The Eye of the Kami

Gintaro sped down the path as fast as Goro would go, which to his surprise, was exceedingly fast. The horse did not at first appear to have such strong legs, but it was as if he could feel Gin’s urgency and sense his need. The beast huffed and heaved violently as it drove its hooves into the ground. All Gin could do was lean down and navigate the tortuous path down the slope as quickly as possible. Eventually, they reached Kokoro village, and he glanced around quickly for any signs of disturbance. It seemed like business as usual in the small village, if anything it was slightly quieter, which was to be expected following a festival. If his daughter had been taken and brought through town, surely someone would have noticed. He pulled into the village square and brought Goro to a halt. He spun around, looking, searching for anything that would help him find out where they might be.

“They wouldn't dare try to hide here in the valley,” he thought. “They would soon be spotted by any of the myriad farmers. Besides, the paddies would be nearly impossible to navigate at night. And there is nowhere to hide here in the village, even if he did have an accomplice, for there are too many nosey neighbors. They must be trying to leave, and the quickest way out would be by the road. There were dozens of small paths, like the one to his house, but only two that connected to the main roads. But which way would they go? North or south?”

His mind was racing. Every second, every moment he wasted was another one that he failed Yukiana. His best chance of catching them was on their way out of the valley. If he lost them now, it would be nearly impossible to find them in the wide countryside.

Suddenly, a child came up and tugged on the bottom of his yukata.

“Goto-san went that way,” the boy said, pointing towards the northern road. “He had a sword too.”

“Goto-san? Why did he have a sword?” Gin asked.

The boy shrugged but was eyeing the sword in Gin’s hand apprehensively. “Is something going on?”

“No!” he hissed. “But I would get home if I were you!”

He spun the horse towards the northern road and kicked hard so that Goro neighed loudly but sped off with great haste.

Several minutes later, he was starting to regret having taken a child’s advice. There was nothing but dense forests of trees, bamboo, and the dirt road that he was now on. His horse was doing well but was beginning to show signs of fatigue. He had almost forgotten how blisteringly hot it was. There was a small stream that ran parallel to the path beside him, so he took a moment to collect himself and allow his horse to drink. The thirsty beast quickly lowered his head and sucked in water, its large belly heaving in and out from exhaustion.

Gin stood still, lost in thought. “I'm losing them!” he finally shouted aloud in frustration.

“Gin-san…” a weak voice sounded, as if in response.

He spun his head around, searching for the sudden voice.

“Who’s there?” he called.

“Gin-san…” the voice came again, even softer this time.

He moved in the direction of the voice, which was coming from the opposite side of the path. As he examined the ground from which the sound came, he came to see the outline of a figure in the tall grass. He quickly stooped down beside the body, but as he did so, he noticed a red pool of blood underneath it.

“Goto!” Gin cried, aghast at the carnage. There was a large slash wound across his right side, and it was bleeding badly. “What happened?” Goto’s upper chest was taking slow and shallow breaths, with blood spilling down from his mouth as well. He tried swallowing but ended up coughing up even more blood. Eventually, he was able to speak.

“The merchant…I saw him coming this way with your daughter. He emerged from the…the forest. I knew…I knew something was wrong. She screamed when she saw me. I had my sword…” he said, glancing over at the blade that was lying on the ground next to him, drowned in blood. “I rushed and caught him on the arm, but then he turned and…” He coughed again, and even darker, almost black blood emerged from both his mouth and side. His eyes were beginning to close as if he could not keep them open. “Keep going!” Goto commanded, rousing himself once more. “He's up…up ahead.”

Gin stared at the dying man, tears wetting his eyes and deeper and more visceral anguish filling his heart. “You’ve earned a warrior’s death, Goto-san,” he whispered. “I will avenge you. I swear it!” His fierce eyes met Goto’s, which had opened once again on hearing his words.

Goto moved his head to nod but could only just barely tilt it in Gin’s direction.

“Go…” he gurgled. “Go!”

Gin took Goto’s sword and plunged it straight down into the ground by his side, which was the usual way to honor a fallen soldier on the battlefield when there was no time for a proper burial. He then stood up and quickly mounted his steed. With rejuvenated legs, Goro-Goro carried him onwards with its rider slipping deeper and deeper into madness.

