"Uesugi Ieyasu, you are no longer samurai. If you remove your swords now, I will forget that you attempeted to enter our town in such a manner." The guard had his hand on his hilt, prepared to draw. Two other samurai stood behind him on either side in similar fashion. Apparently, they did not expect Uesugi to disarm, or entertained hopes that he might not. They were right.
"Sir, I do not know what they call you, but apparently you know who you are speaking to. I respect your position and loyalty to your Lord, yet I will lay down my daisho for no man." Uesugi made no move for his weapon. A true samurai, he always chose diplomacy first, kenjutsu as a last resort.
"You ignore bushido?" one of the backup samurai asked, outraged.
"Lay down your swords!" The guard in front demanded, "Your Lord is dead and dishonored, sir, and still you carry your daisho in public? You bring further shame upon your Daimyo. You are a disgrace to your clan, your house, and your very namesake."
"I honor bushido," Uesugi returned, "your Lord lies. He has taken the life of my Lord dishonorably. I witnessed this with my own eyes, and now I come for revenge." The three guards shared a look of surprise, they honestly did not expect this man to stand against the three of them. "Now, the time has passed for talking." Uesugi warned, "It is time for you to draw your katana or stand down and let me pass. There will be no other way." The soft click of the lead guard's hilt disengaging from it's sheath gave him his answer. Once a samurai's blade has been drawn, it cannot be sheathed until it has tasted the blood of his enemy. This man had said Uesugi brought shame upon his home. Uesugi's grip tightened on his katana, he had no home to shame.
After he had survived the asassination of his Lord, Uesugi returned home. He had been badly wounded, but the bleeding seemed to have stopped. When he reached his home, his wife Uriko took him in and tended to his wounds, cleaning the area and applying the herbs her mother had taught her to use in such a situation. She was nervous, Uesugi had been in so many battles and never once returned home with wounds. She gave him some tea and let him sleep. The next day, Uesugi instructed her to bandage his wounds tightly so that he may leave. Uriko begged him not to go so soon, demanding to know what had happened. Why must he set off immediately when he was still wounded and would not even wait for his wounds to heal? Uesugi finally agreed to tell her what had happened while she applied his bandages. When Uriko was done and Uesugi had told his tale, she asked him what he planned to do now that his Daimyo was dead. Uesugi had told her the truth. His Lord's dishonor was a lie, and he planned to seek revenge immediately. Uriko began to cry and left the room. When Uesugi was dressed he reached for his daisho and noticed that his tanto was missing. He picked up his katana and wakizashi and rushed into the next room to find Uriko kneeling on the floor crying near their infant son. Uesugi approached her slowly, only to have her scream at him to stop, not to come any closer. She held his tanto in her hand. Uesugi looked at his son lying near Uriko. He studied closely watching for the slightest stir, the rise and fall of his chest in a deep breath, a twitch, the movement of his closed eyes as in dreaming. Uesugi saw none of these things, and instead noticed a paling of the skin, and an all-too-stillness in his face. Uriko begged him not to go, told him no one would believe his story. His lord was dead, he was dishonored, no longer a samurai. She had said she could not live with the disgrace if he were ronin. He turned his back to her when she used his tonto on herself and he left her there. He would not need the ceremonial weapon. He would regain the honor of his Lord, and thereby his own, or he would die in the attempt.
Remembering this as he faced the three guards, Uesugi's rage blossomed. He became the man he was in the field of combat, fighting for his Lord. As soon as he heard the sound of the guards drawing their swords he sprung into action. The lead guard had not quite finished drawing his katana as Uesugi slid his own effortlessly from it's sheath. He sidestepped to the right, directly in front of the samurai's blade hand and kicked him square in his chest, sending him back at an angle into the drawn sword of the samurai standing to his rear right. The blade pierced him through the flesh of his armpit. Not a lethal wound but certainly quite painful. This made it a matter of ease for Uesugi to deflect the man's meager strike with a right spin and backstrike through both men at once with his katana. He was now facing the remaining samurai, who had stood to the rear and left of the main guard. The samurai had already drawn his sword and was now cautiously advancing on him, sensing what he percieved to be an opening while Uesugi's katana was still embedded in the other two guards. Uesugi released his katana and drew his wakizashi, easily ducking the samurai's clumsy strike. He stepped under the samurai's extended arms and executed a flawless left spin. The inexperienced samurai took a few steps back, staggering as if drunk. For a moment he seemed unharmed, but Uesugi knew better. Within moments the man's neck opened wide. He dropped his sword and grasped his neck with both hands before falling to the ground face first and pooling sticky crimson. Uesugi shifted his wakizashi to his left hand and took one swift step over the body, withdrawing his katana from the two men with his right hand. They had remained standing until now, leaning against each other and pinned together in two places. Without the extra support of Uesugi's katana the two samurai crumpled to the ground in opposite directions. Uesugi wiped both blades on the robe of what had been the central guard before sheathing them and strolling through the city gates.
To Be Continued...
