Death's Sword Book 1: Finding and Seeking

Chapter 2: Day 1

The daiymo turned on his brother in fury, "You are a fool, Chaiduko, a hot-tempered fool. No insult, real or imagined, was worth this. Once a fool for being so rash and doubly a fool not to know yourself foolish. You will go to Haikohama in person and apologise to Saituseka. You will return his son's katana and his nephew's head." The daiymo reached one wall, span on his heel and strode back across the room. His feet rapped hard against the wooden flooring as he went. 

Cheika Chaiduko counted the steps as he kept his forehead pressed to the floor. Eight, nine, ten, turn. Bad, very bad. The length of Cheika Tsaiduko's stride grew with his anger. A ten-pace rage was bad indeed; even the incident with the baker's daughter had only been an eleven-pace anger. 

Chaiduko clenched his calf muscles and unclenched them slowly. He was going to get cramp if his brother carried on like this. It was far more than those Haiko brats deserved, he had been quick with his sword and they had hardly suffered. He gave a small sigh and shifted his knees slightly against the smooth wooden floor. The daiymo was still talking, "...and your best jade chai-pot for the widow. In addition, you will hand over your youngest son to join their clan, and promise your third eldest daughter in marriage - the promise can be broken later, don't worry about that, I will manage her fiance's family. Then..." 

 Tsaiduko's pacing and instructions reeled on. Chaiduko no longer listened. It was just like his brother to be so small minded and quick to think the worst of Chaiduko, rather than seeing the potential for a bigger plan for their family's fortunes. He smiled inwardly, thinking of the times as children his brother had beaten other children for whispering slights against him and his skill with a training sword. If anyone was a fool in the room, it was Tsaiduko with his short fuse and lack of ambition. If only he knew what Chaiduko had planned, he would be the one bowing on his knees and begging to be a part of it all. 

In one corner of the cold, severe room was a bamboo screen painted with hundreds of tiny martial figures. It depicted scenes from the battle of Hitan, a clash between the samurai and ashigaru of the clan Cheika and the vicious hordes of native tuigrahan. It was that battle that had first brought the Cheika to prominence in the land of Hywhen. Chaiduko fixed his thoughts on battles, fighting, the arts of war. War had lifted the Cheika to their present plateau. War would cause them to rise still further. 

 Cheika Chaiduko plotted, knowing that his secretary was behind the bamboo screen, taking notes. Safely in a different room, where he could not see his master lose face in this manner. Honour would oblige Chaiduko to kill any servant who witnessed his disgrace. But in another room, behind a bamboo partition: that was acceptable. A list of conditions and actions was made, that was the thing. Not that it mattered. He, Chaiduko, would be daiymo before he had to carry out his brothers' instructions. The Haiko clan would really have to watch themselves then, the arrogant little toads!

Grand Inquisitor of the Right Herodoshi Susoo, third highest official of the Imperial Inquisition, paced her chambers, deep in thought. A slender, narrow-faced woman of a little more than average height, long dark hair pulled into a severe bun at the nape of her neck, a streak of red on each side, with dark, fiercely intelligent eyes. Young, too, very young for so senior a rank. She considered her orders – to proceed to Cheikatoma and begin inquiry into several stories from that region which had recently reached the ears of the Inquisition. She hoped that these would not be another wild goose chase, another mockery of her years of training, another failure that would strengthen the claims of those who said the Inquisition was no longer needed. The signs were encouraging; strange moving lights seen at night, people being afflicted with nightmares, whispering in the darkness. Yet stronger claims had been investigated in the past and had come to naught. Still, it was the most promising case for years.