Masashi looked northeast, and saw the glow coming from the horizon. Amaterasu had set only two hours before, so unless some celestial event was occurring, there was almost certainly a fire. Since the coming year was due in only a matter of days, he did not think anything untoward of the glow. But it did give him hope; a nearby village would mean that tomorrow he could sleep inside.

As he set up his yurt, he began to hear something, coming from the direction of the glow. It sounded like a bell, tolling over and over. Once he focused on it, he started to catch a scent on the breeze: something was burning. He looked back towards the fiery glow; it had gotten bigger. He wrapped the yurt back up quickly, tying it tight with rough straps of cloth. Slinging it over his back, he hurried northeast.

A few miles later, as he cleared the tree line, he saw what had happened: a section of the hoped-for village was on fire. People scurried about the building, scooping snow onto the flames, and throwing the few buckets of water they’d had readily available on it as well. He scanned the area, looking for anyone skulking away. There were footprints that led in and away from the woods, near where he was standing. He must have come close to them on his way over, passed them and kept going without realizing it.

One of the people with a shovel happened to look his way, and noticed him standing there. He pointed, and started shouting; it seemed they thought he was one of the arsonists returning. Masashi held his hands clear to the side, and walked forward slowly. “My name is Seppun Masashi; I am an Emerald Magistrate, in the area seeking a few Ronin. Can I offer my assistance?”

At the announcement of who he was, everyone stopped, and turned towards him, hurrying to bow. As their attention waned, the flames began to extend again. Masashi rushed forward, shrugging off the yurt onto the ground, and scooping up a shovel and went to work. Activity resumed around him; they worked for almost another hour, controlling the flames so they would not spread. Finally the sheds had burnt down, the ashes cooling.

He could see several piles of rice, and burnt sacks, in the middle of the former building. Masashi looked for someone in charge, and saw the corpses lying on the ground. He sighed, noting the badge that one of them wore identified him as a doshin. An elderly man approached, and all the others moved aside deferentially. He bowed low to Masashi, “Lord Seppun, I am Achiro, the Elder of Ahi Mura.”

“Ahi Mura,” Masashi repeated, then focused his attention to Achiro. “Honored Elder,” he replied, giving the man a slight bow. He saw the man’s eyes widen somewhat, in surprise. He likely did not get so much acknowledgement from the samurai he called Lord. “I was moving through the forest on my way here, pursuing a ronin named Daijo, and a few of his like-minded compatriots.”

“Honored Magistrate, that was the ronin that attacked us, and stole rice.” Achiro then hesitated, looking side-to-side. “If your Lordship wishes more warmth, my daughter makes a delicious spiced tea; it will warm you well.”

Belatedly realizing that he had been keeping everyone out in the cold simply by his presence, Masashi responded, “Hai, Honored Elder. I thank you for the courtesy.” He motioned for Achiro to lead the way. A young man, likely still a boy, came up, and took Achiro’s arm, helping steady the old man. The boy was covered with sweat and soot; Masashi recalled seeing him working tirelessly to stop the fire. “Your grandson, Achiro, worked very hard tonight.”

“His dedication honors us all, Lord Seppun.”

“Please, Honored Elder, I am not the Lord Seppun, simply one of his and The Emperor’s servants.”

“As you say, Seppun-sama.” The boy opened the door, bowed to his grandfather, and hurried inside, announcing Masashi’s arrival to the household. There was a bustle of activity as the occupants hurried to ready it for a samurai. Masashi waited momentarily, so he would not cause them shame if he were to see their house unprepared. The elder waited with him, in the cold, but to his credit Masashi did not see him shiver once.

After a brief moment, the grandson stuck his head back out and bowed, “Grandfather, the house is ready.” Achiro motioned for Masashi to precede him inside, which he did, finding the house to be very clean and orderly.

