Echoes of a Shattered Age

by R. J. Terrell

  Kenjiro shrugged. “My apologies. You looked uncomfortable wearing those fancy swords, so I took the liberty of disarming you.”

  “We mean no trouble here,” Akemi said. “We wish only to rest, buy supplies, and move on. May we please seek shelter within your walls?”

  With the humble request of the female traveler, and the other traveler’s obvious effort to conceal his nausea for his sister’s humbleness, the two guards grudgingly stepped aside and allowed the travelers to enter. Kenjiro noticed the pained look on the two men. They really had not much choice and they knew it. Kenjiro could have had one of them dead in an instant.

  Akemi smiled and tipped her head to the guard and entered, followed by her irritated brother. “What happened to the gentle tolerance of the samurai?” she teased.

  “I follow no lord,” her brother responded.

  “And so that reduces you to a ronin bandit? What of Bushido and honor?”

  “What of it?” the samurai quipped.

  “Was that honorable, back there?”

  “That was necessary,” Kenjiro answered. “And as far as the way of the ronin is concerned, perhaps I will educate you, but not today.”

  “I look forward to it, brother,” Akemi said.

  Kenjiro grunted.

  * * *

  Admiring the beautiful landscape of the constantly changing world, the two friends moved about the foliage and the open fields on a fast trek toward the city of Nijika. Riding on horseback gave them a much-welcomed rest after the trials they had faced while crossing through Korea and the race to the shores of Japan.

  “Hey Ken,” Kita called from behind. “How far do you think we have until we reach this place?”

  Kenyatta shrugged. “The man at Yamada who give us these horses say that it take a full day with their caravan. Witout the extra load and pushing straight tru, we should make it by night.”

  “That’s fine by me,” Kita replied. “I’m wiped out. Besides, we can replenish our food and gear.”

  At dusk, the travelers came to the front of the city of Nijika and stopped at a tree line sprinkled with large rocks. It was small for a city and surrounded by a wall over a dozen feet high. At the front stood two tall double doors made of solid iron, and flanked by four guards. At the edge of each end of the walls stood single watchtowers with two men in each.

  The travelers looked at each other and back at the well-guarded city. They knew that the chances of talking their way into an obviously wary place were slim.

  “I think we should consider slipping in,” Kita recommended. “The place doesn’t seem ready to welcome outsiders.”

  “Looks paranoid,” Kenyatta agreed as he watched the guards. “We should wait for night, then slip in from one of the far ends away from the front.”

  Kita nodded and they set camp, awaiting nightfall concealed in the trees.

  * * *

  Their search for a suitable inn brought the samurai and his sister to an old western-style tavern. The common room was spacious and open, furnished with western style wooden tables and chairs. Neither of the two warriors cared much for the place, but the location was prime because of its view of the rest of the village, and the proximity to the gates.

  “I hope you are happy, sister,” Kenjiro remarked. “This place reeks of lust and the trifling existence of sheep being led by their day instead of leading it themselves.”

  The young ninja shook her head and sighed. “Always the sharp observer. Let’s just enjoy our stay and rest. These people have no business with us, nor we with them.” She walked over to her brother and laid a hand on his shoulder, smiling like the devious little girl that had been such a challenge to keep out of trouble. His brow creased. Akemi laughed.

  After securing their room, and arguing with Kenjiro about sharing a room for efficiency instead of having separate ones, Akemi put her hand on her stomach and prodded the samurai with an elbow. “Come, let’s see if this quaint little village has some decent food.”

  With her brother in tow, the woman descended the stairs and filtered through the crowd toward the door. Although every man in the tavern moved aside and gaped as the soft and smooth material flowed across her seductive figure in a dance all its own, one pair of eyes seemed to concentrate intensely on the young warrior. Kenjiro sensed that they were being watched and was sure that his sister felt the same.

