Heart of the Ronin the Ronin Trilogy: Volume I a Novel by Travis Heermann
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Heart of the Ronin The Ronin Trilogy: Volume I A Novel by Travis Heermann Heermann/Heart of the Ronin Copyright © 2009 by Travis Heerman recording or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the All rights reserved. express written permission of the publisher, except where permitted by law. Excerpts from Hagakure: The Book of the Samurai by Yamamoto Tsunetomo First Edition Translated by William Scott Wilson First Printing: February 2009 Copyright © 1979 and 2002 by William Scott Wilson and Kodansha International Ltd. Published in 2009 in conjunction with Tekno Books and Ed Published by Kodansha International Ltd. Gorman. Reproduced by permission. All rights reserved. Set in 11 pt. Plantin. Excerpts from The Life-Giving Sword by Yagyu Munenori Translated by William Scott Wilson Printed in the United States on permanent paper. Copyright © 2003 by William Scott Wilson and Kodansha International Ltd. Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data Published by Kodansha International Ltd. (attached) Reproduced by permission. All rights reserved. Excerpts from The Unfettered Mind by Takuan Soho Translated by William Scott Wilson Copyright © 1986 by William Scott Wilson and Kodansha International Ltd. Published by Kodansha International Ltd. Reproduced by permission. All rights reserved. Excerpts from The Book of Five Rings by Miyamoto Musashi Translated by Nihon Services Corporation Copyright © 1982 Published by Bantam Books, a division of Random House Reproduced by permission. All rights reserved. This novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author‟s imagination, or, if real, used fictitiously. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by an electronic or mechanical means, including photocopying, 2 Heermann/Heart of the Ronin Dedication Acknowledgements and Thanks For Cheryl Special thanks to Minori Iyonaga, Yuuko Shichiji, Yumiko Machino, and Michiko Sumi of the Chikugo English Speaking Society, for their kind advice on Japanese history and culture, and their tireless, painstaking efforts at correcting my English. Any mistakes they did not catch are purely my own. I would also like to offer sincere thanks to Naoko Ikeda, hachi-dan master of Japanese calligraphy, for her generosity and friendship, and for her beautiful artwork that graces my humble story. And lastly but not leastly, I want to say thanks to the numerous readers who offered their comments and advice, and helped me shepherd this story into its current form. You know who you are. 3 Heermann/Heart of the Ronin The First Scroll Journey’s End “Be true to the thought of the moment and avoid distraction. Other than continuing to exert yourself, enter into nothing else, but go to the extent of living single thought by single thought.” —Hagakure Ken‟ishi‟s extended blade cast a ribbon of morning sunlight onto the ground at his feet. He looked down the curved edge of his upturned blade at the man who wanted to kill him. Takenaga‟s eyes narrowed as he studied Ken‟ishi‟s unusual stance and his unusual blade with its antique-style curvature. Silver Crane‟s hilt felt good in his hands, like a part of him. He braced his feet wide apart and dug his worn wooden sandals deeper into the dirt of the road, to ensure they would not slip. His body faced to the side, and he gripped the hilt near his chin, looking over his left shoulder toward his enemy. The two men stood with their blades extended between them like lethal shards of ice glimmering in the noonday sun. Takenaga‟s hateful eyes blazed with cold ferocity, boring into him like awls. Ken‟ishi was accustomed to being shunned. He was a warrior without a master, and thus a person outside normal society, someone to be feared and distrusted, but he still did not understand the vehemence of Takenaga‟s enmity toward him. The older man‟s lips tightened. “Coward! You fear death!” Ken‟ishi‟s voice was calm, slow and even. “No, I merely wish to leave this village with its constable still alive.” Takenaga changed to the lower stance, dropping the point of his blade toward Ken‟ishi‟s feet, testing, looking for a reaction. 