Gintaro and Nō arrived at the dōjō right on time. The sun was high in the sky, and its radiance filled the valley so that it felt even hotter than in the mountainous wilds. Beads of sweat glistened on their foreheads, but they otherwise showed no other sign or emotion. So far, they had not heard from Kaya’s girls, which meant that they had not seen any of the Shōgun’s men acting strangely. This was good news. Perhaps the daimyō was being honest after all.

Lord Usagi hobbled out of the main entrance of the dōjō, flanked by his two silver-haired sons in white sparring outfits. The dōjō itself was a fairly large compound, surrounded by white walls with black clay tiles on top. The walls and the tiles were faded and discolored from the years of nonuse, but otherwise, the place seemed intact. It was situated in the northeast section of the city, far from the small, congested houses that were tightly packed together in the heart of the Old Capital. This area was a place where many other daimyō owned residences, and thus it tended to attract the rich or those who desired to seem so. The streets were also wider, and many buildings were walled, to protect the people and the contents within.

“I have come,” Gin said, bowing formally.

“So you have,” the old man acknowledged. “I am pleased to see it. You could have easily walked away from this opportunity.”

“You promised me an expedited way to get to the New Capital. Do you still plan to honor that pledge?”

Usagi nodded. “Of course, if you will but have a match with my two sons here. I want them to see what it is like to fight a master swordsman from the old days.”

“Very well, but I must insist on a few conditions. You are obviously aware of what happened in Kagiminato, and you may also know that there is a large bounty on my head. I am sure the Shōgun would give you quite the reward for capturing or killing me.”

“Very wise of you Gin-san,” the old man said with a grin. “I would not trust me either if I were in your position. For the record, the reward for you is quite high. But as I also said before, I have no interest in capturing you. Give me your terms.”

“I insist that all entrances and exits be left open and unlocked for the entire duration of my stay. This is in case I find a compelling reason to leave prematurely.”

“Done,” Usagi assented with a nod.

“I must also insist that all of your retainers and servants be in the dōjō during the bout. Not a single man should be unaccounted for. I want to be able to see all of them. Also, no one should be armed with more than a bokken, as is fitting in a practice bout.”

This caused a stir from the two young sons of Usagi, but he lifted a hand to still them. “Granted. I shall have them all disarm before we enter the dōjō. Both you and I and my sons should be the sole exceptions, of course.”

“Finally,” Gin concluded, raising his voice so that it was loud and firm. “I request you be my hostage, to be under my second’s watch until the match is completed, and the promise is kept.”

“This is an insult!” one of Usagi’s sons shouted angrily. “You ask that our father give himself up as a hostage to you?”

Gin shrugged. “I am a wanted man as your father has made plain. There are good reasons for you to try and deceive me. I am only taking the necessary precautions.”

“And our father is a great lord!” the other son protested. “Should we not want to protect him from a man with a reputation as foul as yours?”

“Enough!” the old daimyō cried, frowning. “You go too far, Gintaro! I am still the lord of Usagi Province, do not forget that. I have no intention of capturing you. If I wanted to, I could have called in the Shōgun’s men last night when I spotted you and had you arrested outside of the Soyokaze. So, if it is alright with you, I will not give myself up as a hostage. I have never been in anyone’s capture, and I don’t intend to start at my ripe old age.”

Gin had considered the possibility that the old man would not take such a blow to his honor. “Very well,” he said after a few moments. “Let’s begin.”

“Good,” the old man said, a smile returning to his face. “By the way, who is this young man by your side?”

“He is my apprentice. He will be acting as my second in this bout.”

The three Usagi men turned and went back inside the compound, while Gintaro and Nō followed behind. As they passed through the small gate, they were able to see the courtyard before them and two large buildings beyond. The courtyard, like the rest of the estate, had grown unchecked for quite some time and had a rough, wild look about it. The stone pathway was mostly covered with dried mud, the hedges were strange and contorted, the ponds were drained of all water, and weeds choked out the beds that used to be full of bright flowers.

“I apologize for the appearance of my estate,” Usagi said as if reading Gin’s thoughts. “This place has not seen use for quite some time. I would have sold the place years ago, but it would have been seen as dishonorable. You know how these aristocrats are. They hate to see the world around them crumble to dust. But this city has fallen, and I do not think it can recover.”

