Chapter 11

The temperature inside Lord Sato Okinaga’s dungeon had dropped to below freezing. Miyamoto Musashi tried to remain as calm as possible as seven samurai who had previously been slaughtered by Itto Isamu slowly advanced on him.
The first dead samurai approached Musashi, his arms outstretched. Somehow it still had all its limbs and even its head. Its expression was inhuman, its eyes were bloodshot and saliva drooled from its mouth. Musashi sidestepped, avoiding its grasp, pushing it into the iron bars of Isamu’s prison cell. Another unsheathed its short sword and sliced wildly at Musashi. It missed by mere inches.
If the dead samurai had attacked with its Katana it would have been a direct hit.
Suddenly Musashi realised the samurai would have dropped their Katanas earlier. He quickly scanned the ground for the nearest sword. But all he found was shuffling feet.
The dead samurai with the short sword attacked again, this time in a stabbing motion. Musashi reacted instantaneously grabbing its forearm and snapping its wrist back into a totally unnatural position. Normally this would cause the person so much pain they would drop the sword immediately but the dead samurai did not let go, it didn’t even flinch.
Confused and more than worried he gripped the hilt of the short sword and planted a thrust kick square on the chest of the dead samurai. Musashi yanked the sword free as the samurai was sent flying into the far wall from the force of the kick. Using the short sword, Musashi decapitated the nearest samurai and punctured the neck of the next closest.
His movements were fast and effortless.
He slid the sword out of the samurai’s neck and waited for it to fall to the ground. But again the dead samurai did not react; it didn’t even flinch.
Musashi dropped the sword and began to panic.

On the other side of the iron gate Lord Sato paced back and forth like a caged animal. He had tried with all his might to open the gate but it would not budge. There was no way he could reach Musashi.
“Isamu! What are you doing?” Lord Sato shouted.
The Kensai Master did not answer. He was kneeling in his prison cell in deep meditation, his hand outstretched as though he was controlling the dead samurai, the dead samurai who used to be Lord Sato’s best men. Isamu had sliced them to bits when he had arrived here earlier. Lord Sato had never seen anything so scary as a completely out of control Kensai Master. He knew it didn’t matter how many of his men he had thrown at Isamu, he would have disposed of them all. Luckily Isamu seemed to be hell bent on getting down into this dungeon. Okinaga couldn’t figure out why. Was it for their protection or was their another reason?
Okinaga unsheathed his katana and sliced at the iron bars of the gate. Sparks flew but the sword barely made a scratch. He then attempted to cut the hinges of the gate, but again nothing happened. He was running out of time.
“Musashi, take my sword,” Okinaga offered as he slid the katana through the gate.
Musashi shook his head as he kept a close watch on the dead samurai slowly shuffling forward. “I don’t think a sword is going to stop them.”
Okinaga swore. He needed to get Musashi out of there. Itto Isamu had lost his mind,
“Musashi, you have to get out of there!”
“I don’t think that’s an option right now.”
Okinaga looked around frantically for anything that could unlock the gate. He found nothing. There were no keys, no tools, absolutely nothing, only whips and chains and other instruments of torture. He looked down the corridor at the stairs. He had sent Akira for reinforcements but the servant had not returned. What was taking him so long?
Lord Sato reached through the gate and placed a reassuring hand on Musashi’s shoulder. “I am going to get help. I will open this gate.”
Okinaga ran down the corridor and suddenly realised there was no light coming from the top of the stairs. When he reached the top he saw that the trapdoor had been closed. When he tried to push it open, it did not move. Lord Sato Okinaga was a prisoner in his own dungeon.