The Sword That Cut the Burning Grass by Dorothy Hoobler Read Free Book Online Page A

confirm—”
    “Where is this man now?” snapped Yabuta.
    “I don’t know, but he was dressed in a blue kimono, and he left two swords with the guard at the temple porch.” Seikei hesitated. “At least I think they were his.”
    Yabuta curled his lip. “That’s hardly a precise description. No one else reported seeing this other samurai. Perhaps you imagined him.”
    Seikei wanted to protest, but he saw that was useless. He bowed his head. “Then how may I help find the emperor?” he asked humbly.
    “Find the emperor?” Yabuta didn’t try to suppress the gloating in his voice. “I don’t believe I need any more of your help. ” He licked his lips, and asked, “Are you familiar with the saying, ‘A samurai has two swords. When the long one fails, the short one must succeed’?”
    “Yes,” Seikei said after a pause. He knew what Yabuta meant.
    “The guards will take you back to your room,” said Yabuta. “I suggest you consider what the effect would be if your disgrace is made public. Your foster father, Judge Ooka, will be humiliated as well. You—and only you—could spare him that.”
    Seikei understood the meaning behind that as well. Numbly, he followed the guards, wondering how he could have made so many mistakes. The judge had even warned him about Yabuta, which made Seikei’s failure all the harder to bear.
    At the governor’s residence, the guards took Seikei’s horse and left him at the guesthouse. They let him keep his swords, of course. Yabuta intended him to use them, or at least one of them.
    That was the meaning of the saying Yabuta had referred to. If a samurai failed to overcome his enemy with the long sword that he carried, then it was his duty to use the short one—on himself.
    Seikei had always believed that he would, if necessary, preserve his honor in this manner. He had never seen a samurai actually commit seppuku, although he did witness the actor Tomomi kneel and bare his neck for the sword. Tomomi had been strong-willed and entirely willing to die, for he had accomplished his goal. He did not hesitate to accept death as the price of honor.
    But Seikei had heard stories of other samurai who, when called on to end their own lives, could not bring themselves to do it. Some asked a faithful retainer to cut off their heads. Others tried to stab themselves, but did such a poor job that they lay in agony, waiting to bleed to death.
    Seikei withdrew his short sword from its scabbard and looked at it. It was a fine sword, given to him as a present by the governor of Yamato Province because Seikei had defeated the ninja named Kitsune. The governor had, in turn, won the pair of swords long ago from Seikei’s father Judge Ooka.
    Tears came to Seikei’s eyes as he thought of the man he respected more than any other. What would the judge feel when he learned that Seikei had disgraced himself? Would he approve of Seikei’s decision to commit seppuku? Would seppuku prove that Seikei’s only desire was to honor his foster father?
    A memory floated into Seikei’s mind like a blackbird flying across a gray sky before a storm. He had often discussed with the judge the duties of a samurai. On one occasion, Seikei had been reading one of the many books devoted to the subject. “Those books have fine thoughts in them,” the judge had said. “But a man knows best of all, in his heart, what his duty is and whether he has fulfilled it or not.”
    Seikei turned the sword over in his hand, looking at its gleaming edge, which was sharp enough to cut a falling leaf in two. He thought about what the judge had said.
    There was still another way.

8
    DRIVING A HARD BARGAIN
    S eikei used his short sword to cut his hair so that he would no longer be recognized as a samurai. Then he made a hachimaki headband, inscribed it with the word honor, and tied it around his forehead. By doing so, he signaled that he had pledged to wear it until he had accomplished his task.
    No one noticed him as he slipped