Dororo: A Novel
Tsuji Masaki
Part Four
The Tale of Nihil, the Demon Sword
Chapter 4
The next morning, Hyakkimaru made his way over a steep mountain pass at dawn. He’d followed Mio’s directions and was now in the next province over. That was where the samurai Hirukawa Tanosuke was rumored to be last. Hyakkimaru wasn’t looking for the man, but for his sword, which was possessed by a vengeful spirit that had become a demon.
Maybe this demon has my eye, Hyakkimaru thought as he walked. Maybe this one…
Hyakkimaru wanted to see Mio more than anything. That hope made him hurry on his way. Dororo was nowhere to be seen. Hyakkimaru had asked if Dororo wanted to come before leaving, but Dororo had simply laughed at him.
“Hehehehe. You’re coming right back, yeah? I’ll wait for you here. It’s cozy.”
“And what if I don’t come back?” Hyakkimaru had asked.
“You will. Miss Mio’s here. The only reason you wouldn’t come back is if you were dead.” Dororo folded his arms, then looked up at Hyakkimaru with an expression of triumph. “I’m right, aren’t I?”
Both Hyakkimaru and Mio blushed. Hyakkimaru could sense Mio’s discomfort. He turned on his heel, then called out behind him, “I’ll be back soon.” He drew the sword at his hip and was off.
Hyakkimaru almost never used the sword he carried at his hip, preferring his sword arms for battle. Dororo wasn’t after that sword, either. There was nothing very special about it—it couldn’t kill demons—but it was a deterrent to some of the more unsavory travelers on the road.
As he traveled, Hyakkimaru considered the nature of his enemy. Mio wasn’t the only one who’d encountered Hirukawa Tanosuke and his demon sword. Some of the children at the temple had survived being attacked and told him what they could remember.
“It was… it’s hard to describe. He attacked at night, and the sword lit up with strange red light with every stroke. And when the sword slashed, there was a sound like the tolling of a bell far away. A heavy sound,” one girl had said. “The man who carried it kept calling for blood. Just… blood.”
“I heard a story about Hirukawa Tanosuke,” a little boy had said. “They say his lord gave him that sword. Do you know why? He started off as a farmer, but he was promoted because he was so good with a sword. But he had to prove himself against the other samurai. Tanosuke didn’t have a high-quality sword, so his lord gave him his.”
“That’s not the story!” another little boy had cut in. “Not all of it, anyway. I heard that Tanosuke’s lord called him and set him a task: to kill six people from his home village. Tanosuke couldn’t do it. He refused.”
“That’s right,” the first boy had agreed. “Killing unarmed farmers when he was a warrior would have been dishonorable.”
“His lord ordered him to. He had no choice. That’s when the lord gave Tanosuke his own sword. And when Tanosuke received it, he… changed. His eyes changed color. He shouted at the farmers to run, but it was too late. He killed them all.”
“And when he was done with them, he turned the blade on his lord. Every slice made that terrible hollow sound—grief for the six that he’d killed, maybe. He was covered in blood. His clothes were soaked in it. At first, Tanosuke’s lord was pleased that he’d obeyed orders, but that didn’t last very long.”
Shortly after that, the war had broken out. That was fortunate for Tanosuke in a lot of ways, since every lord could use a good swordsman during wartime. But Tanosuke couldn’t control the blade’s bloodlust; it would as soon strike down a farmer or a child than an enemy soldier. To the cursed sword, there was no distinction between warriors and children, merchants and the aged. Blood was blood.
Tanosuke’s new lord didn’t care. He distinguished himself so much in battle that be eventually became a samurai general. Wherever he went, he left a trail of blood and devastation. He carried hell with him, and those who got in his way were sent there forthwith.
The people that Tanosuke targeted with his sword fled before him in fear. No one had ever hunted him before, until now.
Hyakkimaru was on Tanosuke’s trail.
After a bit more travel, Hyakkimaru arrived at a village. He saw a few dozen soldiers mustering there and felt their murderous intent. Hyakkimaru had no real interest in war or fighting himself, except as it related to his own self-preservation.
Some of the soldiers didn’t have the stink of blood on them, and Hyakkimaru couldn’t tell if they’d killed before or not. These were probably spies, not warriors. Hyakkimaru turned off the main road to avoid the army in the village.
In times of war, the people who profited the most were arms dealers: makers of armor and weapons. They were brazen about their role, moving from place to place accompanied by the loud and steady rhythm of war drums. However, they weren’t usually combatants. It didn’t take Hyakkimaru long to find an arms dealer in the village who was willing to answer a few questions.
“I’m looking for a samurai named Hirukawa Tanosuke,” Hyakkimaru said. “Have you heard of him?”
The arms dealer gave Hyakkimaru a flat look. He wasn’t about to offer up what information he had for free.
“Did you hear me?” Hyakkimaru asked patiently. “Hirukawa Tanosuke.”
“I’m not about to tell you anything,” the arms dealer said. “He’s been a godsend for this village. Keeps the riffraff out. Why should I help you find him?”
Tanosuke ‘kept the riffraff out’ by killing people, but apparently that was a good thing from the perspective of the arms dealer. Hyakkimaru was briefly perplexed.
“I understand,” Hyakkimaru said. “I seek an audience with Lord Hirukawa Tanosuke. Where might he be?” Maybe showing some respect to the bloodthirsty samurai would get him more information.
“Where, you ask?” The arms dealer snorted. It was an unpleasant sound. “This is where he lives, you fool.”
“Here?” Hyakkimaru asked. “Where?”
The arms dealer glared at him in contempt. “If you must know, he just left. At the head of our army. They’ll be back before long.”
Hyakkimaru was stunned. Did this arms dealer and the men he’d seen mustering up in the village work for Tanosuke? He had his own army?
“Where are they going?” Hyakkimaru asked.
“Mizushima.”
Hyakkimaru gulped. Mio and the children were at the ruined temple that was right on the border between Mizushima and this province. They were in danger. Unfortunately, there was a long straight road that led right to the temple from here. Nothing would slow Tanosuke and his army down.
“Shit,” Hyakkimaru breathed. His face went white. He found the road that Tanosuke and his army had used and broke into a run.
“Oi!” the arms dealer called out after him. “What’s the hurry, huh?”
When Hyakkimaru didn’t reply, the arms dealer followed him.
“Hey! Are you from Mizushima or something?”
“Leave me alone!” Hyakkimaru yelled, running faster.
“Spy in the village!” The arms dealer’s voice was shrill and far too loud. “A spy from Mizushima is escaping! Stop him!”
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