Honor

Jay Horne
Jay Horne
Mar 4 · 32 min read
Honor
Honor
Image by the Author | Copyright Bookflurry Inc. 2021

Preface

When the steel song of clashing death roars, it is only a matter of time before fear finds the samurai.

honor still in tact.

Chapter One

Ima Yoshimoto had marched his huge army straight into Kyoto during 1560, overwhelming our border castles twelve to one. But, during their celebration and under the cover of darkness, we ninjas came.

The only solace during combat is that the drawn sword takes up your soul.
Bravery? Perhaps disassociation.

Yoshi delivers a kick, and Naga rolls away.

Now I act.

It happens in slow motion. The fear brings everything down to a crawl.
Soaring over the tent, I’ve become the blade. Slashing down on his blind side, if I’d rent flesh I’d feel nothing. But impossibly, he parries. I feel the sting of metal hitting metal. When his eyes flit back, I can see something in them.
A hesitation? No. A recognition.

Chapter Two

Everything’s serene. The morning is a reminder of the first I’d spent in Oda Province.
When I was about Imario’s age, I’d awoken, bathed and warm on the floor of a similar room. A practicing samurai had slid the paper door aside and stood portrait, refusing to look at me while he delivered instruction. It had been early April then, and it was early April now.

Chapter Three

Was that Imario? Or was it me?

Chapter Three

Out in the ether of energy, where the soul lacks a physical vessel, the consciousness desires only one thing. Like a bird with tiring wings; it wants only a place to light.

CHAPTER FOUR

Naga was present.
He’d delivered the concubine. I guess today was a do over for him, too.
He stood first in line next to the spire, opposite of Itutsumaro, another one of the Shogan’s generals.

CHAPTER FIVE

I’m a moth in search of a light.

Chapter SIX

I relish the cool air.

CHAPTER SEVEN

It was in the early hours before dawn that I brought my urgent news up the palace steps and was halted by the guard.
The rice bag was taken from me and I was escorted into the hot spring chambers below Oda’s personal abode.
There was several servant women there that helped me disrobe and wash my hair and body.

Chapter EIGHT

I wrestled with doubt through the night.
Patience wasn’t one of Oda’s attributes. It was doubtful that the General would suggest I had anything to do with Ittusumaru’s death. At least without hard evidence. But, Naga would be out for blood.

Goyaku had watched as Iryu wretched outside of his home and knew beyond doubt that Naga was right; Iryu had betrayed them on the southern pass.

Carefully, Goyaku removed the bundle of thread from his pouch and felt out with his big toe to ensure the stability of the rafter here above were Iryu slept.
With his thumb he pressed a tiny phial up from within his belt and held it overhead, gauging the room he had in the crawlspace there to execute his plan.

Bookflurry

A snowstorm of fresh short stories, free audio books, and tactful articles.

Jay Horne

Written by

Jay Horne

Jay Horne is an author and publisher out of Bradenton, Florida. He is a husband and father of four. Read his stuff FREE at Bookflurry.com

Bookflurry

A snowstorm of fresh short stories, free audio books, and tactful articles. Catch one on your tongue or charge through with a plow. Just don’t eat the yellow snow!

Jay Horne

Written by

Jay Horne

Jay Horne is an author and publisher out of Bradenton, Florida. He is a husband and father of four. Read his stuff FREE at Bookflurry.com

Bookflurry

A snowstorm of fresh short stories, free audio books, and tactful articles. Catch one on your tongue or charge through with a plow. Just don’t eat the yellow snow!

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