Kondo roused Mori early that morning, and they departed the inn well before sunrise. The bleary-eyed Mori could not understand why they had to leave so urgently, but Kondo appeared to sense that they had overstayed their welcome.

  “We must disappear,” he whispered. “And we must do it now.” Therefore, they departed the inn as soon as possible, leaving no trace that they had ever been there. All that remained was a bag of coins to clear the bill.

  “You gave the innkeeper your name, did you not?” Kondo asked, as they both worked to attach the horse to the cart.

  “I did. At the time, I did not know that I was wanted for regicide.”

  “It can’t be helped,” Kondo replied, working methodically. He was still in quite a deal of pain, and his wounds were healing, but now he had a purpose, and it drove him to push beyond his capabilities.

  “You must rest, my friend,” Mori commanded, seeing his patient fiercely perspiring while he worked to attach the horse’s reins.

  “Once we are off, I’ll rest a bit,” Kondo promised, though his hands never ceased their employment on the tasks required.

  Eventually, they were off, and they left Aoyama just as the light of the sun turned the sky a faint orange. Fortunately, they had not been accosted by any person during their flight, and most importantly, Kondo did not think that they had even been seen at all.

  They were to take the lesser-known paths towards the Old Capital, and they would avoid the Nagamichi Highway at all costs.

  “We would never pass through the checkpoints,” Kondo explained, after forcing himself to take a mid-morning rest. He was back on his feet and was walking steadily next to the doctor and his horse. He held the reins and led the fair beast gently. “Besides, there will be many bounty hunters waiting for you along that road. Only the hardened few would attempt to find you in the wilds. Therefore, we must stay concealed for as long as possible. Eventually, we will have to take a gamble when we reach the Old Capital. The entire region is congested with many towns and villages. There is a heavy presence of the Mashige thereabout.”

  “But surely in the Old Capital, there dwell a great multitude of people,” argued Mori. “And the Mashige have a foothold there as well.”

  “This is true,” Kondo agreed. “But there are ways to stay hidden in the Old Capital. It is still so large that we will be hard to find, if you do as I say. And though the Mashige rule over the Old Capital, they are not beloved, for the Mashige have long tapped the wealth of the Old Capital and brought it north, to their domain. I think there are many in the Old Capital that will not miss your former master. You may even be held in especial esteem there if you are discovered.”

  Mori was still visibly agitated even at the mention of his former liege lord. He mourned the fact that he was dead, and it bothered him terribly that he was blamed for it.

  “Yet we cannot change such things,” Kondo reminded him. “You said that you wanted to go first to the Old Capital and gather some information there. But where will you go after that? Do you have family, and one you can trust to harbor you?”

  Mori shook his bald head. “I have no family. No friends to harbor me now. But I do have a people…”

  “The Truists…” Kondo surmised.

  Mori was taken aback by this. “How did you know?”

  Kondo shrugged his shoulders. “I did not know, but you have the air of one of their kind. Yet you are different.”

  “It is said that there is a gathering of Truists in the Middle Country,” Mori explained. “I will go there if I can, not just to escape capture and death. I have valuable information to give them, news that must reach their ears.”

  Kondo raised an eyebrow. “What news?”

  “It is not permitted for me to say,” Mori answered. “It is the business of the Truists, I am afraid.”

  Kondo pursed his lips as if to object but then decided to leave the matter alone. “Very well. Then our final destination is the Middle Country.”

  “And what will you do once we arrive, Kondo-san?”

  Kondo thought for a moment, and then gazing towards the bright mid-morning sky, he said, “I do not yet know. I have not thought that far ahead.”

  “Would you ever consider joining the Order?” Mori asked, without turning to look at him.

  At this Kondo scoffed. “The Order? I am not much of a religious man, besides…I do not think they would accept a man like me. Not after all I have done.”

  “Why, because you are of the Shin-Shadowhand?”

