VII– Interference
Japan, 1600.
The leaves rustled under the feet. The atmosphere was wet and humid. Heat scorched him, but he kept on walking. Aimlessly, with no fixed purpose. A stranger in a faraway land, eyes so different, clothes so different to the inhabitants. A kilt and a clothing of skin were so unique in this land, and it made him long for home again.
He strode through a forest, lured by something. Something ominous that yet was beyond his understanding, one of many things that had came along with immortality: that disturbing sensation that made his blood stir and his body seek for another like him. He was able to control it, though he knew that one day he wouldn't.
Voices could be heard, speaking in the impossible to understand Japanese language. He drew nearer, feeling the sensation reach his brain, causing odd premonitions to fill it. He tightened the grip on the yak-skinned scabbard that folded his katana, probably the only thing he had in common with that country, so different to his Scotland.
He went past a tree and halted, contemplating a very extravagant scene. There were three men alone. One was kneeling on the ground. In his hands he held a small knife, one that the reminded the stranger of a dirk a friend had given him once. One of the others backed off a few steps, while the other stood close to the knelt man.
"Mother of God... what is this?" he wanted to know. The man on his knees overheard him and glimpsed at first, then stared.
"Kappa! Kappa!" he stammered, his whole body bursting into a frantic reaction. The stranger hid behind a tree and passed unnoticed, and kept peeking in at the scene.
The man apart from the other two commented something. The other shook his head sympathetically, then uttered something that seemed to calm the kneeling man, who took a deep breath and adopted a stiff stance.
He felt the presence of the immortal becoming closer. Too close for comfort. He glanced backwards and found a longhaired man, slightly different from the Japanese he had met – all of whom looked the same, -wearing a curved hat, staring at him distrustingly. In his hands he bore no weapon.
"I'm Connor MacLeod of the clan MacLeod." The outlander introduced himself. The other muttered a name that he didn't understand and his eyes moved to the scene. "What's going on?" Connor asked, giving his voice the tone obvious for such a question, if any tone would fit.
"Seppuku," was the whispered answer.
As he tried to understand what in tarnation that meant, the kneeling man squeezed the hilt of the knife and held it at chest-height, its tip pointed at his stomach. A grim, nauseating sensation invaded Connor. Then the man plunged the knife fiercely against his own stomach. A deaf whine from his mouth followed as he twisted it, ensuring the laceration of his guts, and dragged the blade through his belly. Blood and intestines began to land on his lap.
Images of the death of his friend Nakano haunted him instantly. Nakano had died on his knees, suffering a vicious stab from Kane. Then Kane had beheaded him. But Nakano was a sorcerer, and as such, he used the bulk of his power, unleashed upon his beheading, to make the cave they were in collapse, burying Kane and his henchmen for eternity.
He had been ordered away, and a tiny part of Nakano's power reached him, and with it the images of the sorcerer's death. Connor had been shattered, and was unwilling to let somebody else die helplessly again. He moved forward, having seen the man next to the suicidal beginning to draw his sword out of its scabbard.
The other man was too far away to stop him. The armed man had his sword raised to the sky, and he lashed neatly at the neck of the other, so focused on his task that he didn't see Connor approaching, not until his blow was diverted by a strong piece of skin.
"Kinjiru!" he bellowed in dread as Connor pushed him away. The suicidal let out a weak cry and fell without life to the floor. The one apart from them had already drawn out his sword. Connor dragged them to a clear spot a few steps behind him. The others were staring in horror at him. The Highlander shot a glance at the longhaired man, who had been watching all the time, as now he did, a gesture of curiosity in his face.
One of the men chopped at him swiftly and skilfully. Connor grasped the tiger-shaped hilt of his katana and pulled upward to block the blow. The deafened sound of metals colliding echoed for miles. The man stared in disbelief. Connor kicked him in his loins to push him away. The other struck without delay, a lateral blow aimed at slashing his chest. The Highlander removed the skinned scabbard at the speed of sound and delivered a strong counterattack against the katana of his opponent. The Japanese's sword flew away and Connor ducked to stab him deeply, if awkwardly. The man gasped as blood flowed down his lips.
