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By Root 6685 0

out of the village unnoticed and were convinced that no further barrier lay between themselves and the honors of battle. When they reached the Shimmen encampment, however, they came face to face with the realities of war. They were told straightaway they would not be made samurai, not overnight nor even in a few weeks, no matter who their fathers had been. To Ishida and the other generals, Takezō and Matahachi were a pair of country bumpkins, little more than children who happened to have got their hands on a couple of lances. The best they could wangle was to be allowed to stay on as common foot soldiers. Their responsibilities, if they could be called that, consisted of carrying weapons, rice kettles and other utensils, cutting grass, working on the road gangs and occasionally going out as scouts.

“Samurai, ha!” said Takezō. “What a joke. General’s head! I didn’t even get near an enemy samurai, let alone a general. Well, at least it’s all over. Now what are we going to do? I can’t leave you here all alone. If I did, I could never face your mother or Otsū again.”

“Takezō, I don’t blame you for the mess we’re in. It wasn’t your fault we lost. If anybody’s to blame, it’s that two-faced Kobayakawa. I’d really like to get my hands on him. I’d kill the son of a bitch!”

A couple of hours later they were standing on the edge of a small plain, gazing out over a sea of reed like miscanthus, battered and broken by the storm. No houses. No lights.

There were lots of corpses here too, lying just as they had fallen. The head of one rested in some tall grass. Another was on its back in a small stream. Still another was entangled grotesquely with a dead horse. The rain had washed the blood away, and in the moonlight the dead flesh looked like fish scales. All around them was the lonely autumn litany of bellrings and crickets.

A stream of tears cleared a white path down Matahachi’s grimy face. He heaved the sigh of a very sick man.

“Takezō, if I die, will you take care of Otsū?”

“What are you talking about?”

“I feel like I’m dying.”

Takezō snapped, “Well, if that’s the way you feel, you probably will.” He was exasperated, wishing his friend were stronger, so he could lean on him once in a while, not physically, but for encouragement. “Come on, Matahachi! Don’t be such a crybaby.”

“My mother has people to look after her, but Otsū’s all alone in the world. Always has been. I feel so sorry for her, Takezō. Promise you’ll take care of her if I’m not around.”

“Get hold of yourself! People don’t die from diarrhea. Sooner or later we’re going to find a house, and when we do I’ll put you to bed and get some medicine for you. Now stop all this blubbering about dying!”

A little farther on, they came to a place where the piles of lifeless bodies made it look as if a whole division had been wiped out. By this time they were callous to the sight of gore. Their glazed eyes took in the scene with cold indifference and they stopped to rest again.

While they were catching their breath, they heard something move among the corpses. Both of them shrank back in fright, instinctively crouching down 6 with their eyes peeled and senses alerted.

The figure made a quick darting movement, like that of a surprised rabbit. As their eyes focused, they saw that whoever it was was squatting close to the ground. Thinking at first it was a stray samurai, they braced themselves for a dangerous encounter, but to their amazement the fierce warrior turned out to be a young girl. She seemed to be about thirteen or fourteen and wore a kimono with rounded sleeves. The narrow obi around her waist, though patched in places, was of gold brocade; there among the corpses she presented a bizarre sight indeed. She looked over and stared at them suspiciously with shrewd catlike eyes.

Takezō and Matahachi were both wondering the same thing: what on earth could bring a young girl to a ghost-ridden, corpse-strewn field in the dead of night?

For a time they both simply stared back at her. Then Takezō said, “Who are you?”

She blinked a couple of times, got to her