“A well-arranged home,” Masashi said to him, and allowed Achiro to lead him to the meeting room. Accepting the compliment courteously, the elder took Masashi there. After they had been seated, Masashi continued. “I have come here to Ahi Mura in my duties as Emerald Magistrate, pursuing a ronin; he had been going by Daijo in Nanashi Mura.”

“Hai, Seppun-sama,” Achiro said, “He has gone by that name here as well.”

“Was he the one responsible for the fires?”

“Hai, Seppun-sama.” He paused, and Masashi motioned for him to continue. “He came here demanding that we give him rice, from the supplies we hold in trust for the Governor, Isawa Kogare. We refused his demands, and he left after threatening us. Tonight we awoke to the flames in our storehouses, and my grandson, Saru, was one of the first to rush to combat it.

“I awoke slowly; my age does me little credit when time requires me to be quick. I arrived only to see Fukari, our doshin, fall to two arrows in his chest. Saru started to run forward, to attack Daijo I presumed, but I caught his arms, and my love for him and fear of losing him was all that let me keep my hold.”

Masashi nodded, listening politely. “Your grandson, perhaps, saw more? Would you bring him in so that I may speak to him?”

Achiro nodded, then rose and went to the door. It slid open at his approach, and a woman entered with a pot of tea, and two cups. The elder took it from her, and whispered to her, then she left, sliding the door shut. He sat back down, across from Masashi, and poured tea for the Magistrate. Masashi then took the pot, and poured for Achiro. They both lifted their cups in salute, and sipped it.

“Ahh, very excellent!” Masashi exclaimed, taking a full drink before setting it down again. “I’ve never had a similar tea; does it grow here?”

“No, Seppun-sama; this tea is a blend with a couple of spices. I do not know where my daughter finds them all, only that I find them here, when she’s kind enough to make it for me.” The last he added with a slight smile, as though enjoying a private joke.

“My compliments to her; she is as skilled as you are wise, Achiro.” He gave the elder a salute with his tea cup, and took a second drink. Just then the door to the room slid open, and the woman that had brought the tea, whom Masashi guessed to be Achiro’s daughter, entered again, kneeling at once.

“A thousand apologies, Lord Seppun, Honored Father; Saru is not here. It appears that he stole a tilling rake, and rushed into the woods after those ronin.” Masashi heard the pain in her voice, and grimaced. Daijo would have no hesitation in facing a boy armed with a rake, and she knew that as well as he.

“I should leave immediately,” Masashi said, rising. “I must chase Daijo, and with the Kami’s guidance, find your grandson as well.” He nodded to Achiro. “I thank you for both your hospitality and your daughter’s excellent tea.”

“Seppun-sama, are you certain you will not stay the night? It is quite late, and you must have certainly travelled far today. It is very likely that Daijo will not travel far until the morning.” It clearly pained Achiro to say; he too was worried for Saru.

“Your offer is beyond generous Honored Elder, but I must decline. If Daijo is to camp, then my best chance for gaining on him is this night.” He stepped towards the door, and the woman moved quickly aside. “I will return.”

<^>

Saru moved quickly, but not quietly. The trail was easy to follow by Lord Moon’s half-light; Daijo and his two surviving ronin were not making any effort towards concealment. A twinge of guilt tickled the back of his mind, regretting the circumstances in which he left. He was certain that the samurai would come after the bandits in the morning, but Daijo needed to come to judgment tonight.

He had strapped the rake to his back with a rope, but the weight carried somewhat awkwardly. It required a constant adjustment, and kept catching on the branches overhead. Not your brightest idea ever… he thought, though he couldn’t think of any particularly bright ideas he’d ever had on his own.

After an hour of following the path, Lord Moon had nearly disappeared from the Heavens, and he knew Amaterasu would soon rise. Ahead, though, he had hope: a campfire in a space he knew to be a clearing. He had played often enough in these woods years back. His father had been a hunter, and worked through the woods every so often to keep scavengers away from their village. Had been, until a bear had decided that she did not want to be shown where to live.