  As they neared the door, a bulky man stepped out and barred their way. It was obvious to Akemi from the start that he could not be from anywhere local, as he was rotund and sloppy, and had on dirty denim pants and a leather vest that was too small for his girth.

  He stood over six feet tall and seemed just as wide, and wore the scraggly beginnings of a beard, and had long greasy black hair tied behind his back. Underneath his vest was a tattoo that looked as if it wrapped across his chest to his back. The little she could see from the front was of a serpent preparing to swallow a smaller animal, of which kind Akemi was unsure. She stopped a few feet in front of the giant and eyed him. So crusty were his black denim pants that they looked as though they could stand on their own without the wearer. His black boots were surprisingly shiny and clean.

  “You are a round one,” Akemi said. “Couldn’t find a shirt big enough to fit, hmm?”

  The barrel-chested took a step forward. “Who you are?” he demanded in a ragged voice, and it surprised the ninja that he actually spoke her language, despite where he might be from. “None seen you here before and we don’t welcome strange ones like you passing in and out of here.”

  “We are merely travelers passing through and not wanting any trouble.” She glanced over her shoulder at her brother, whose sword hand had gone very still. “If we may, please allow us to pass.”

  The mountain of a man looked down on her and smirked. “Maybe your friend there won’t mind if I charge a price for your passage.”

  “Name it,” Akemi agreed.

  “You come to my room and …” he stopped short at the woman’s cold, smiling stare. The one behind her, who was not so subtle, was now gripping the hilt of his sword despite his casual stance.

  “I would take careful consideration of my next words if I were you,” the woman cautioned. The fire that burned in her eyes and the happy tone in her voice were not lost on the big man. After a bit of consideration, he scanned the bar and noticed that every gaze in the tavern was fixed on the three of them.

  “Quite a position you have created for yourself, my giant friend,” the ninja remarked. “You have a dilemma, don’t you? On one hand, you can stay there and we will cut you down like a boar. On the other hand, you can step aside and live, but with damaged status as the big tough boy in here.” She tapped her smooth, pointed chin and let out a half smile. “Decisions, decisions.”

  Kenjiro glared up at the large man. “Step aside while you can still walk.”

  At that ultimatum the giant man reached to his right and pulled what looked like a club from under his chair with a mighty swing. Spectators grabbed their drinks and cleared away to give the trio plenty of room. Before everyone had gotten a safe distance away, however, the round giant dropped to his knees and slumped over, clutching his groin as the two warriors stepped around him and out the door.

  ***

  Chapter Twenty

  Life began to stir in Nijika just before dawn. Because it was so large by the standards of a village, businesses had to be competitive just as in a larger city. The predawn blue of morning slowly brightened as the sun crested the mountains far to the east. The streets came alive as children scurried off to schools, and adults tended shops, perused the marketplace, and foreigners milled about.

  Kenyatta stood on the balcony of their room and watched the place come to life. It reminded him of home and his life as a child with Grampa.

  “You’re not gonna get all teary eyed on me, are you?” Kita said from across the room. Kenyatta glanced over his shoulder to see his friend chuckling as he slipped on a pair of sandy-colored moccasin-style shoes.<
br />
  “Why don’t you find some business of your own and stay outta mine, ya?” Kenyatta shot back.

  “Hey, easy now,” Kita laughed. “No harm meant, just joking.”

  “Ya man, I’m knowin’ that. I’m kind of edgy today, that’s all. Last night my sister came to me.”

  Kita’s eyes lit up. “What did you talk about?”

  “Hmm.” Kenyatta eyed his friend suspiciously. “Looks like me gettin’ your undivided attention now, ya?”

  Kenyatta sat down on the corner of his bed and ran his fingers through his shoulder-length locks. “She say she gonna visit us when we get to Kyokoza and that is where she’s going to deal with our weapons.”

  “Ok,” Kita replied. “So why the distressed look? I would think that should be good news.” Kenyatta looked over at his friend from the window.