After a time, which seemed indeterminable to the desolate mind of Gintaro, he came to see several figures off in the distance. He gripped his sword tighter and bent lower, to disguise himself behind Goro’s billowing mane. As he approached, he could make out six distinct people, and one dark horse behind them. There, atop the horse, he could see one slender frame draped over its back.

“Yukiana!” he gasped and forced Goro on even faster.

The group had noticed him as well, as they had all turned to face him.

“Halt!” one of them cried. “Show yourself!”

“Could it be?” Gin wondered, eyeing them carefully. Five of the men were wearing the sigil of the local daimyō, a white koi on a blue field. They were well-armored and carried swords, which meant that they were all retainers at some level. “A patrol, perhaps? But why are they here? Have they arrested this man who took my daughter?”

Gin slowed the horse but kept his distance. He was now focused on the sixth man, who was standing behind the group wrapping his left forearm in linen. It was spotted red with blood. “That must be the injury caused by Goto,” he judged, studying him intently. “It is the same grim-looking merchant I saw yesterday at the festival.”

Without the large shade to disguise his features, Gin could get a better look at him, but he was repulsed by what he saw. The kidnapper was a vile-looking man, with long, wild black hair. His face was like that of a mangy dog, dirty and unkempt. His teeth looked jagged from what he could see from the disturbing smile he wore. His eyes were locked onto Gintaro, and he did not seem to blink. He was like a snake inspecting a foe with an inscrutable mind.

“Papa!”

His head jerked to see his daughter, her hands and legs bound, lying across the large black steed ahead of him. Her eyes were bloodshot, her face pale and dirty, her clothes disheveled.

“Yukiana!” Instinctively, Gin jumped down from Goro’s back and ran towards her. The group of five retainers edged forward to meet him.

“Sir, please stop!” one of the men commanded, this time more intensely.

“This is my daughter!” Gin screamed, his voice cracking, as his eyes could barely stand to see her bound to the back of a beast. “Arrest this man!” he cried, pointing towards the merchant. His arm was shaking with fury. “Arrest him right now! He is trying to take…”

But by then the men had surrounded him. They grabbed his arms and forced him to the ground.

“That is my daughter!” Gin roared, and tears welled in his eyes. His helpless gaze bounced back and forth between Yukiana and the merchant, who had finished wrapping his arm and was staring back at him with a look of vague interest. “That is my daughter!”

“Let go of your sword!” one of the samurai said, kicking him hard in the stomach, knocking the air out of him. “Disobeying an order from one of the daimyō’s men is the same as disobeying an order from the daimyō himself!” another man cried, tugging at his fingers, still gripped like a vice around the scabbard.

In Gin’s mind, it felt like he was fading, as things were becoming quiet and dull. The heat from the sun, the pain in his chest, the hands groping at him, all were becoming muffled, distorted. “Could it be?” he thought dreamily, “That even the daimyō is out to destroy me? But why not kill me? If I was the offender why not take me instead? Why take my sweet, innocent daughter? What has she ever done? How is it that men could be so cruel, so evil? What can a man do against such bleak darkness?”

“Papa!”

Her ear-splitting cry tore through the haziness like a knife. Gin’s eyes opened wide, and his pupils dilated with a burst of adrenaline. He extended his right arm upwards in a flash so that the blunt end of his sword’s hilt smashed into one man’s nose and drove upward into his skull. He felt three pairs of hands suddenly release him, and he was able to stand once again. He turned and whipped his body around quickly and struck another man in the jaw with the edge of his scabbard. He could feel it crack upon impact. By now the other men were drawing their weapons, but they were not as fast as he was. Gin grabbed one of the warrior’s short swords out of its sheath and immediately plunged it back into the gap in the armor right below the neck. From his side, one man swung at him, but he dodged it, and thrust the end of his scabbard into the man’s throat, causing him to lurch backward, struggling to breathe. There was one warrior left, and he was hesitating after seeing his comrades fall almost simultaneously. Gin’s eyes were still open wide, filled with wild rage. He sprang forward and lifted his arms high over his head. When he brought them down with his sheathed sword, not even a sturdy helmet could save the samurai, as his head crumpled, spilling its contents onto the earth below.