After they passed through, two buildings were left in front of them. The left building was two stories tall and was a kind of barracks for swordsmen who used to study at the dōjō. It had a few larger chambers on the second level that could be converted if someone of importance, like the daimyō, passed through. The other building was the dōjō itself. It was an enclosed rectangular hall with a shaded veranda along the perimeter. The walls were made of sliding paper doors and outer wooden doors for protection against the elements. It had a large triangular roof covered with clay tiles that were cracked and broken in some spots.

“It's a shame,” Gin commented. “It seems to me that this was once a proud school.”

“It was!” the daimyō exclaimed, halting at the entrance to the dōjō. “I trained here myself when I was a lad. But that was before the war spilled over, and well, this city became a microcosm of the Islands at large. If you stepped out of your dōjō without enough armed soldiers, you were likely to be killed before you crossed the street.”

“I remember it well,” Gin said darkly.

“I am sure you do. Now, send for the others,” he said to one of his sons. “Get them inside, and remember, no arms!”

His sons did as they were told, and soon a contingent of sturdy men emerged from the barracks and presented themselves before the daimyō. In all, there were twelve men, fitting within the upper range of Gin’s earlier estimate. They were all fully armored with the insignia of the rabbit painted upon them and wore helms of plated steel, but they handed the two sons their arms, giving Nō and Gin wretched looks as they did so.

“That is all of them,” Usagi said at last. “You can take a look around the grounds and the barracks if you’d like to make sure.”

Gintaro inspected the estate one more time. “I will trust your word,” he finally said.

The daimyō smiled and then, with the help of his two sons, he climbed the stairs and entered within.

Gintaro shot Nō a glance. He could tell that he was quite anxious, for he moved about unnecessarily. Gin did his best to portray calm, to alleviate his pupil’s fears, but he knew that would not be enough. They then followed the other inside.

The dōjō was quite spacious, with smooth wooden floors that had recently been cleaned and several racks of practice swords along the walls. At the far end was the head of the dōjō, where there was hung a large scroll with the name of house Usagi and a list of the long lineage of the clan heads. Below, there was the customary space just for ceremonial display. In one corner was a seated display of ornate, white-plated armor upon a small chair. In the other corner, there was a matching set of armor just like it. Both were impressive armor sets, and they seemed to dazzle as the polish reflected the bright sunlight. It was before this hallowed area that the old daimyō sat upon a small folding stool. All the daimyō’s men knelt formally along the far side of the dōjō, while Nō, as was custom, knelt across from them on the near side.

Gintaro, and the two sons of Usagi, stood in the center of the hall and lined up next to each other, and then bowed all at once towards the old daimyō. This was one of the many customs that had to be observed in a formal sword school. Even the fiercest enemy of the dōjō’s master was still required to follow the forms or be held in dishonor. In the old days, dishonor was seen as a fate worse than death.

They then separated and bowed towards one another.

“I am Daiki of House Usagi,” the first of the identical twins proclaimed.

“I am Taiki of House Usagi,” the second repeated, in almost the same tone and nuanced way of speaking.

“I am Masaki Gintaro.”

They bowed once more then proceeded to their respective sides of the hall. Gin exchanged his black sword with Nō’s wooden bokken, while the twins received their weapons from their own retainers.

“What are the rules?” Gintaro asked the daimyō from across the hall.

“First strike landed,” the daimyō answered sharply. “Two-on-one to start. I hope that is acceptable. You are said to be the Raijin after all.”

Gin agreed without dispute. “Any illegal strikes?”

“No,” the old man said, crossing his arms. “Everything is legal, but obviously we should remember that this is just a match.”

Gintaro was taken aback by this. Even though they were using wooden swords, it did not mean that damage could not be done. Indeed, a well-placed strike to the skull with one of these wooden swords could easily kill a man. It was an unspoken rule to avoid using such attacks, but accidents did happen. “The Old Rabbit must be confident in his son’s skills,” he thought. “I should be careful.”

The three returned to the center of the dōjō, bowed to the daimyō once more, then bowed to each other. Finally, they settled into their fighting stances.

“Begin!” the old man cried, his brittle voice cracking from the intensity with which he said it.

Gintaro started on the defensive, waiting to see what these twins’ capabilities were. He was not disappointed. They rushed at him with stunning speed, nearly catching him in the first few seconds of the match, but he managed to parry one and dodge the other’s attack in the nick of time.