  Now it was Kondo’s turn to be surprised, but Mori laughed heartily. “How did I know? Well, you have the air of one of their kind, yet you are different.”

  Kondo smiled and then chuckled, and this was a thing he had not done in many long days. It felt like frost melting under a bright spring sun.

  “Perhaps I am different,” he thought. “Perhaps I am.

  Mori and Kondo traveled together for nearly two weeks uninterrupted. They saw no man, woman or beast for that matter, except the occasional fox or mountain deer. They kept to the lesser-known paths, which at times were almost entirely forgotten, but since it was nearing winter, the overgrowth that would have easily hidden them had died away.

  Every day that passed, Kondo seemed to double in strength and endurance. Indeed, he now barely needed to rest upon the cart, and did so at the behest of Mori.

  He thought of many things, but the foremost on his mind was his battle with Gintaro. He realized that the Raijin did not try to destroy him but did everything in his power to save his life. If Kondo had just relented, even slightly, then the battle would not have been so terrible.

  “I brought down the thunder,” Kondo thought sourly. “And for that, I nearly paid for it with my life. “

  The end of the battle drew most of his concentration, for he could not remember it well. He had thought, for a moment, that Gintaro had denied the death of Yukiana, and offered some reason for his belief. But Kondo, for his life, could not remember what it was.

  “Could she be alive?” he wondered, “But even if she is, what could I do? I could not save her now, as I am. If anyone could save her, it would be him,” Kondo believed, seeing Gintaro in his mind’s eye. “His power has no depths. But even he is only one man.”

  Though he was forced to rest by the watchful doctor, Kondo spent most of his time walking beside the man, talking with him freely.

  Mori was very interested in Kondo and asked him many questions about his life, to which he obliged. During their travels, Mori learned much about the swordsman, perhaps more than anyone besides Kondo himself. He learned that he was born into poverty, and his parents had been claimed by the War of Ashes. He learned that he had grown strong, and with the sword led a band of mercenaries that fought the Mashige for hire. He knew that his band was eventually drafted into the service of Yoshimitsu Akira and would have been turned into true samurai, but before this could happen, Akira was killed, and the war was over. He learned of the dark years when Kondo scratched away to make a living in gutters and almost gave in to despair.

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  He learned of his discovery and subsequent calling by the Master of the Shin-Shadowhand. He learned how Kondo rose through the ranks to become the Captain of the Shin-Shadowhand. He learned of some of his great exploits, especially his integral part in the Battle of Shinohara Beach. Finally, he learned of his duel with the Raijin.

  Kondo spoke freely of all things, but in one matter, he held himself back. He did not speak of Yukiana. This was still a wound too deep, too powerful for him to address while his body still bore the scars of his madness. So, for this reason, Mori never heard him utter her name.

  Doctor Mori also spoke of himself, though his focus ever shifted to back to his lord. He reminisced about his time as doctor to the Shōgun. He recalled the extraordinary changes that came over the New Capital over the past several years, and the changes that came over the Shōgun himself.

  “When he was young, he was a very peaceful and free young man,” Mori said, holding back a tear. “He reminds me of you, Kondo-san. Dangerous, yes, but only to those who threaten that which he loves. He had no ambition, and if he did, it was only to see his people prosper.”

  “Then what happened?” Kondo asked.

  Mori frowned. “She happened. He met his father’s mistress, the Lady Ishihara. She got to him before I could dissuade him, and before long, he began to change. It was subtle at first. There were bursts of anger. Then I could sense paranoia in him. He began to devote his mind to growing his power, and he began to forget the way of honor.

  The battle of Akasaka is a good example of this. The old Hideyō would have met his rival on the field of battle, and they would have fought nobly and fairly, and honor would have been given to the victor and the defeated. But this was not the way it was. For Akira was caught completely unawares, and in a precarious situation. Hideyō-sama did not allow his enemy's soldiers to gather into formation but drove into them at their most vulnerable moment. They slaughtered them. Akria never stood a chance. It was an anti-climactic end to the War of Ashes, but it was an end, I suppose.”

