Masura Kazamune rode untouched through the packed but silent street. The fingers of his right hand brushed against the scabbard of his sheathed sword, his left hand adjusting the position of two large sacks tied to his horse\u2019s saddle. A soft drip accompanied the beast\u2019s nimble steps. The bottoms of both bags were stained a dark red.\n<\/p>\n
\nHe ignored every stare, jaw set, focused instead upon the padding of his stallion’s hooves upon the parched earth. It seemed as if every man, woman, and child in that nameless backwater town had gathered to watch his return. Faces lined the building walls, the doorways, even peeked through the open windows. But none dared speak. Not in the presence of a man such as him.\n<\/p>\n
\nHis destination was a large structure at the end of the wide dirt street. The thatch on its sloped roof was new. Lean wooden columns supported the austere frame, built upon a foundation of assembled stones rather than stout stilts like the other nearby dwellings.\n<\/p>\n
\nMasura squared his shoulders. In the old days, he had accompanied Lord Akano through many towns similar to this one, though the reception then had been far different. Inquisitive faces would\u2019ve peered at him as now, but the women would\u2019ve clasped their hands in gratitude, the children cheering, the men giving low bows. Lord Akano would\u2019ve waved back, dismounted and walked among the gathered crowd on foot. A sign of deep respect for the peasantry. The lifeblood of the Hiratan Empire.\n<\/p>\n
\nAn aging male servant in a loose brown robe greeted Masura at the sliding entrance door of the elder\u2019s residence. The old man didn\u2019t bow, though he kept his eyes downcast while taking the reins of Masura\u2019s black Kiyoso stallion. Masura ascended the shallow steps, a soaked cloth bag in each hand. A second male servant wearing an identical robe beckoned him forward.\n<\/p>\n
\nTwo figures waited for him at the far edge of the audience room. Horio Tamekage stood erect, feet shoulder-width apart, his receding hair tied in traditional topknot fashion. But Masura gave the man only a furtive glance, his gaze lingering instead upon the kneeling woman beside him. Suroda Tamekage was far older, her posture stooped, strands of long white hair pinned back around her shoulders. Unusual for a woman out here in the Marchlands to retain the role of elder rather than passing it onto a son, though such practices were becoming increasingly common throughout the Eight Provinces. No doubt a result of the Luminous Throne\u2019s influence?and that of Hirata\u2019s new Emperor.\n<\/p>\n
\nAnother twelve men stood along the walls in their black and gray robes. Daylight streamed through the windows to reflect off a dozen hands gripping the hilts of their sheathed single-edged swords. None of the scabbards or hilts bore the mark of the yejin, unlike Masura\u2019s own sekari steel blade. The tart scent of bowstring oil was rampant. They likely had archers hidden behind the one-way partition at the back of the room.\n<\/p>\n
\nMasura\u2019s mouth twitched, though he stopped it from becoming a full-fledged frown. He gave a slight bow. \u201cI dispatched the brigands, as requested.\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\nHe tossed the two cloth bags onto the floor before either of the Tamekages could reply. The sacks rolled forward with a soft squish and left a pair of red smears along the wooden planks.\n<\/p>\n
\nHorio Tamekage used a foot to prod the nearest sack. Strands of close-cropped black hair protruded through the open top, still attached to their scalps.\n<\/p>\n
\n\u201cWhere are the rest?\u201d Horio wiped the bottom of his blood-stained boot across the floor.\n<\/p>\n
\n\u201cThey couldn\u2019t be salvaged.\u201d Masura had tried being careful this time, but when it came to properly cutting off a criminal\u2019s head or staying alive?priority went to the latter.\n<\/p>\n
\n\u201cYou had explicit instructions.\u201d Horio kicked the sacks aside. A nearby servant was quick to gather them up. \u201cBring back every one of those brigands\u2019 heads, or don\u2019t bother returning at all.\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\n\u201cToo many to carry.\u201d Masura shrugged. \u201cThere were twenty of them.\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\nEyes widened at that. Horio\u2019s and those of the guards. Only Suroda Tamekage\u2019s expression remained unreadable.\n<\/p>\n
\n\u201cLiar.\u201d Horio jabbed a finger in Masura\u2019s face. \u201cNo lone stray could take down twenty armed criminals. Not honorably.\u201d Several nearby guards nodded. \u201cTell me, did you resort to using a coward\u2019s poisons? Or perhaps you slit a few of those men\u2019s throats while they were sleeping?\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\nMasura neither moved nor blinked. Horio wasn\u2019t entirely wrong in his assessment. Masura had caught the brigands by surprise. Most had been too busy with other less honorable pursuits to even notice him. Captured farm girls for their pleasure, along with an open cask of distilled liquor seized during one of their recent raids.\n<\/p>\n
