Chapter 6: The master visits

A visit from the sensei

“Good morning revered teacher” the magistrate bowed low to the older man, fighting the urge to wince as the wound across his belly pulled with the motion.

“I have come to ask about my student, he is under your care Yomine-san.” The man of fifty years looked to the younger man with an emotionless expression. He was flanked by two younger students in their teens who shifted anxiously upon the wooden floor behind their master.

“Of course, your worry for his condition was well founded. But though he was gravely wounded he is recovering in my home. He was set upon by a skilled swordsman, and though he did triumph, it was only by a narrow margin.” Watching the old swordsman just stare forward, he found his eyes moving to the constant motion of his students but tried to respectfully keep his gaze upon the master.

“He did survive, and the ronin was slain yes. However, the student who lays injured is the son of the Taeshimo daimyo.” His expression hardened, and his voice grew louder as his hands curled into fists, his body shaking with his words, “he should have not been the one to avenge a student's death, why did you not sequester him within your manor?” The two students behind him grew still, letting their gazes fall to the floor.

Katsukane Yomine, the magistrate of Sanada, just sighed softly holding up a hand. “Apologies master, but I did not see him. I had taken ill and was unable to directly see your student, he was attended to by one of my vassals who did not direct him to find Hinada Ayomi or bid him stay. Your student acted of his own accord.”

The old man's eyes stared coldly at the magistrate, but he did not bark any more harsh words. He reached to his left and collected his katana, carefully adjusting the silk cords of its scabbard. “I will see my student then, Yomine-san.” He carefully tied the silk cords around his sash while his students carefully began to collect their own blades.

“As you wish Homashi-sama, but there is more we must speak of.” the magistrate said, giving another polite bow. “But let my servant guide you to your student.” He held a hand towards a doorway to the left of him, from within a balding servant was kneeling upon the floor waiting to guide the visitors to their wounded compatriot.