Since then, six years ago, Saru had been obligated to farm, as had been his father’s wishes. The Governor had sent his own Hunt Master to track down the bear, and had technically avenged his father. Buro was still dead, however. Since then Saru had longed to get away from Ahi Mura, to learn other skills than how to till the ground, and where to plant the rice in which type of soil.

And now you’re here… he thought, as a branch caught the tiller and tugged him back. He stumbled, caught unexpectedly, but then untangled himself and continued on.

After a few minutes more, he could hear voices ahead of him. He crouched and crept forward, seeing the clearing ahead of him with the fire crackling. As he got to the edge of the clearing, he saw someone facing against two others; the two he recognized as Daijo, and the bandit whose arm had been wounded by Fukari. The third figure, he realized, was the Seppun Magistrate.

The Seppun pointed to Daijo, “You will return the rice, and surrender to the mercy of the Emperor.”

“No, we will not, Seppun-san,“ Daijo replied. “You are welcome to try and take it from us, however. I invite you to try.”

“You and your gang cannot stand before the Emperor’s Justice. You will fall if you stand against me.” The Seppun put his hand to the hilt of his katana, glaring down Daijo.

Saru heard a sound off to his left, and he turned his head to look. The third bandit was standing there, arrow drawn back, aiming at the magistrate. Saru did not think; he reacted. He scooped snow with one hand, and launched it into the face of the bandit.

The bandit stumbled, surprised, and the arrow flew loose, but wildly off-target. The snap of the string made all three samurai turn, though the Seppun took the most advantage of it, drawing his katana and moving in.

Saru un-slung his till rake, and swept it at the archer, who tried to step back. The rake caught his sleeve, and jerked him forward, off balance. The bandit stumbled, but caught himself, and set his feet apart.

“You should have stayed back in town, little boy.” He tried to shake his arm free, but only got it more tangled. With a snarl, he drew out the thick blade from his obi. Saru lunged forward, wrenching back the entangled arm, and slamming it into the bandit. He dropped his sword and snarled in pain. A bloodstain began to spread from where the rake must have cut his arm.

With a renewed burst of strength, the bandit grabbed the pole-handle of the rake, and ripped it out of Saru’s grasp. Saru stepped back, his hands sore from the loss of his only weapon. The bandit pulled it free of his sleeve, and disdainfully tossed it to the ground. The he leapt at Saru, and knocked him to the ground. Saru rolled, and slipped away, stumbling to his feet and started running.

He stopped abruptly seconds later, as he saw the Seppun flick the blood from his katana before returning it to the saya at his side. Both Daijo and the other bandit lay dead. The magistrate was untouched.

“Gaki’s teeth!” the last bandit cursed from behind Saru.

<^>

Masashi looked up, hearing a curse from where the peasant boy had been fighting the third bandit. He touched his hand to the hilt of his katana again, and leveled his gaze past the boy, who ran and hid behind him. The bandit stopped, slipping in the snow, but keeping his feet.

He spread his arms out at his sides, “I am unarmed; I surrender myself to the Emperor’s Justice.” A small bit of blood ran from the inside of his arm, and dripped onto the white snow. Masashi looked to it, then back to the bloodstain on the bandit’s sleeve. The bandit’s eyes widened, and he shook his head vigorously, “No maho! It wasn’t maho. The boy cut me with his… his weapon.”

“Is that true?” Masashi asked, not looking away from the bandit.

“Yes, Seppun-dono,” the boy said from behind him. Masashi nodded, and released his katana. “Carry two of the sacks of rice back to the town. Boy, get the other one. Bandit, you will lead.”

“Saru,” the boy said from behind Masashi. “My name is Saru, Seppun-dono.”

This time, Masashi did look back, to see the boy standing straight, eyes respectfully averted. “Very well, Saru,” he said, a slight smile tugging on his mouth, “Carry one of the sacks of rice.”

Saru nodded, “Hai, Seppun-dono.” He went and recovered his till-rake, and then shouldered one of the sacks, after the last bandit had brought them out.