“That was close,” he said to himself, as he sprung back from the sudden onslaught. Usagi’s sons continued their assault, not letting him even a second to recover. Their attacks were fast, and they had good reach so that he had to really move and contort himself to avoid being hit. It was always difficult to get the timing down when facing two opponents, especially ones as well-trained as these. He had to keep himself from being flanked, which minimized his options considerably. He was also unused to the lightness of his new weapon, Nō’s bokken, and it would take him a few direct parries to test its weight and strength. They chased him across the dōjō, from one end to the other and then back again. They had nearly struck him a few times, one of them getting as close as his hair and the other chafing the sleeve of his kimono, but somehow Gintaro managed to get away. He parried here and there, when he could, but mostly dipped, jumped, and swerved out of the way of his adversaries’ strikes.

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Soon, they began a slightly different tactic, separating themselves to try to pin and corner him. This was his first opportunity to retaliate. He had warmed up, his muscles now felt loose and elastic, and he was now confident in his weapon, for it had now become part of his own body, not a thing in which he held. He moved towards the one on his left, disarming him with a loud crack, and was ready to give him an easy bump to the chest when he had to pivot at the last second to block an attack from the other. This gave the first twin a chance to recover his weapon, and now Gin found himself in the dreadful position of having one to his front and the other behind.

The two came at him simultaneously, but he dodged at the last moment so that they nearly struck each other. But they were better trained than that, and aborted mid-strike, crossing each other and then wheeling back around towards him. Gin could feel many eyes upon him, dozens of intense, heavy eyes, watching the match with an array of emotions. He could sense the old daimyō’s eyes, partially clouded with age, following him as best he could, hoping that his sons would get the first strike. He could feel the eyes of the Usagi soldiers, all men of the sword, in awe of the technique and skill that was on display before them. Finally, he could sense Nō’s eyes, the eyes of a young man watching his teacher in the heat of competition. He then imagined Yuki’s eyes and wondered what she would think if she could see all of this.

“She would want me to win,” he told himself.

All of a sudden Gintaro seemed to surge with power. He smote one of the twin’s bokken so hard that it flew out of his hands, pierced the paper door, and landed in the courtyard. In the next moment, he tapped both twins in the chest.

They both were stunned by the mesmerizing turn of events, and it showed on their usually placid faces. The twin who had been disarmed shook his sword hand with pain, as the vibration from the strike had sorely hurt. After a few moments of stunned silence and blank stares, the two young men bowed to their opponent and conceded defeat.

“Well done, well done Gintaro-san,” the daimyō said, rising to his feet. “I expected nothing less from the man who has come back to life from death.”

Gin smiled at first, but his expression faded immediately when he saw the look on the old man’s face. It wore a look of intense indignation.

“But I am sorry if I still am a bit of an unbeliever,” he continued. “I believe that there may be a better way to tell if you are the true Gintaro or not.”

“The match is over,” Gin returned, gripping his sword a little bit tighter. “I’d like to get what I was promised.”

“I will give you everything you need, but I still need more proof!” the old man shouted, his voice hot with wrath.

“This was not the agreement!”

“I am amending our agreement!” the daimyō said imperiously, raising his walking stick like a battle sword. “Guards! Bring him down!”

In an instant, the guards had sprung to their feet and had grasped their own wooden swords from the weapon racks. Then they all began to charge at him, with faces of lusty fury.

Gin frowned, but there was a gleam in his eye. He had come expecting something to go wrong, and it finally had. This time, he was ready.

He met the oncoming wall of men with a reciprocal charge of his own. Bokken clashed with bokken, and he moved in and out of the mass of swinging arms. Everything seemed to slow down, as it always did when he fought with this kind of intensity, and it made their movements easier to predict. His strikes were like lightning bolts from an angry, swirling storm. These were strong, well-trained, hardy men, but they were not like him.

He smashed a man square in the helm, concussing him so badly that he fell immediately to the floor. He then swung his sword down low, upending another man so that he landed on his back. These were armored men, and he only had one wooden sword, so he was limited in where he could attack. Any errant strike could mean his defeat, so he was careful where and how he placed his strikes. He cracked one man across the knuckles with his pommel. He struck another man across the shoulder. The Usagi warriors had managed to hit him a few times, but they were only glancing strikes, and soon, after a few minutes of frenzied chaos, he stood alone amid twelve bodies, some groaning and some lying unconscious.

Gintaro was sweating, his ribcage heaving for air in the stiflingly hot room. He looked over to Nō. He had done what he had been told and kept his solemn watch, not moving.

