With grave joy, the three exchanged seed, resolutely keeping their samurai oath of female abstinence with the ease of the inexperienced. Their oneness reminded the Old Swordsman of the legendary harpist of great skill who cut the strings of his harp upon the death of that lover who was his most skilful listener.
He sat in the shadows and watched them rush through their lives to that destination which is the twin of birth. They had become fifteen.
Each hour gave the three greater skill. Their names came to be known throughout The Place of the Forgotten Name.Then word spread south to The Ox of the Tenth Verse, then more south to Hachiman’s Hunger. And beyond. Yet, as is proper, it never reached the practice hall.
Word came suddenly. The Old Swordsman’s last remaining brother had been murdered in a village to the south where his little temple stood. He seemed to have invited his fate, but the fact remained that some wandering ronin had cut him clean in two for no really satisfactory reason.
Before the Old Swordsman could realize that this was supposed to be a loss, his three young students vanished. They left a short, respectful note. The three swords missing from Sensei’s collection were, of course, only borrowed. They would be returned in honor. They regretted leaving without permission but time would brook no delay. And other such youthful expressions.
As if cleaved from head to heart, the man opened his mouth and gave a great and silent cry. While the note was still settling to the floor, he swept up his sword from its stand and set out down the path. He left food in a pot over the fire and the door open. For the first time since his initial duel, he was afraid.
The honor of being chosen….
The old monk’s grave was easy to find in the cemetery near the crossroad. The marker was a square post of wood so new that it was white, the color of death. Having paid their most careful respects to a man they’d never seen, the three youths went on to the village.
They were met by a quiet little crowd, given rice and directions, and gravely embarrassed by the awe and gratitude of these faded peasants. The village, too, had that terrible melancholy of a thousand others, a new melancholy just eight days old. They left as soon as decorum permitted.
Erect and silent, the three traveled to the next village south. Again they were expected. There was much rice and bowing, both of which they returned. Now there were detailed descriptions of the man they were seeking. The dimensions of his body, strength and evil far exceeded the excellence of heroes. They continued to the next village south and then to the next, and suspense immobilized the province as ice stills the surface of a river.
Each of the three tried desperately to be ignorant of the myriad prayers that followed them. Nor did they look directly at the hundreds of boys and young men who studied them with reverence. Still boys themselves, they felt a deep sadness at this universal envy of a man willing to work very hard. And the envy of their beautiful and terrible mission. The air shimmered with silent whispering: One day I shall be a kind, good warrior dedicated to righting wrongs! The first chance I get. Even mothers murmured: If he has to leave us, let him leave like this, a pure, strong man with a cause as sublimely righteous.
They went southward to another village, and then one more. It was here that they found him.
The countryside was terrorized. Offended at some imagined slight, the Ronin had set fire to the biggest house in the village and stood with drawn sword to prevent any attempts to put it out. Then he discovered a young farm girl working in the millet field after the others had fled. She was the most beautiful virgin in the province and had great expectations. Being a man who lived in a state of acceleration, the Ronin combined his initial greeting and an invitation to the horizontal in the same sentence. Instead of salivating, she spat in his face.
Laughing as if he were amused, he took her to the inn and tied her to a rafter by her long jet hair. Just the tips of her toes touched the earthen floor. her refusal to weep or beg took the enjoyment out of his morning saké. Familiar with peasant propriety, he stripped her naked. A tempest of outrage swept the village; both men and women came in droves to peek through the shutters and be horrified.
He announced his intentions to the unseen audience in a loud, clear voice. This rude girl who shamed the most hospitable empire on earth, would hang from that rafter until she begged him politely to relieve the natural tension of her maidenhead. Time, of course, meant absolutely nothing to him; he was quite willing to stay here just as long as she was. And should any fool be rash enough to attempt her rescue, that man would find himself hanging beside her by his balls. He’d learned how to do this from the pirates of the Three Han.
At the time of the arrival of the three youths, the maiden had hung there a day, a night and now half of a second day, without food, water, tears or begging. The peasants’ tension had stretched to the point of general irritation that she was detaining him in the village so long with her pointless stubbornness.
It should not be assumed that the Ronin enjoyed the situation. His vanity was deeply wounded that the girl should prefer torture to his offer of the Ultimate Gallantry. He longed to bathe but that would look like a gesture of compromise; she must take him as he was. His departure must signify to everyone in the region that she was no longer a virgin and, further, that she had asked him to change her condition.
But as her inert body turned slowly on the rope, and her large toes traced two circles in the dust, his astonishment rose like a reluctant sun. He found himself in the very uncomfortable position of understanding her pointless pride. There were times that he wanted to embrace her gently and whisper, “Just ask and I swear I’ll leave the village at a run. For I am burdened with this same pride.”
The fact was that he didn’t really need her body, and anyway maidenheads are always more or less annoying.
The three youths were hurried in the back door of the Temple with reverence reserved for princes. There the best calligrapher among them wrote a formal request to the Great Lord of the Castle for permission to carry out their vendetta within the village precincts. It was denied immediately and emphatically. The Great Lord’s reply expatiated at great length on the evils of private revenge and expressed the hope that they would do nothing dishonorable during his absence. Away for an indefinite stay at the Capital, he would be completely powerless to prevent them from disturbing the peace, casting reflections on his honor and ridding the realm of a vile beast. The letter ended with the wholly extraneous information that he and his entire court were departing this same day.
For weeks retainers would be hurrying back to the Castle for necessaries they hadn’t had time to pack.
The three sent a second note to the Ronin himself. It requested his presence at the Bridge of the Gentle River’s Passing at the Hour of the Tiger on the following day. The purpose of the meeting was to straighten out certain matters pertaining to the abrupt decease of an elderly monk in the fifth village north. They signed with the new Zen names given them by their teacher
The Ronin’s brows rose. He’d never heard of any of them. This could mean that they were all master swords-men traveling under assumed names or fine new talent that he’d missed hearing of in his travels. He seemed more interested than concerned. He breathed deeply and sifted the air with his nose. There was no danger.
On an impulse, he tucked the letter between the girl’s buttocks. A corner stuck out like an impudent little rabbit’s tail. For some reason, the sight amused him. He began laughing uncontrollably, ended red-faced and gasping. No danger, no danger. He left the inn detailing loudly what would happen if the girl were touched.
Long before the Hour of the Tiger, the three young swordsmen arrived at the bridge, undressed and waded into the cold water to bathe as a samurai must before