  “She also said that she’s going to fill us in on what’s going on and that when we leave Kyokoza our mission will truly begin. She says that everything up to now was just a bit of training and was nothing compared to what’s ahead of us.”

  At the sight of his friend gathering up a small pack and a few concealed weapons, Kenyatta raised an eyebrow. “Where are you planning on going?”

  Kita smirked. “I don’t plan on missing the chance to mingle and enjoy our little stay before we take to the road again.”

  Kenyatta’s mood brightened at the mention of fun. “Ya man, count me in.”

  They strode through the streets of Nijika, buying supplies and gear, as well as a few trinkets that may or may not have possessed the properties the vendors claimed.

  “Amazing how times have changed from when we were little,” Kita said. He eyed a piece of armor that was light and thin, but sturdy. The shop owner explained that it had been created from a new species of tree that had a smooth and flexible bark, but was also as tough as steel and resistant to harsh weather conditions. The best part about the process was that one tree could be used multiple times. The bark need only be stripped away during the summer months so that the tree would have time to grow more for the cold seasons.

  “Hey, Ken,” Kita asked. “What do you think about this armor?”

  Kenyatta inspected the unusual piece. It was flexible yet tough, as the shop owner had said. He turned it in his hands, marveling at the sturdiness of the material despite its wood origin. It would turn aside a blade as effectively as most armor, and so much lighter.

  “Looks pretty good to me,” Kenyatta replied. “Strong, too. I tink it serve us much better than what we have now, and it's not too flashy either. Get one for me.”

  While paying for their wares, Kita felt an odd vibe and glanced over his shoulder, but there was no one behind him. He stuffed their new armor in a sack the shop owner had given him and looked around. Kenyatta was busy bargaining over items in another shop.

  Kita frowned and glanced over his right shoulder to accidentally make eye contact with the most out-of-place person in the city.

  A beautiful woman seemed to glide across his path. Her presence was both overt and subtle at the same time. Her lips were thin and sharp and slanted in a half smile that hypnotized every male shopper she passed. Although she had an undeniable allure about her, Kita’s instincts warned that there was more to this woman than his eyes could see.

  “C’mon man,” Kenyatta teased. “Why don’t ya jyas go tell her what you’re really tinkin’ and see if she don’t slap your face off your head.”

  The woman stopped in front of them. “You are not from here,” she said in the native tongue of the land.

  “You aren’t either,” Kita replied.

  The woman offered a smile in response, then pointed west of the village. “I am from west of here, a very far place in the mountains.”

  “What brings you so far from your homeland?” Kita asked.

  “I have business to tend and people to seek.”

  “Well,” Kita said politely, “I wish you luck.”

  “You haven’t told me where you and your friend are from,” the woman persisted.

  “I appreciate your interest, and your trust in me, but I cannot return it. It’s true, we are not from here, but our place of origin is of no importance either.”

  “Only a warrior would be so aloof.”

  “Perhaps,” was all Kita offered. “I think my friend and I should move on now. We have much to do and the day moves on.”

  The woman smiled and tipped her head. “I’m sure we will meet again.”

  “Perhaps.”

  Throughout the conversation, Kenyatta felt a necessity to remain quiet and observe his unusually reserved friend. “Did I miss something back there?” he asked. Kita glanced at him.

  “There was something about her that I couldn’t place. There was more there than I could see, but I’m not sure what.”

  Kenyatta shrugged. “Maybe we’ll find out if we see her again.”

  Kita nodded, but the thought of seeing that woman again put him on edge.

  ***

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Kenjiro waited at the edge of his patience for his sister to return from the village square. She had insisted on going to see what type of merchandise would be sold, but the samurai preferred to avoid the crowds. He looked up from his tiny cup of sake to see the heads of seemingly every man in the general area turn in the direction of his sister. With some effort, he put away the reflexive desire to cut down every one of the lusting heathens

  “Put that look away, Kenjiro,” Akemi chided. “I have seen desire in the eyes of many women when they gaze at your handsome, if not rigid, visage.”

