Finally, in complete collapse, the innkeeper said that everyone in her party could stay at the inn for two sen instead of the normal five. The woman snorted that she would permit herself to take advantage of the inn’s totally inadequate hospitality, but that even at two sen her servant and her grandson could sleep outside. She said it was the innkeeper who should be paying her for having to stay at such a flea-bitten hovel. The innkeeper retreated in disarray and confusion, leaving the servant girl to deal with his difficult guests.
Kaze enjoyed the spectacle but ate the rest of his dinner without talking to his weird companions in the common room. The trio did very little talking themselves, once the food was served. Kaze wondered what their vendetta was, especially since the woman’s headband said revenge, but he had had quite enough conversation with the aggressive old crone and therefore did not ask for details about the vendetta.
As he was finishing his meal, the serving girl brought another guest into the common room. Before they had completely entered the room, Kaze was already on his feet with his hand on his sword.
“You!” the new guest screamed in anger.
The startled serving girl took a step back, and the trio in the corner looked up in surprise. Kaze simply gave a nod of his head.
The young samurai that Kaze had marooned on the island placed his hand on his sword hilt. “I demand a duel with you, and none of your ‘no sword’ tricks!”
Kaze studied the young man for a moment, then he said, “I’m sorry if I tricked you. It’s in my nature to play such games.” He dropped to one knee, taking the posture of a soldier reporting to a general. “I humbly apologize for offending you.”
“You dog’s offal! You coward!” the young samurai said.
Kaze made no reply. Instead he remained in a humble position.
“No, it’s not good enough to apologize,” the young samurai said haughtily. “I insist on a duel. You have not only insulted me, you have insulted the entire Yagyu school of fencing. Such an insult can only be washed away with a duel.”
“All right,” Kaze said, “But let’s use wooden swords instead of steel. Since you want to demonstrate your swordsmanship, steel swords are not necessary.”
The young samurai looked at Kaze with contempt, branding him a coward. Still, he said, “Fine! Wooden swords only. Let’s do it right now and right here!”
“Let’s do it outside,” Kaze said quietly. He looked at the serving girl and said, “Fetch us two wooden staves, as long as katana. We’ll be outside.”
After looking at the two samurai fearfully, the serving girl scurried off to find two sticks of the proper length.
Kaze walked past the young samurai and made his way to the front of the inn. He put on his sandals and stepped outside into the dusty street. Behind him, the young samurai, the old woman, the servant, and the young man followed.
The girl quickly reappeared with the inn owner and his entire family in tow. She had two wooden sticks that she handed to each samurai with a bow. Kaze looked at his stick and took out his sword to cut down the handle into something resembling a real sword hilt. The young samurai took a strip of cloth and quickly tied up the sleeves of his kimono, crossing the strip across his back and looping it around each shoulder. He did this with a great deal of flash and panache, generating a few murmurs of approval from the small crowd. Smiling, he turned to face Kaze.
Kaze put his real sword into his sash and gripped his wooden stick with both hands. He took a formal fencing stance, with his eyes on the young samurai. The young samurai moved aggressively toward Kaze with a small shout, but Kaze stood his ground, his wooden sword not wavering.
The young samurai, a bit perplexed by Kaze’s lack of reaction to his feint, stood for a moment, figuring out his next move. Suddenly, with a loud shout, he attacked with all the quickness and fury that youth can muster, bringing his stick down in a slashing blow. Kaze met the blow with his own stick, and both men executed a kiri-otoshi. With the kiri-otoshi, the blocking of the opponent’s blow and the attacking counterblow are one motion, not two separate actions. The young samurai tried to counter with a kiri-otoshi of his own, jumping away from Kaze’s cut.
After the clack of the wooden swords, the young samurai looked at Kaze with both respect and surprise. “You’re a superb swordsman!” he exclaimed.
“Thank you,” Kaze said with a short bow. “Is your honor satisfied now?”
“Well, it was a draw, but I supposed I can be satisfied with that,” the young man said.
Kaze paused, then said, “All right then. Let us call it a draw.”
“You don’t think it was a draw?” the young samurai said.
“If your honor is satisfied, then that’s what is important.”
“Are you saying it wasn’t a draw?”
“It was a draw.”
“You are saying that, but do you believe it was a draw?”
Kaze said nothing. The young samurai threw his stick on the ground. “My honor is not satisfied,” he said. “I insist we have a rematch, but this time with steel!”
“Please, let’s not fight with steel swords. A rematch with wooden swords will do to settle the point.”
“So you are a coward after all,” the young samurai said.
“If you wish to believe so,” Kaze answered.
“Fight!” The young man drew his sword. “Fight or I’ll cut you down where you stand.”
Kaze dropped the stick and drew his own sword. “I wish you wouldn’t do this,” Kaze said. Instead of answering, the young samurai advanced on Kaze, his sword held at the pointing-at-the-eye position. Once again Kaze stood his ground, waiting for the young man’s attack. The young man came to within attack distance and warily watched the older samurai. He was waiting for a lapse in concentration, some momentary interruption that would give him an opportunity to push past Kaze’s guard and strike a fatal blow. He saw none. The seconds crawled past, with the onlookers as mesmerized by the duel as the two participants. Suddenly, the young samurai attacked again, rushing forward with a great shout as he first raised his sword and brought it down in a blow designed to slash Kaze’s neck.
Once again, Kaze did a kiri-otoshi, but this time the sword bit into the flesh of the young man. Surprised, the young man staggered back and looked down at his side, where a crimson stain was now spreading. He dropped his sword and clutched at his side, swaying slightly, then dropping to his knees from pain and weakness.
“Baka! Fool!” Kaze shouted. “You’re too young to play with your life as foolishly as I do! You’re also too stupid to play such dangerous games, challenging strangers to duels when you lack the judgment to see if you would win or lose in a mock conflict with wooden swords. The difference between victory and death in a sword duel is in the blink of an eye or the width of a finger. It’s too fine a difference to judge if you have no experience. I pray to the Kannon that I haven’t struck a vital organ with my cut. I tried to pull back so you would be wounded and not killed. I’ve killed enough in this district, and I’m sick of it. I especially don’t want the killing of any more youngsters like you, who are too young and too stupid to know their own limitations and lack of skill.”
Kaze looked at the landlord and the maid. “Take him into the inn and get him a doctor. He should live if we stop the bleeding now, so hurry.”
The maid and the innkeeper rushed forward as ordered and helped the young samurai, now pasty white from loss of blood and shock, into the inn. Kaze wiped his blade on the sleeve of his kimono and stomped into the inn after them, with the old woman and her two companions bringing up the rear.
Kaze returned to the inn and picked up his bowl to resume eating. The other three guests did the same, but this time the old woman was not anxious to disturb Kaze’s privacy. At the end of the meal, as the servant girl was taking away his tray, she leaned into him and whispered conspiratorially, “That duel was superb! When all are asleep, I’ll come to your room tonight. I still want to repay you for what you did for me.”