to become the devoted follower of a great warrior, he approached Zenta and asked to be accepted as a pupil.
One by one, Zenta’s other followers left, and Matsuzo soon discovered the reason why. A restlessness possessed Zenta like a disease. When they found well-paying work, he often decided to leave if he disliked the personality of his employer. On several occasions, they had to leave without pay, closely pursued by the fury of their recent master. The romantic tales failed to mention the unpleasant details in the life of a wandering ronin. Matsuzo learned to go for a week without a bath, to eat sweet potatoes when there was no money for rice.
But he stayed on with Zenta. Strangely, it was his love of the romantic tales that helped him to endure the hardships. If the famous hero Yoshitsune trudged many miles carrying luggage as a porter, then he could put up with a little discomfort, too.
As they walked, Matsuzo stole a glance at Zenta and saw that he showed no anxiety at all. Even with his clothes in tatters, the ronin didn’t seem to care whether or not he would be hired at the castle. The only question was, would he accept Lord Okudaira’s successor as his master?
The chamberlain could not possibly be an acceptable master, thought Matsuzo. The man was a usurper who was trying to gain his position by marrying his lord’s daughter. The local people had been heard to mutter about the White Serpent Ghost whenever the chamberlain’s marriage plan was mentioned, but when Matsuzo tried to question them about the connection, they would become evasive and refuse to meet his eye.
Only the superstitious villagers believed this ghost story, anyway, thought Matsuzo. He was much too intelligent to believe such nonsense. But he unconsciously quickened his steps, for night came very quickly in late October, and he felt an urge to reach the castle before it got dark.
The travelers now reached a thick grove of pine trees that formed a broad green belt around the castle. The trees served two purposes. They prevented the enemy from massing troops to attack the castle, and they screened the activities of the castle’s defenders.
Once inside the shadows of the pine grove, Matsuzo felt the air grow cooler. There was a slight breeze which caused little rustling noises around them. Involuntarily he looked at his feet as he walked and occasionally peered at the underbrush.
Zenta’s voice startled him. “Looking for the White Serpent Ghost? I heard the villagers say that the ghost is always accompanied by some eerie flute music. You’ll get plenty of warning when it comes.”
“I was afraid of tripping over a tree root,” Matsuzo said sheepishly. He decided to distract himself by composing a little poetry. In the military romances, the heroes of old were always composing poetry. It was the mark of a true warrior to dash off a few elegant verses in the midst of danger.
The stealthy sounds of . . .
That didn’t sound right. He tried again.
No birds sing
In the smothering darkness . . .
No, no, that wouldn’t do at all. He abandoned poetry when he saw that the pine forest was thinning out and more light was coming through the trees. Suddenly his heart jumped into his throat as he caught sight of something shiny and white. Then he realized that he was looking at a stretch of water reflecting a white wall. They had reached the outer moat of the castle.
Rising from the moat was a gray wall built of boulders cunningly fitted together. This stone base was surmounted by a white plastered wall containing little round windows. The holes looked like eyes, and the slate tiles on the roof of the wall resembled the scales of a reptile.
Slowly the two ronin crossed the bridge spanning the moat. They did not stop at the huge metal studded gate, which was opened only for persons of rank, but instead turned to a small side door. Zenta gave the door two hard thumps.
After what seemed like a long time, they heard sounds of people moving about. There was another long silence. Zenta raised his hand and thumped the door again, more loudly this time.
“Who are you?” said a voice from a small round window just to their right. “What do you want?”
“My name is Konishi Zenta,” replied the ronin. “My companion and I are seeking employment at the castle.”
There were whispers and the sound of rapid footsteps. Somewhere in the distance another gate was being opened. Matsuzo had the feeling that the people inside were discussing them. It was true that the country had been in a state of civil war for nearly a hundred years, and a troop of strangers approaching the castle would naturally be treated with caution.
But he and Zenta were only two ronin looking for work. There was nothing in their appearances to cause alarm. Matsuzo flattered himself that he still looked like a well-bred young samurai of good family, and Zenta, as always, looked scruffy but utterly harmless. Then why should their arrival be causing so much nervous activity?
Without warning the side door opened quietly, and from the shadow of the door a voice spoke. “Please enter.”
It seemed that they would be asked no further questions. As Matsuzo uneasily followed Zenta through the door, it immediately swung shut behind him with a small thud. The young ronin jumped and looked around quickly. He had just lost his last chance to leave.
The officer who had admitted them and the guards at the gate were all staring at the two arrivals with a strange intensity. Zenta, however, showed no sign of discomfort, but looked calmly about the courtyard until interrupted by the voice of the officer. “Please follow me,” he said curtly to the two ronin.
The outer fortification of the castle consisted of a number of turrets and guard houses, connected by walls or by long, covered corridors. Samurai of lower rank had their quarters in this portion of the castle. The two newcomers and their escort threaded their way through this complex of buildings, making so many turns that Matsuzo soon lost his sense of direction. The mazelike effect was deliberate, for the planners of the castle had made sure that no direct approach to the center was possible.
As they passed, doors and windows slid open, and people leaned out to stare at them. Matsuzo began to find this excessive attention annoying. “One would think that we were badgers in human clothing,” he whispered to Zenta.
The officer turned at Matsuzo’s whispering, and signaled to the escort to press closer.
After a few more turns, they found themselves in front of the inner moat, roughly a concentric circle within the outer moat. The walls of the innermost fortification rose steeply out of the water. Inside these walls were the residences of the castle’s commander and samurai of high rank.
Matsuzo looked down into the stagnant water and wondered if this was the moat mentioned in the legend, where the girl had thrown herself. Was this where the monstrous white serpent rested? Suddenly he gasped and jumped back. He had seen something long and white stirring in the water.
One of the men in the escort laughed, and it was the first light note they had heard since entering the castle grounds. “You probably saw our giant albino carp. That fellow must be at least three feet long, and nobody knows just how old he is.”
“Carp are carnivorous,” remarked Zenta. “This moat would be an ideal place for throwing unwanted things . . . or people.”
The face of the laughing guard darkened, and the party moved silently forward again. Crossing the bridge of the inner moat, they stopped in front of the gate which led to the heart of the castle.
Slowly, the heavy iron studded gate swung open. Waiting for them on the other side was a group of twenty armed men. It was an impressive reception for two penniless ronin.
At the head of the armed men stood a stoutish man of about forty, dressed with a showy richness which caused Matsuzo to wince. The stout man grinned broadly and surveyed the newcomers with satisfaction. “Ah, here you are at last. We have been expecting you.”
Chapter 2
The stout man’s words were heavy with menace, in spite of his smiling