  Kenjiro grunted. “Did you find what you were looking for so we can move on?”

  Akemi sighed. “You really must learn how to relax, brother. We have one day, remember? I will enjoy every minute of it before we depart.”

  “You insist on wasting time here?”

  “I insist on us having some time to relax and unwind before we endure the trials of the road,” Akemi replied. “Quit trying to hide it. I know you like this place as much as I. When was the last time we were able to enjoy the quiet of a nice village such as this one?”

  Kenjiro grunted again, but complained no more. Akemi accepted that as a small victory.

  * * *

  As the afternoon turned late Kenjiro followed his adventurous sister through the village that could be called a small city, observing every sight and exploring every bar and social establishment that Toyotomi had to offer. One such place was The Eagle’s Eye, the very tavern where they’d rented their room.

  The place earned its name because it towered over every other tavern in Toyotomi and was also positioned in a corner overlooking the town square. The Eagle’s Eye was four stories high instead of the usual two or three, and three times as large as any other in town.

  “Quite a big place, this is.” Akemi glanced at her brother, who continued to scan the huge common room and the many throngs of people who mingled about.

  “What are you talking about?” he frowned at her. “We spent the night here.”

  “It looks bigger to me at a second glance,” Akemi said.

  “There are too many people from different parts of the world here. This tavern has mimicked the western ones too well, and even most of the patrons are from those rowdy lands. A fight could start from any corner of this place.”

  “Are all samurai as intense as you, my beloved brother?” Akemi smiled. “Come, let’s have a drink. I’m sure we can find something we’ve never had before in such a grand tavern as this one.”

  Kenjiro, still looking confused at why his sister spoke as if it were their first time here, shrugged and followed. Many eyes fell upon the two warriors as they moved across the large room. Some—many, in fact—were present the night before, when the two siblings had so easily dispatched the absent burly troublemaker. None challenged them this time, but stared sidelong at the two as they made their way to the bar.

  It seemed every inch of the big western-styled
establishment was made of wood, and the place glowed in the golden brown light of the candles on the walls and in the chandeliers that reflected it from the shiny plywood finish. There were two elevated dance floors, and a bar that stretched the length of the room. Customer after customer would yell out an order and one of the six bartenders would prepare the drink and send it sliding down the counter toward the caller. The atmosphere was filled with the loud chatter of patrons that were filled with the energy of the place, and at least two mugs of the house special blend.

  Oddly enough, contrary to Kenjiro’s words, there were none of the customary bar fights that one would expect to occur in an establishment such as this. Akemi smirked, attributing the lack of violence to the six guards who stood at each corner of the common room.

  An hour later saw the duo in the farthest corner of The Eagle’s Eye, Kenjiro slumped in an alcohol-induced stupor, and Akemi enjoying the sight. “What is this mix, brother?”

  “Don’t know,” Kenjiro slurred. “Bartender recommended this as the house special mix. I thought we might try it.”

  Akemi nodded, grinning inwardly at the change in Kenjiro from just an hour ago. “Quite a lively place isn’t it?”

  The samurai nodded in agreement, giving the area another look. “We’ve attracted a bit of attention, little sister,” he drawled.

  “We have,” she agreed. “I felt it ever since we walked through the doors. Many who look to prove themselves as fighters come to places like this one.” Akemi leaned back in her chair and took in the raucous atmosphere until her gaze once again settled on the armed guards. “And what of the six champions of the Eagle’s Eye, standing at each corner?”

  Kenjiro snorted. “I place them not much higher above the others. They stand with the pride and arrogance. I doubt their skill reaches outside the boundaries of this village.”

  Akemi laughed. “Perhaps we’ll assist in broadening their experience, before the night is done.”

  The samurai eyed his sister, then took another draw. “I’m up for it!” he declared, slamming the mug on the table.