4 Heermann/Heart of the Ronin Akao stood hunched, a few paces away, his rust-red mane before. These days, lone warriors often resorted to robbery to standing on end, his tail down against his legs. A low, uneasy growl support themselves. Ken‟ishi could hardly conceive of such a vast emanated from between his bared teeth, and his ears lay flat against gulf of time, of an era when all warriors had masters and respect. He his head. had lived perhaps seventeen years—he did not know for certain— But Ken‟ishi was no longer aware of the dog, only his enemy. and fifty years was like a dozen lifetimes to him. Besides, he knew He did not move, standing still as a crane in a pool of water practically nothing of politics anyway. His teacher had taught him untouched by the wind. The flaring anger he had felt only moments how to survive and how to use the sword at his hip, and little else ago was gone, subsumed by a strange wonder. Would he still live ten about the world of men. heartbeats from now? He had been in danger before, but never But there was something else his teacher had taught him, fought a real duel against a single, well-trained opponent. He had something he could do that other men could not. wiggled his way out of scrapes with clumsy town guards, faced down Akao lifted his nose, taking in the scent, and spoke. “Smells drunken bullies, and avoided angry innkeepers, but never a situation like a village,” the dog said. “Give us some food?” A whimper of where someone‟s death was assured. He must kill this man. Merely hunger escaped the dog‟s throat. wounding him would not be sufficient to protect his own life. He saw Ken‟ishi said, “Or maybe they‟ll beat us with sticks. in Takenaga‟s eyes that he would not rest until Ken‟ishi was dead. Remember the last time?” From the first day they had met, Akao had Did he have it within him to kill? always thought with this belly. He reached for the nothingness, shifting his awareness to the “Beat me with a stick and we ran away.” Now, the instant, forgetting the before and the after. His blade hung “Yes, we were lucky that time. The kami favored us.” motionless in the air before him. His eyes did not move; he was “Always hate us.” focused on a point several paces behind his opponent, but his “That‟s why we trust only each other.” awareness encompassed the smallest of Takenaga‟s movements; the “Yes, trust,” Akao said, his tail wagging, his tongue lolling. shift of his weight in preparation to strike, his grip on the hilt of his Until he had left his teacher and met his foster parents, katana, the flex of the muscles in his forearms, and the inevitable Ken‟ishi had thought everyone could speak to animals, and he explosion of movement. remembered the sudden sensation of alienation when he found they * * * * * could not, and the suspicion in their eyes when they found that he Earlier that morning, before Ken‟ishi even saw the village, the scent could. of smoke and onions wafting between the trees of the surrounding The path led down the rocky slope straight into the village. forest had sent his empty stomach into an uproar. His right hand Through small gaps in the thick canopy, Ken‟ishi saw the terraced absently massaged his empty coin pouch. Because he was ronin, he patchwork of fields in the valley, with farmers cultivating their spring rarely found anyone willing to give him a job as even a common vegetables. He could not remember the last time he had eaten a hot laborer. He was outside of society because he did not have a master, meal. The earthy taste of the wild roots he had dug up earlier this lower in some respects than even a geisha or a merchant. People did morning lingered on his tongue, but had done little except fan the not trust ronin. There were no wars these days, not since the fire of his hunger. Akao usually sustained himself with mice and Minamoto clan had seized power away from the Emperor fifty years other small creatures. But Ken‟ishi could not share those meals. 5 Heermann/Heart of the Ronin There was too little meat on them, and he could not bring himself to forested mountainsides and straddling a narrow, rocky stream. He eat them whole. Once, the dog had been lucky enough to catch a hoped he could find an inn or a teahouse that would offer a bowl of rabbit, and they had shared it that night. rice to an itinerant warrior. He had no money, but there were other He hoped the peasants would still have some rice, since the ways a warrior could get a meal. He was loath to resort to winter stores of food were often depleted by this time of year. But intimidation or thievery, even though he was practically starving. this land was new to him, different, warmer than the northern island As he drew nearer, Ken‟ishi noticed several peasants in the that raised him. Cherry trees here were already in bloom, earlier than fields had stopped working to watch him. He saw little of their faces in the north. The last of his coins had purchased his sea crossing a under their broad straw hats.