He had instructed him earlier, “If things get bad, do not move a muscle, unless someone is about to topple you. I won't be able to fight to my maximum if I know you are in the fray, and as it stands right now, you would not last long. Keep my sword ready for when I call for it, and only if I call for it.”

The boy had done well, though his eyes showed signs of great panic and self-doubt.

Gin turned towards the daimyō and glared at him. “I told you that you would meet the same fate as the steward if you betrayed me!”

“I did not betray you,” the daimyō shot back. “I merely increased the intensity of your trial. And I am about to do it one more time!” From his side, he pulled out two real swords and handed one each to his sons who stood beside him. During the scrum, they had donned the elaborate war armor that had once sat in the hallowed area behind the daimyō.

“Seize him!” the old man cried.

The twins rushed forward, clashing with the sound of their new armor, unsheathing their swords with the familiar metal shearing scrape. Gin looked over towards Nō, who was anticipating him. He quickly rose to his feet with his black longsword in hand. But he was on the other side of the dōjō, and the two sons had cut him off and were bearing down upon him. The swordsman readied his wooden sword and braced for the assault.

Their attack was swift, but he was but a moment faster. He dodged the attack, moving just enough that he evaded both shining swords. This allowed him to retaliate, but as he did, he misjudged their tremendous speed and had his bokken sliced in half. He nearly lost his head as well, but he managed to fling himself backward just in time. He landed on the ground and then immediately rolled, stopped, and rolled again to get out of the way of the hacking blades that rained down from above. Grabbing a bokken that had been used by one of Usagi’s soldiers, he managed to deflect a sword and jump to his feet.

The twins had black malice in their eyes, and they moved against him with ferocity, even greater than before, so that he could not make his way towards his nervous pupil. They slashed and cut, and he moved and ducked, and it seemed that this would be the way of it until Gin finally made a mistake and was struck down. Yet the wary swordsman was not yet beaten, and he had at last collected enough information to properly exploit a weakness in these two talented young warriors. He just had to wait for the right opportunity.

After several moments of close calls, and agile acrobatics, it finally came. The two sons of Usagi swung low, in an attempt to take his legs out from underneath him. At that moment, Gin jumped between the two, rolled on the ground and as he rose again, he shouted, “Now!”

His student had perfect timing and aim, and just as Gintaro lifted his left hand to the sky, there was his sword to meet his grasp. In a blinding movement, he had it unsheathed and easily parried the two sons and knocked them back several paces, buying himself a reprieve.

“Enough!” shouted the old daimyō, almost jumping off the ground. “Enough! Stop it fools! He will kill you! Do you want to die? Put the weapons down! Put them down this instant!”

The twins glared at Gintaro menacingly but reluctantly sheathed the weapons and laid them on the floor as an act of surrender.

Those soldiers who had recovered themselves also huddled in the back of the dōjō, staring at Gin with terror in their eyes, as he stood tall and defiant in the center of the building, with his evil black sword now loosed. They had heard what had happened in Kagiminato and knew they could now witness a similar kind of butchery.

But their opponent merely wiped the sweat from his brow and sheathed his sword, diffusing the tension in the room by a great deal.

Gintaro turned to face the daimyō, who was still standing but seemed to diminish at that moment.

“Gintaro…” Usagi said softly. “My dear Gintaro, it is you. It truly is you.”

“Did you have any doubt?”

“I had to be sure,” the old daimyō explained. “If I am sending you back there, I had to be sure. Guards leave us! My sons, you fought well, but it is time I had a conversation with this man that is best left between us.”

The twins were reluctant, but they heeded their father’s orders and left with the others. Only Gintaro and Nō remained.

The old man sat down and exhaled loudly. “Ah, that was the most excitement I have had in a long, long time. At my age food and drink are not as good as they used to be, and my wife cannot give me the joy she once could in the days of my youth, if you catch my meaning. I am sorry if I got carried away, but I wanted to put you to it. I did it to be sure. Though I care nothing for the bounty on your head, I have much to lose if I was discovered helping you get to the New Capital. My sons would be stripped of their titles and worse. I needed to make sure that you were you.”

“Then this was all just a test?”

“In a way, yes,” Usagi confessed. “They would not have killed you, not intentionally. But they had to appear as though they would. You look just like the man I once knew in the old days, besides a few grey hairs. And that man would not have been slain by a group even as well trained as these. I needed to know that you were still the Raijin, the warrior of legend. That is the man I can send on to the New Capital and not be afraid that he will be easily defeated and broken. That is the man that we need in these dark days.”