\nCriminals and their victims?more casualties of the droughts ravaging Hirata\u2019s rice crop in the Glimmering Terraces to the north, now well into its fifth year. Destitute men could be led to commit all sorts of heinous acts.\n<\/p>\n
\n\u201cNothing to say in your defense?\u201d Horio paced back and forth before Masura. He tapped his thumb against the hilt of his blade. \u201cYou present yourself with only six of these supposed twenty, and with no further evidence the other brigands are dead. How do we know you didn\u2019t just raid a farmer\u2019s field upon our lands and cut off the heads of six random peasants?\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\nMasura inhaled a breath, but not too deep. The wound at his side, hidden beneath the folds of his blue robe, still throbbed. The brigands\u2019 leader had been neither drinking nor whoring, and had proved a worthy opponent, more skilled than his nineteen subordinates put together. Another yejin turned stray, just like Masura. Bandaging the wound from that man\u2019s marked blade had been a hasty thing. It would need proper treatment and suturing to prevent infection, and soon.\n<\/p>\n
\n\u201cRide into the hills and take a look for yourself. I\u2019ll even draw you a map.\u201d Masura kept his gaze level. He wouldn\u2019t lower his eyes or bow to anyone who dared call him a liar. \u201cAnd if you\u2019re still unsure, question the husbands, parents, and siblings of the women I freed from the brigands\u2019 bondage.\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\nAll but one, anyway, whom two of the criminals had gutted during the chaos in a failed attempt to bargain for their lives. The other women had fled once they realized who Masura was. None had even bothered to thank him.\n<\/p>\n
\nHorio\u2019s mouth snapped shut, instead matching Masura\u2019s glare. The man\u2019s grip tightened on his sword hilt.\n<\/p>\n
\n\u201cIt is of little concern to us.\u201d Suroda Tamekage\u2019s voice was quiet and frail, yet it cut through the ensuing silence. \u201cWe will pay you what you\u2019re owed.\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\nShe signaled behind her. A young female servant approached, head bowed, and knelt in front of Masura. The girl held out a leather coin pouch.\n<\/p>\n
\nMasura seized the offering with one hand and counted the hollow-centered silver discs in the other. With each metallic clink, more whispers and mutters flared from every corner of the residence. The guards, the servants, the archers lurking behind the rear partition, even the elder and her son. Convention dictated Masura should wait until the meeting was concluded before verifying his payment. A gesture of respect and trust to the other party, though he had long since dispensed with such pointless courtesies.\n<\/p>\n
\nLord Akano certainly wouldn\u2019t have approved. It was easy to picture his master\u2019s heavy-lined face giving him a stern frown, seated in the manor study by lamplight, calligraphy brush frozen between fingers and paper. Lord Akano\u2019s desk would\u2019ve been piled high with letters to his many contacts throughout the empire?correspondence to secure labor agreements for desperate Hiratans eager for work.\n<\/p>\n
\nBut the dead couldn\u2019t protest.\n<\/p>\n
\n\u201cThis is only a third of what we agreed upon.\u201d Masura tossed the pouch back at the Tamekages\u2019 feet.\n<\/p>\n
\nHorio sprang forward. \u201cBe grateful we\u2019re even giving you that, you oath breaking?\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\n\u201cEnough.\u201d Suroda raised a hand, and Horio fell silent. Her dark eyes settled on Masura. \u201cWhat we\u2019re offering is more than generous, considering you only brought us six heads. Do you think you deserve more, based on our prior agreement?\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\nThe guards reached for their weapons?thumbs\u2019 lengths of sharpened steel now visible. Masura’s gaze remained fixed upon the partition behind the Tamekages. The archers likely had their bows drawn, aimed at his heart and head.\n<\/p>\n
\nHe grasped the hilt of his own sword. Deflecting arrows was no small feat at such close range, even with the ethereal nimbleness of his sekari steel blade. But it could be done, as could taking on a room of twenty odd men, if necessary. It seemed to be his lucky sign.\n<\/p>\n
\nHe\u2019d fought that same number when pursuing his master\u2019s murderers. Twenty assassins from House Narisane led by the High Lord\u2019s third son, dissatisfied with so many of those lucrative labor contracts given to Lord Akano in his father\u2019s stead. Each of the twenty had fallen to a single swing from Masura\u2019s sword?a wildfire tale that had spread throughout Hirata to become legend.\n<\/p>\n
\nAs had the rumor of Masura\u2019s refusal to die after Lord Akano had been avenged, as yejin tradition demanded. A life of disgrace chosen over an honorable death. The life of an outcast. A stray.\n<\/p>\n
\nMasura tensed, a sneer splitting his facade. These Tamekages had called him a coward and a liar. With their deaths?he would simply be defending whatever shreds of honor he still had left.\n<\/p>\n
