Sword of the Heart

Toshiro’s blade plows through the future carcasses in front of him like a knife through water.  He spares no effort in terminating all that stand in his way.  His keen, eagle-like eyes turn sharply and focus on a lone, timid figure standing in the light, thick fog of the forest enclosure.  It is a woman.  Her Kimono sways back and forth with the incoming visible fog as it passes through her.  She shudders as if a thousand spirits are attacking her.  Toshiro raises his blade with a mad and crazed look in his eyes and then hesitates.  “Woman.  If you value your life, you will run and tell your superiors you have seen nothing.”   The woman says nothing and Toshiro again bellows, “Woman!  I say to you again!  Go now and you shall live!  Stay and you join these dead!”  The woman’s tears run down her face like bloody scars.  She quickly takes out a dagger and stabs herself.  The woman’s dead body falls to the floor, dead.  “Stupid fool.  I gave you a chance to live.”  Toshiro mumbles, sheathing his sword.  “Master!”  A voice cries out, emerging from the dark fog.  Toshiro slaps himself awake as he escapes out of the daydream--or nightmare he just had.  He looks towards the direction of the voice that cried out to him and lets out a sigh of relief.  It is Miko, one of Toshiro’s hired scouts.  “What is it, Miko?  Anything useful over there?” 

“No, Master.  Just a few empty houses.”  Miko almost stutters as he takes a moment to take his Master’s intimidating stare.

“No sign of anyone living in them--at all?”  Toshiro presses.

“No Master.” 

“Damn.  How does he expect me to find the traitors if each place he sends me I find no one.”  Toshiro sighs as he ties on his bamboo-made hat. 

“Master, do you think they know when we are coming?”  Miko states, handing his master, Toshiro, his sake bottle.  “Can’t see why they would know.  You haven’t told our victims about us, have you?”  Toshiro grumbles amusingly as Miko shakes his head fearfully. 

“This is too patterned, my disciple.  These people know we are coming.  It is too reminiscent of what happened to our last party.”  Toshiro takes a rest on a nearby tall oak.  The events that have unfolded in the last few weeks have troubled him greatly. 

The orders from General Kirowa have not been easy to follow.  He has traversed great distances with his party and he is quickly running out of money and supplies.  It’s the first of its kind, a roaming samurai-led party of killers. 

Normally, Toshiro would never associate with the scum that are in his party, but he truly and honestly believes that the Shogun and General’s intentions are good and will bear real results.  “Master?”  A curiously annoying Miko interrupts Toshiro’s concentration.  “Yes, Miko?”  “Master, the party has retired to the nearby village.  They await your next command.”  “They went inside the village?  How do they know if there isn’t a plague or pestilence in that village?  Decent Samurai are so hard to find.”  Toshiro shrugs as he heads towards the village.

Toshiro’s eyes widen slightly as he surveys the seemingly endless trail of fire and devastation around him and his group.  “Master, this shows no signs of any groups we know of.”  One scout reported.  “Miko--” Toshiro mumbles, bowing his head.  “Inform General Kirowa that we have found the first piece of the puzzle.”  “Master?” Miko scratches his head out of confusion.  “He will know what I speak of, Miko.  Deliver the message.”  Toshiro orders, proceeding to a nearby dwelling where the wood has not burnt all the way.  He slowly places his hand on his sheath.  His eyes wander with exact aim throughout the interior of the hut.  Inside the small hut, there is a slight smell of firewood.