“I don’t understand,” replied Gin, his breaths gradually easing.

The old daimyō quivered a bit, his lips moving as if he were going to smile and cry at the same time. “The war is not over, Gintaro,” he said, his voice breaking under the weight of his words. “It has not been properly finished; you see. There has been a long pause, yes, but soon the final act will be upon us.”

“I do not understand how this has anything to do with me,” he said defiantly. “My only concern is rescuing my daughter.”

“I want you to rescue your daughter too. I do. I did not lie about that. I wish I could get even one of my children back. I would give everything I have for the chance. But I also want you to be something more.”

“Which is?”

“A hero. The Islands need a hero, a true hero. Soon, very soon, our people will know only darkness. I am afraid it will be too much for them to bear. The barbarians are coming, as I said, and the Shōgun is not going out to fight them. This may not seem like much but to me, it is strange indeed. Mashige Hideyo made himself into the Shōgun by running headlong into battles. Why now does he stay behind? He is sending his best generals, the Tiger and the Dragon, and the mysterious Henji in his stead. He may be hoping to win a decisive victory and to repel the barbarians, but he might have other, more subtle motivations. The Tiger and the Dragon have always been thorns in his side, putting them against an unbeatable armada may spell their doom.

I also sense other betrayals, though I cannot be certain of where they will come from. For once, I pity the poor fool of a Shōgun, for I do not think he understands what kind of storm has been gathering over these few years of peace. He is so enamored with that woman of his, and his desire for an heir. I think it will all be for naught, and all the bloodshed and death that once consumed these lands will return. Soon it will be all-out war once again, and this time we may have a horde of invaders to think about as well.”

“I see,” Gin said quietly, taking in the old daimyō’s grim words. “But I am no hero. I am just a father trying to save his child.”

“Yes,” the Old Rabbit agreed, nodding slowly. “I suppose you are right. But you must know what you are getting yourself into. You might be able to reach your daughter in time, and I hope you do, but then what? What are you rescuing her for? If you manage to retrieve her you may be able to protect her for some time, but not forever Gintaro, not forever. I am old. I will soon leave my sons. I tremble with fear when I think about what kind of world I am leaving them. Please, Gintaro, consider this point.”

There was a long pause for several moments. “I will,” he said at last.

“You bested my sons with ease,” the daimyō continued, looking up at him. “As a last request for an ailing father, could you please give me some advice for them? Perhaps it may be the last valuable thing I can teach them.”

Gin saw a pure fatherly intent in the old man’s grey eyes and so he agreed, though he was still angry about the whole ordeal. “Your sons have considerable potential. I can tell that they have trained hard. Their fault lies with their perceived advantage. As twins, they have similar if not identical features such as speed, reach, and strength. They have trained together, so they move like one. However, that is not always good. For any swordsman can tell you, dueling is not like formations of a battle, where cooperation is paramount. What makes a good duelist is their unique personality and style. When I saw one, I saw them both at the same time and once I could defeat one, I could defeat the other. If they were different in some measure, it would be much more challenging. I would have had to account for both styles, both techniques, and both people. If they can vary their styles, train apart for some amount of time, or under separate instructors, I think that would help them. If they could alternate from separate techniques to synchronization mid-fight, I dare say they would be a formidable duo for any to overcome, even for myself.”

The daimyō then stood and did something unusual for a man of his station. He bowed. “Thank you,” he said, and there was nothing but sincerity in his voice. “Now, let us have a meal, and then I will see to it that you are compensated, as to our arrangement.”

Gintaro assented to this but had one additional condition. “Do you think we could set a dish for one more?” he asked.

From behind one of the nearby paper doors, Saru emerged, her sharpened spear in hand.

The daimyō looked at her with surprise. “Now isn't that the lovely lady of Akaii you brought before me last evening? How did you get over there?”

“Yes, it is,” Saru answered with a smirk. “And I snuck in through the open gate. It was not just a way for them to get out, but a way for me to get in. It was my job to peg you to that lovely wall of yours if things got out of hand. Luckily, Gin-san does not scare very easily.”

The Old Rabbit stared at the swordsman with a mixture of reverence and fright.

“Always have a backup plan,” Gintaro said, the slightest trace of a smile crossing his lips. “You told me that when we first met, many years ago.”

“So I did!” Usagi exclaimed, beginning to smile as well. “So I did! And you remembered! That is why I know you will succeed.”