
The General's eyes narrowed. "Kajahara Gendo," he stated quietly
almost to himself.
Ina growled softly. "That bastard. He's the lord of this area isn't
he? It would be just like him to lock up the well even though there's
probably enough for him and the villagers."
Hino nodded in agreement. "He probably kept the well water himself
and forced the villagers to drink from the river, no matter that
the water was probably dirty and brackish."
"And then we sent all those bodies down the river." stated the
younger Asuhara softly.
An uncomfortable silence fell over the group.
"And, there is nothing we can do about Kajahara's treatment of his
villagers because according to law they are his serfs and he can
do whatever he bloody likes with them as they are his property.
Isn't that right General?" Asuhara Natsu gave his father a pointed
look which the older man returned unblinkingly.
The General looked thoughtfully at the scout, rubbing his hand gently
together. "You said that *almost* everyone was dead. How many
survived?"
The scout suddenly found his feet very interesting. "Um...just one.
A boy about 8 years old."
General Asuhara lifted one bushy eyebrow. "And...? You're leaving
something out Marubeni."
"Well, the boy did gave us a slight bit of trouble..."
**********************************************************************