  Both men were silent for a few moments before Mori continued. “That is why I must reach my people. The information I have may lead to the downfall of that wretched woman. If the All-Kami wills it, I shall live long enough to see justice done upon her, and then I shall have peace.”

  “You speak of justice, but I sense you want revenge,” said Kondo, perceptibly. “But heed me in this matter. Such a path does not lead to peace.”

  Mori smiled, taking the rebuke thoughtfully and without offense. “And how would someone so young inherit such wisdom?”

  “Because I have walked that path nearly all my life.”

  On the tenth day out of Aoyama, the pair finally encountered another traveler on the road. By this time Kondo’s perception had returned, and he sensed the coming of the traveler from far off. He stood at the side of Mori’s horse, and commanded him to sit atop the cart, with his head bowed and covered by a wide shade hat. He had lifted a change of clothes for Mori on his way out of Aoyama, and though Mori protested that they were stolen goods, he eventually gave in to Kondo’s urging.

  “If anyone sees you in attendant’s garb, they will know right away who you are. Besides, I gave the innkeeper plenty of extra money in hopes that he would stay quiet. A change of clothes might be considered a parting gift for such generosity.”

  The clothes were a little loose, but they fit, and Kondo motioned for the doctor to lower his hat as the traveler came into view.

  Kondo eyed the traveler cautiously. The traveler appeared to be a woman, likely well on in years for she had white hair that fell past her shoulders. She wore a simple grey kimono covered by a dark cloak, and she bore a staff in her right hand. The cloak covered her well, and the black hood seemed to sit large upon her head, so that it concealed much of the woman’s face. This, in and of itself, was an odd presentation, but what was even more unusual was that a hawk sat perched on her left shoulder, and its eyes stared directly into Kondo’s. The swordsman was unsettled by this and could not meet the raptor’s steady gaze.

  Kondo drew the cart to the side of the road, as if to give the traveler plenty of room to pass them by, but the traveler stopped once she was a dozen paces away. His heart began to race, but he did his best to feign serenity. His eyes darted around the road, searching for any signs of an ambush. “Surely this could not be a bounty hunter, could it?” he wondered.

  “May I help you?” he asked.

  “I am looking for one, Doctor Mori,” the figure finally said, and her voice was clear but firm.

  “We do not know this name,” Kondo answered, falsely. “We are but travelers coming out of Aoyama.”

  “You have come further than that,” the figure replied. “You have come from the New Capital, yes, even from the West Bailey of that great fortification.”

  Kondo’s grip on the reins tightened, and his breaths grew quicker and more frantic.

  “Who are you?” he asked, pointedly, letting go of all courtesy.

  “I am one seeking Doctor Mori. That is all you must know.”

  Kondo scowled darkly. “Come now, bounty hunter, enough of this pretense! If you plan to strike do so, but know this, I will make you pay dearly for it!”

  The figure turned her head towards Kondo, and both she and her hawk’s eyes were set upon him, as if piercing into his very soul.

  “You could not even touch us, Kondo Daisuke, not as you are now.”

  At this the swordsman was smitten by wonder, and he staggered back a step. “How do you know me?” he cried, but the traveler’s face had turned towards Doctor Mori.

  She lifted her right hand suddenly. “Mori watch out!” Kondo said, but could do nothing, frozen as he was.

  But instead of an attack, she had thrown back her cloak’s hood, revealing a tranquil face and warm, inviting eyes.

  “Aya-sama?” Mori gasped, and stood and leaned forward, as if to see her better.

  The woman nodded her head slowly. “Yes, it is good to see you after all these years, Mori-sensei.”

  Kondo, confused by this interaction, glanced back and forth at these two elders.

  “What could you be doing here?” Mori asked. “How did you know where to find me?”

