Chapter 13

Miyamoto Musashi had his back pressed against the heavy iron gate that closed off the corridor of the dungeon. The seven dead samurai had him surrounded like a pack of wild dogs would the moment before they attacked their prey. Musashi was out of ideas. He looked over at Itto Isamu and pleaded for his help.
“Isamu, I’ll do whatever you ask of me. I’ll return to the Kensai order, I’ll devote my life to them. Just stop what you’re doing and call off these demons!”
The old Kensai master was grimacing in pain and despite the freezing cold temperature of the dungeon, beads of sweat formed on his forehead. “Like I said before,” he strained. “This is your final test. But rest assured this is not a game. If you fail, you will die, as will thousands of innocent people.”
“Why? Why should I be responsible for innocent lives? I did not choose this, you cannot force it on me!” The tone of voice surprised him. Never in a million years should he talk to the Kensai master like this. But considering the circumstances, and the weight of what Isamu was saying, Musashi couldn’t help it.
Isamu remained perfectly still and his eyes were closed. Only his lips moved. “Why you? I cannot say. It would seem destiny has a plan.”
“Destiny? Stop talking nonsense. Don’t tell me you meditated on it, I don’t want to hear it. It’s all horse shit!”
Isamu’s hand steadied and in turn the dead samurai seemed to halt their advance. “One day you will see what I see. It will torment your dreams and haunt your days. But you will learn to burden this great responsibility. To perceive, to sharpen your sight and your minds eye you must let go. You must empty your cup. A cup is made from clay or wood. Tangible things. But it is the emptiness of the cup that we desire. You must empty your cup, Musashi, then you will see."
Musashi shook his head; he did not believe the master’s words. “ Oh yeah? What will I see?”
“You will see things no one else can. You will see into the very hearts of men, their fears, their ambitions. Eventually you will be able to see through time. Your mind will be your greatest weapon, sharper than any sword, more devastating than any army.”
“Well, if your mind is such a great weapon, how did Goda defeat you? Why didn’t you know he was coming for you?”
Isamu took a deep breath; the dead samurai remained still. “Do not underestimate Goda.”
Musashi did not understand. Why did men fear The Red Ninja so much? Wasn’t he just a spy, an assassin for hire?
“You must be careful, Miyamoto. He is no longer a man,” Isamu warned. “He has become something else. I knew this the moment I looked into his eyes. He has changed.”
“What do you mean? How has he changed? Changed from what?”
For a long while, Isamu said nothing. The sound of his breathing seemed to get louder, deeper. Finally he spoke.
“ There is no denying it, Musashi. You cannot change your destiny,” he said ignoring Musashi’s question. “You will be the saviour of the Kensai. You will stop the Clan. I have foreseen it.”
Musashi lowered his head. “I’m not ready. I’m not the man you think I am. I can’t stop the Clan. How do I fight an enemy that has no honour? They strike from the shadows; they kill men in their sleep, they sneak up on them when their backs are turned. How do I fight an enemy like that?”
“Always lure your enemy with something to gain.”
“What… what can I lure them with? What do they want? You said before Goda was in search of absolute power. Just what exactly is absolute power?”
“The Clan or any opponent for that matter will fight and die for wealth, land, power. The Clan are in search of the Sword of Souls. The sword will deliver what they desire. They will come out from the darkness to seize it. There, you will make your stand.”
It all started to make sense. The Clan had only revealed themselves to the world for one reason. They were after the legendary Sword of Souls. But wasn’t it just that, Musashi thought? Wasn’t it just a legend, a story about a sword with special powers? Musashi had heard the story a hundred times as a child. The sword could only be wielded by a true master, the power of the sword increasing the more lives it ended and the more souls it collected.
“The sword is real,” Isamu said, once again appearing to have read Musashi’s mind.
“How do you do that? How can you hear my thoughts?”
“Empty your cup, Musashi. Then you will see.”
Musashi realised he still had so much to learn from Isamu. His feeble skills were no match for the power possessed by the Kensai Master. He found himself wanting to learn more, to master all of his capabilities. He wanted to see what Isamu could see.
“How long have the Clan waited for this moment?”
“It is difficult to say. They conceal themselves extremely well.”
“Where is Goda now?”
Isamu took several deep breaths, as if mustering the strength to talk. “He is close. I can feel it.”