Ogata could see that Inoue was extremely nervous.
They stood outside the doors of the salt storehouse awaiting Matsudaira Gennai’s arrival, and Inoue had repeatedly drawn his handkerchief to wipe cold sweat from his forehead.
The man was already past forty—an age considered elderly in the Edo period.
Watching his legs tremble uncontrollably, Ogata could not help worrying about him.
“Inoue-sama, are you all right?” he asked.
“Would you like to try taking a few deep breaths? It might make you feel better.”
“No.” Inoue shook his head with a bitter smile.
“There’s no need. I’ve taken so many deep breaths that my chest has begun to hurt…”
Compared with his superior, Ogata was perfectly relaxed.
Once Matsudaira Gennai arrived, he only had to kneel.
Beyond bowing to welcome his lord, nothing else was expected of him.
He therefore felt little anxiety.
In fact, he hoped Gennai would inspect the salt storehouse as soon as possible so they could all be released from this ordeal.
* * *
While they waited, another samurai hurried toward them.
Ogata recognized him as a fellow storehouse official, though they were not acquainted.
He knew only that the man was a colleague and did not even know his name.
The official stopped before them and announced urgently, “Our lord is approaching! Make ready at once!”
The instant the words left his mouth, Inoue turned to Ogata and the others.
“Quickly! Kneel! Our lord is here!”
Inoue dropped to both knees first and bowed so deeply that his forehead nearly touched the earth.
Ogata and the other officials immediately followed.
The air seemed to solidify.
Inoue and Ogata’s colleagues slowed their breathing, hardly daring to make a sound.
Their tension finally made Ogata a little nervous as well.
Gradually, he heard approaching footsteps and hoofbeats from his left.
Judging by their volume, the party was large.
With both hands braced upon the ground and his forehead lowered nearly to the dirt, Ogata could see nothing beyond the soil before the tip of his nose.
He naturally could not observe the procession approaching the salt storehouse.
Nor did he dare try. This chapter was copied from g.com without permission.
In this age, raising one’s head to look upon one’s lord without permission was an act of grave presumption.
Ogata had no intention of testing the law and inviting needless trouble merely to satisfy his curiosity.
The dense footsteps and hoofbeats soon stopped directly in front of them.
Tap.
Tap.
Ogata heard two feet strike the ground.
Someone who had been riding had apparently dismounted.
“Raise your heads.”
The man’s voice was exceptionally cold, as though it contained no emotion whatsoever.
“Thank you, my lord!” Inoue cried, and the others voiced their gratitude in unison.
When Ogata lifted his head, he saw a young man standing a short distance away.
The youth wore a kimono of pale yellow.
Ogata knew little about clothing, but even he could tell that its fabric was of the highest quality.
He wondered how many years of his own stipend would be required to purchase such a garment.
The wakizashi at the young man’s waist appeared equally expensive from its hilt and saya alone.
His face was extraordinarily pale.
At first Ogata assumed that the whiteness came from cosmetic powder, but a closer look proved otherwise.
He wore no makeup.
His complexion was naturally bloodless and unsettling.
His lips were thin and as devoid of color as his face.
Narrow, spiritless eyes gave him an air of perpetual indifference.
Young, dressed in exquisite clothes, and wearing a precious sword—his identity was unmistakable.
He was Matsudaira Gennai, daimyō of the Hirose Domain and Ogata’s lord.
Behind Gennai stood an immensely tall and powerfully built man whom Ogata recognized at once: Nanahara Mataichirō, reputed to be the finest swordsman in the entire Hirose Domain.
Among the domain’s samurai, Nanahara’s name was known to everyone.
His title as Hirose’s greatest swordsman was not the product of empty praise.
Nanahara possessed menkyo kaiden in Itō Ittō-ryū.
By the Edo period, schools of swordsmanship had begun awarding certificates or scrolls according to a disciple’s level of attainment.
In most traditions, the stages from lowest to highest were kirigami, mokuroku, and menkyo kaiden.
Sakakibara Ittō-ryū used the same progression.
Kirigami was its lowest certificate, while menkyo kaiden was its highest.
Whatever sequence a school might employ, its supreme license was almost always menkyo kaiden.
What did it mean to hold a school’s menkyo kaiden?
It meant that, when challenged to a duel, a swordsman might need only produce that certificate to make his opponent’s legs tremble.
The license carried enormous weight precisely because it was so difficult to earn.
Since the establishment of the Sakakibara Dojo, for example, not a single disciple had successfully received menkyo kaiden in Sakakibara Ittō-ryū.
Admittedly, this was partly because the dojo was still young.
Only a few years had passed since its founding, and Ogata himself belonged to its first generation of students.
Even so, regardless of the tradition, anyone who obtained menkyo kaiden was unquestionably a warrior of the highest order.
Nanahara, who held that license in Itō Ittō-ryū, was exactly such a man.
According to rumor, he had once fought ten opponents simultaneously.
In that desperate battle, despite being outnumbered ten to one, Nanahara relied upon his extraordinary swordsmanship to cut down all ten in succession.
Victory against ten men by himself was enough to reveal how terrifying his ability truly was.
That transcendent skill had earned him the favor of the previous lord.
Many years ago, Nanahara had been assigned to Matsudaira Gennai’s side as his personal bodyguard, a duty he continued to perform to this day.
For that reason, he had become the object of admiration for nearly every samurai in the Hirose Domain who hoped to earn a living through swordsmanship.
Nanahara was a man who had risen swiftly through the ranks by the sword alone—and countless warriors envied him for it.
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