As they walked back to Ahi Mura, Masashi stepped up alongside Saru. “What you did was very brave; coming out here to recover the rice for your town.”

“Thank you, Seppun-dono. I’m afraid I would have died, though, if you had not come.”

“Do not be afraid, Saru; be certain.” Masashi looked down at the young man, “Your action may have been foolish, but had you not come, I likely would have been shot by the archer. Then no justice would have been brought. You acted hastily, but along the correct course.”

“What should I have done, Seppun-dono? My whole life I have wanted to do more, but I am a farmer, born to a life of farming.”

“Yes, you are. I, too, was born a child. But I grew, and I learned, and I became more. You too, Saru, can learn and grown.” With that, Masashi lengthened his stride until he was ahead of Saru, pacing alongside the bandit.

<^>

They entered the town as Amaterasu’s light broke the horizon. A crowd began to gather as they placed the sacks of rice in one of the few sheds still standing. They knelt as one to Masashi, thanking the kami for answering their prayers. Two guardsmen in Shiba colors walked over to the three, and took the bandit into their custody. Saru slipped away, and brought his grandfather back.

After a short meeting with the guards, Masashi was happy to accept the hospitality of Achiro, and returned to the meeting room he had left hurriedly just hours before. After a cup of spiced tea, and a plate of delicious fried rice with diced roots, he allowed himself a contented sigh.

“Your grandson brought honor to your family, Achiro,” Masashi said, bringing the conversation away from the coming New Year festivities. “He defeated Kanu himself, while I was faced again Daijo and Egoru.”

Achiro nodded, “Yes, Saru. He is often given to imagining himself a brave warrior; that he took such a task upon himself did not surprise me. His success, however, did. Not to imply I think little of him; however facing a trained and armed bandit with a till-rake is much different from light-hearted fighting with the village’s doshin.”

“Fukari trained his arm well, if not his judgment. But that is something that can be learned in time,” Masashi said. “Though with Fukari’s passing, the village is left without a doshin; is that not so?”

“It is… Are you suggesting that Saru become a doshin?”

“That appointment would be best left to Isawa-sama, I think. But becoming a doshin is not a process that needs to be denied to him. He is strong-willed, and if he does not learn discipline soon, then he may not find life here to be enjoyable.”

Achiro bowed his head, “I will discipline him sharply for running out, Seppun-dono.”

“That was not my intent,” Masashi replied. “Rather, I was thinking that I may be able to provide for his discipline. He did save my life, and that is not something I will ever forget. With your permission as your family Elder, I will take Saru as my budoka. With training, he can serve the Empire in great capacity, and when he is ready, he may return here as a doshin.”

The door slid open suddenly, and Saru threw himself flat, “Yes, Seppun-dono! Grandfather, please allow it! I will serve you, and learn everything you teach.”

“Seppun-dono, my apologies,” Achiro began, but trailed off as Masashi held up a hand.

“This will not be an easy path to walk, Saru. Indeed, there may be many times that you will wish you were here, planting your rice.”

“Hai, Seppun-dono. It may be as you say, but I will bear the burdens.”

Masashi nodded, “For your sake, Saru, I hope that you will.”

<^>

Kiara-chan,

I have had very good fortune this last week. Following Hekaro’s lead, I was able to catch the bandits, although not before they had brought some destruction to a Phoenix town. The bandits, though, were brought to justice. One was slain by the village doshin, Fukari, and two more by me. The last was defeated by a young peasant man, Saru, and surrendered himself to the Emperor’s Justice. He has since been taken to Isawa Kogare-sama’s estate for punishment.

Saru showed excellent potential, and his family elder has permitted me to take him, and train him as a budoka. If you could have a room prepared in anticipation of his needs, it would do us honor. I also believe that a sodegarami would be an appropriate weapon for him to learn. I further have been invited to remain in Ahi Mura for the New Year’s celebration. As I would not be able to make fast enough time to be home before this celebration, I have accepted their invitation.

Send my love to our children.

Masashi