The Greatest Samurai that Ever Lived (the haunted years)
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The night was dark and the house was silent. It was so silent that if a mouse had scratched in a corner, it would have been heard by all. Suddenly, a low moaning sound slowly rose and fell, then silence, then more moaning, rising like a wind warning of storms to come.
"Master Takeda!" The servant dashed through the house, searching for where his master slept, for Sokaku Takeda always slept in a different place every night, and he changed his location often. It was the only way, the old samurai claimed, that he could be safe from his enemies.
"OOOO!" The moan was now a full throated shout, and the members of the household could be heard moving about, muttering nervously at the sound of the Master's nightly dreams. At last, the servant located where Sokaku had unrolled his bedding--in a cupboard under a stairway.
"Master!" The servant cried, afraid to approach and knock on the cupboard door, for Sokaku slept with a dagger and an iron fan, and in the throws of a nightmare he could easily cut down his faithful servant. The servant reached into a canister and withdrew an umbrella.
Gingerly, he reached forward and tapped on the door. The doors burst open, and before the servant could even see Sokaku, the old man had thrown him on the floor. He held a sharp dagger to the servant's throat.
"What's this? You thought I wouldn't see you? I killed you once before, you know, and I can...what's this?"
Another servant suddenly made an appearance with a lantern, and the sudden onslaught of light made Sokaku close his eyes to slits. He was bleary-eyed, disheveled and pale. A drop of blood fell from the first servant's throat, and the arm of the servant, where Sokaku had gripped him, felt like it was about to break.
"Master Takeda?" The first servant begged. Sokaku looked at the man in his grip, then he began to understand what he was really doing.
Bone weary, but still filled with power, he drew his bedding out of the cupboard. He left the room, then, and began searching for another place to sleep. If only he could sleep a few hours undisturbed, but always...always...the souls of those he had slain found him.
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