  Aya smiled. “I was not looking for you, so to speak, but my friend found you, and I saw that our paths would likely intersect, if I but changed my plans a little. As you might already know, your name is now famous throughout the Islands.” She gazed at Mori for several moments before speaking. “I can tell that you are not at fault for this evil deed. You are just as you were when I last saw you, full of hope.”

  Mori’s face quivered with sadness. “I wish I felt that way. What a wretched end for all my service. I fear that I not only bring dishonor to my name, but to the Truists and the All-Kami himself.”

  “Do not despair,” Aya said. “You served the Shōgun well, as best you could and for many long years. And though we have suffered much, if not for you, it would have been much worse, I deem. The All-Kami knows all and sees through the falsehoods of men. Stand firm, and you shall one day be exalted.”

  “Thank you, my lady,” Mori answered.

  This was too much for Kondo, and he stepped forward once again. “My lady?” he repeated. “Who is this woman, that you speak to her so reverently?”

  Mori shot Kondo a rare wrathful look. “Be quiet! You do not understand what you are saying. This is Aya, the Truist Sage.”

  Aya looked at Kondo peaceably and bowed. “I am indeed Aya, but I no longer hold the title of Sage.”

  At this Mori’s mouth gaped open. “Then, it is time?”

  Aya nodded.

  “My lady…Aya-sama, I have something urgent that I must tell you,” Mori said, his voice rushed with excitement.

  “But of course,” she said with a smile, glancing over at her hawk.

  Mori looked over at Kondo once again. “I am sorry, but if you do not mind, I must speak with her…alone.”

  Kondo inspected the woman one last time. It appeared as if the two were long acquaintances, but still, there was something about her that unsettled him to the core. “Are you sure?” he asked.

  Mori nodded firmly, and this was enough for the swordsman. He strode off to the side of the wood and searched for twigs and branches for which to make a fire with at the end of the day. Meanwhile, the two Truists seemed to be locked in an intense debate.

  Sensing that this would take some time, Kondo disappeared into the woods again, and when he returned it appeared that the two had finally finished their conference.

  Mori motioned for Kondo to join them, and so he did.

  “I believe I will be heading north then. I have a feeling that I will meet them there,” Aya said, finishing her trail of thought before turning towards Kondo.

  Before he could speak however, she said, “You are probably wondering how I know you,” she asked.

  Kondo nodded and awaited the answer.

  Aya smiled wryly. “It was my duty to protect the Truist Order from their enemies. As you probably spent many hours studying the history and nature of your enemies, so too have I researched mine. I understood you to be the Captain of the Shin-Shadowhand, heir to ring of the Mukade. I asked my friend here to seek you out, once upon a time. I can see what he sees, and I do not forget a face.”

  “You were right,” Kondo said, impressed by this woman’s wisdom and perception.

  “But what are you now, Kondo Daisuke?” she asked. “For I can tell you are different. Your eyes have changed. They no longer look outward but seek inward.”

  “I am afraid that I do not know,” he answered honestly.

  “That is well,” she said. “For when we free ourselves from knowing, we begin to understand.” She then turned back to face Mori. “I know my path but let me help you with yours. You must pass through the Old Capital, no? Many will be looking for you there. If you run into trouble, seek out Kaya of the Seven Sparrows Okiya. She will be very interested in your tale, especially your part,” she said, looking toward Kondo. “Use that information to buy yourself safety and safe passage, if it comes to it.”

  Both Mori and Kondo bowed as a sign of appreciation.

  “May you get to the Truist congregation safely and relay all you have told me. I am depending on you, Mori-san.” Then she said, “Please, protect him, Kondo-san, and you will have my trust. May the All-Kami guide you both.”

  With that, the former Truist Sage departed from them, heading in the opposite direction. Mori and Kondo watched her, until she faded from view along the path. Then, quietly, and contemplatively, they continued on, with the valley of the Old Capital ahead of them.