\nHe exhaled his held breath. And be branded a murderer, hunted down like a common criminal. Like the assassins who\u2019d killed Lord Akano. Like the brigands he himself had executed. And like their leader, the former yejin he\u2019d dueled and defeated.\n<\/p>\n
\nMasura released the grip on his sword. There had been far too much death in these hills already. Lord Akano would\u2019ve been aghast if he knew his old gift was being used for such a purpose, especially if he was watching from the Other world. The last thing Masura needed right now was another name added to an ever-growing list. Masura the Quick. Masura the Oath Breaker. Masura the Stray.\n<\/p>\n
\nMasura the Butcher.\n<\/p>\n
\n\u201cWell?\u201d Horio said. \u201cWhat\u2019re you still standing there for? Take your payment and go?or you won\u2019t be leaving at all.\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\nMasura gritted his teeth. Horio wasn\u2019t the first to utter such a threat to him, nor would this elder\u2019s overgrown whelp be the last. But he hadn\u2019t come all the way out to this backwater town to answer their pleas for help, only to cause trouble after.\n<\/p>\n
\nTime to move on.\n<\/p>\n
\nIt took Masura considerable effort not to press his hand to the crude bandage beneath his robe. Probably better to enlist the services of a healer elsewhere, though the next nearest town was more than a full day\u2019s ride.\n<\/p>\n
\n\u201cI thank you for your generosity.\u201d He left the coins on the floor and turned, perhaps a little too quick. Careless of him. He might take a blade in the back for his trouble, just like Lord Akano had. Horio Tamekage would be more than capable of giving that order, even if he wasn\u2019t the type to swing the sword himself.\n<\/p>\n
\nMasura breathed easier once his boots touched the compact earth outside the elder\u2019s residence. That same elderly servant waited alongside his Kiyoso stallion. Masura mounted up and rode at a trot down the main street.\n<\/p>\n
\nThe crowd still lingered, pulling back at his approach. Women clutched children to their chests, men shook their heads, youngsters spat at his feet. Masura straightened himself in the saddle, one hand on the reins, the other hanging loose at his side, as far away from the hilt of his sword as possible. It wouldn\u2019t do to show fear among the peasant folk. Not under the terms of this continued existence.\n<\/p>\n
\nIf he\u2019d had his way, he would\u2019ve killed himself upon avenging his master\u2019s death. A short blade to the gut, in typical yejin fashion, to join Lord Akano\u2019s remaining retainers in their sojourn to the Other world. But it hadn\u2019t been up to him. All of Hirata didn\u2019t understand, would never understand.\n<\/p>\n
\nHe was no coward.\n<\/p>\n
\nA silent messenger had delivered a sealed letter the day after Lord Akano\u2019s murder. Masura had memorized its contents, the characters scrawled in his master\u2019s elegant but unmistakable hand.\n<\/p>\n
\nMasura,<\/p>\n The fact you are reading this means I have met my end in a most unexpected way. I bear no ill feelings against whichever house was responsible. Seek vengeance if you must, but I do not wish you to follow me into the Other world. Not yet. Thus, my final order to you: <\/p>\n Live. <\/p>\n Should the droughts continue, you and your talents will be of far more use to the troubled people of Hirata, even broken and reviled as you will be. Pledge loyalty to no house. Speak of this to no one. Protect those who cannot do so themselves for as long as you are able. <\/p>\n Your services will always be needed.<\/em><\/p>\n Masura had burned the rest, kept only a small crinkled fragment tucked deep within the sleeve of his robe. It bore but a single smudged character. <\/p>\n Live.<\/em><\/p>\n \nThe thatched roofs of that nameless town faded from the horizon into memory. He would be visiting many more like it in the days to come.\n<\/p>\n Masura Kazamune rode untouched through the packed but silent street. The fingers of his right hand brushed against the scabbard of his sheathed sword, his left hand adjusting the position of two large sacks tied to his horse\u2019s saddle. A soft drip accompanied the beast\u2019s nimble steps. The bottoms of both bags were stained a …<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":105725,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[3,19780],"tags":[19779],"class_list":["post-136179","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-fiction","category-tcl-30-winter-2019","tag-the-colored-lens-30-winter-2019","entry entry-center"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/136179","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/105725"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=136179"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/136179\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":136180,"href":"https:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/136179\/revisions\/136180"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=136179"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=136179"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=136179"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
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