But the other Japanese was coming again. Connor was unable to draw off his sword in time. The Asian raised the sword to the heavens as he stormed forward. Connor stood and when the other bent his arms forward to cut, he grasped the sword from the Japanese's hands and stole it, making a full twist to slash his back mortally.
The Japanese fell dead. Connor dropped the sword and stared in dread for a second at the image of his own doing. He sighed profoundly before he removed his katana from the corpse. Then the other immortal spoke.
"Very well. But now I must kill you." The words were clear to Connor. Perhaps because of the two Asian immortals he had fought and beheaded before his path and Nakano's crossed.
"Who are you?" he demanded, a little turned-on by being able to engage in a chat.
"My name is Jin Ke." The man approached. "You, Connor MacLeod, have dishonoured this man" he pointed at the man that had stabbed himself "and all his line."
"Me?" Connor touched his chest to emphasise. "How?"
"That man was samurai. He was granted the opportunity to commit seppuku, a ritual in which a man's stained honour's redeemed before departing to the skies and back as a new being." Jin Ke picked a sword from the man Connor had impaled and removed it roughly. "His name is dishonoured for eternity. And I will do my best to cleanse even an ounce of it."
Jin Ke made the sword spin in his hands. Connor squeezed the grip of his katana and struck. His first blow missed by nothing, the second one ran afoul of his opponent, and the third and final one met the other's blade. Jin Ke held him for a second before retreating quickly and leaping above Connor's missing chop to land behind the Highlander and thrust deeply in his back.
Connor gasped, feeling the pain scorching every inch of his body. He felt his heartbeat increase and the images of his life in Scotland invaded him again. The Highlands. What he wouldn't give to return, to visit his bonny Heather's grave, right where he had left his claymore to mark it?
Jin Ke removed the sword from his body and Connor fell. His wish of life made him try to protect himself from the Asian by raising his sword to cover his neck, however lame and useless an attempt it was.
But something made Ke retreat. He stared at Connor's katana. The Highlander saw how the Asian put down the sword and tossed it away, grinning with a strange air of serenity. Connor's wound didn't hurt anymore, so he rose.
"What...?" he gasped, still shocked.
"It is the sword of Tak-Ne, neh? Forged by the master Masamune?"
The question unbalanced Connor. Tak-Ne was the original name of his mentor and friend, the late Juan Sanchez Villalobos Ramirez, the Spanish peacock. There was only one way this man could have known that.
"Yes."
"How did you obtain it?"
"He's dead." Connor stiffened.
"By you?"
"By the Kurgan." Connor grunted, feeling a strange anger soaring from within.
"It is a pity. He saved my life once, and refused my offer for permanent service. I've owed him ever since. However much I despise you, Connor MacLeod of the clan MacLeod..." Jin Ke stopped to crack his knuckles "... my duty to him is first to my duty to this man's honour." He moved past Connor, stopping right at his back. "But I curse you and all your line of honourless barbarians. The next time we meet, I will not be bound."
Connor felt his knees trembling. He had been so close to death, and so defenceless against that Jin Ke. If he couldn't defeat such a tiny man, what chance he had against the Kurgan? He needed to improve his training. Ramirez' training had done his part. Nakano's training too. Ramirez had once mentioned an Otavio Consone that lived in Italy, a gifted swordsman from whom Connor might be able to learn some more things.
Connor MacLeod decided to leave Asia and head for Europe again. As he treaded away, he felt the need again. He would visit Italy, but he would then go to Scotland. Something told him someone needed him there...
AUTHOR'S NOTE: "Kinjiru" means something like "forbidden" in Japanese. "Kappa" is similar to "demon. The other words are, from my point of view, explained, so writing anything else here would be futile. Jin Ke's presence's meant to justify a little more his alliance with Kell.