Gin immediately wheeled around, just in time to see the merchant spur his horse onwards, with his daughter still detained. He whistled, and Goro strode up to him. With an effortless swoop, he mounted the horse and spurred him on as well. He could see his daughter ahead of him, bouncing up and down as the horse ran, and he was not going to let her out of his sight.

“Come on! Come on! Yukiana, I’m coming for you!” Gin shouted as Goro heaved forward. He was gaining on the merchant, who was galloping just ahead. The merchant turned his head back intermittently, eyeing his pursuer who was steadily growing nearer and nearer.

Gin pushed Goro as hard as he possibly could, and the beast was responding, carving up the ground with his hooves and spitting up chunks of earth in their wake. The horse’s eyes, like its rider’s, were wild with fury. Gin could see his daughter, the outlines of her face. She was bleeding. She was afraid. She was suffering.

“Papa!” she screamed, just before going limp.

Unexpectedly, an arrow whizzed just past Gin’s head so that it almost shaved his ear clean off. He looked up. He had been so focused on Yukiana that he had ignored the merchant, who had pulled out a short bow and was aiming straight at him with another arrow. Gin leaned hard left and did so just in time, as the arrow slammed into an oak behind them. The merchant was already stringing another arrow, so Gin pulled hard right and positioned himself directly behind them so that the merchant would have to completely turn around to get a clean shot.

The merchant countered by directing his horse over a little, which he could do with just the pressure of his legs. He was hoping to get a good enough angle to fire another shot. Gin followed him, staying as close behind as he possibly could. For several moments they went back and forth like this, but Gin knew that he could not maintain this pace. The merchant’s horse was fresh, while he had pushed Goro hard and in intense heat for too long. He had to make a move, and he had to make one soon.

He kicked Goro one last time, spurring him up towards the left flank of the merchant’s black steed. The merchant let loose an arrow, but Gin was ready for it and deflected it with his unsheathed sword. He then let go of the reins and leaped from Goro and directly onto the merchant.

This act momentarily caught the merchant by surprise, and Gin was nearly able to throw him off his horse. The merchant’s bow crashed and shattered upon the ground, but his other hand reached out just in time, and clutching Gin’s kimono, he was able to pull himself back up. They struggled with each other for a few moments, pushing, pulling, twisting, and trying to wrangle control while the horse sped on at a breakneck pace.

“My daughter!” Gin hissed, the veins in his neck bulging as he contended with the merchant.

The merchant said nothing, but flecks of spit erupted from his mouth as he fought back with all his might. His eyes were dark, black like the night, and were filled with hate.

Gin could feel his power waning against the younger man whose grip was like a vice. His muscles were contracting to their maximum, but they were slowly buckling under the pressure.

“How can this be?” he lamented to himself, feeling his arms quivering. “Have I really fallen this far behind?”

He was mere seconds away from total collapse so he did the first thing that crossed his mind. He lunged forward and slammed his head into the skull of his adversary. That very instant the pressure was released from him. It was only for a split second, but it was enough. Gin broke apart from the merchant and grasped the hilt of his blade, intending to unsheathe it and finish him off.

But to his horror, the sword did not come out. He had forgotten that the sword was rusted, and it did not release itself from the scabbard. Gin pulled with all his might but was unable to deliver the finishing blow. This was enough time for the merchant to respond, and this time he slammed Gin so hard in the face that he lurched back and toppled off the horse. His limp body struck the hard earth and rolled several times before it finally stopped, lying prone and still. The merchant looked back only once and then proceeded onwards, galloping down the path at top speed.

After a few moments, Gin’s eyes opened once again, but this time all he could do was listen to the distant pounding of hooves on the earth. They grew fainter by the moment until at last, they faded into silence. Tears filled his eyes and wet the soil underneath his head. His body was numb, and the haziness was returning.

“I am finished,” he moaned. “She is gone. It is over. It is all over.” He exhaled deeply, relaxed, and let himself be swallowed up by a sea of unconsciousness.