I gestured for Takumi to approach. "Sit down."
He obeyed with a slight reluctance.
"Now, Takumi," I said gravely. "You must tell me everything you know, if you want to keep my trust. This question is really important to me. Did my father possess the Sword of Futsunushi?"
Suddenly, the chamberlain leaned forward, his forehead touching the mat. "I beg of you, master, lower your voice," he whispered.
"Alright," I relented.
"The sword has been the source of so many calamities that I dare not speak of it aloud."
I never thought I'd see Takumi afraid of anything, and even though I couldn't see his face, I could tell that he was at that moment very afraid.
"Alright," I repeated.
If the topic made such an impression on the intrepid Takumi, I could only imagine how it affected weaker souls.
He straightened his back and shifted closer. "I swear to you, your lordship, I do not know for a fact whether your father possessed the sword," he whispered. "But if you want me to speak my mind, I'll tell you that I believe he did. I don't know when it took place and what precisely happened, but his secrecy and reverence for it lead me to believe that something terrible occurred, and that he was part of it."
We gazed at each other for a while.
I didn't know what to make of it all. Not only did my father have secrets, but it also seemed he might have played a part in one of the era's greatest mysteries.
"What exactly did my father say about the sword?" I finally asked.
Takumi shook his head. "Not a lot. I only remember him uttering once that people should be thankful that the sword was never restored to the daimyo of Shinano."
My jaw dropped. "The daimyo of Shinano?"
Takumi nodded gravely. "According to the legend, the sword was passed to the ancestors of the daimyo of our province. No one knows the details, but somehow the sword disappeared and never made it to the castle in Matsumoto City. Some say it was stolen, others that it was hidden, yet some others that it was given to the shogun as a sign of allegiance."
I thought about my trip to Matsumoto City. The daimyo had mentioned nothing to me with regard to the sword. He commended my father, though. So is it possible that his benevolence toward me was in some way related to the thankfulness he felt to my father?
I sighed. Edo-era samurai weren't the easiest people to get to speak their minds. It was very unlikely that I'd be able to find anything out from the daimyo unless he decided to share the secret of the sword with me.
Suddenly, an odd thought struck me: what if the daimyo himself didn't know the secret behind the sword's disappearance?
Shivers ran down my spine. What if my father was the last person who knew what truly happened to the relic?
Did that mean that the Sword of Futsunushi was lost forever?
Takumi gazed into my eyes silently, clearly perturbed by the expression of my face.
Suddenly, the words written in red ink popped into my head.
"Leave me for a while," I said, sighing.
Takumi looked concerned. "Are you alright, master?"
"Yes," I said, "I just need to think something through." He nodded. "Make sure I don't get disturbed," I added.
"Yes, master."
As soon as he left, I pulled out father's box and laid the three letters that contained the red ink side-by-side.
A divine stone.
Put this one in her grave.
20 paces to the right.
I rearranged the letters.
Put this one in her grave.
20 paces to the right.
A divine stone.
This looked very much like directions. To what exactly? Could it be the place where my father hid the secret related to the Sword of Futsunushi? Could it be that the sword itself was hidden there?
"No!" I told myself. "For the sword to be on our family estate—it would be simply impossible!"
I couldn't wait any longer. I rang for Takumi.
"I have to go for a walk," I told him, looking for my katana.
The all-knowing chamberlain looked at me pleadingly. "Your lordship, please take my advice. If our recent conversation is still on your mind, for the sake of the family, don't go anywhere you might be seen until the sunset."
I paused.
That made sense. People would be naturally curious where I might be going all by myself unannounced.
"You're right," I said reluctantly.
He bowed deeply. "Thank you, master, for your trust. If you permit me, I'd accompany you, at least partway. There might be danger ahead, and I'd never forgive myself if I was unable to assist you when you needed me."
I contemplated.
"I'll stay in the shadows," he clarified. "I won't follow you all the way, if that's what you're concerned about."
I nodded. "Very well. Let it be so."
At sunset, Takumi and I set off for the ancestral shrine. By the time we got there, the darkness enveloped the hills, hiding the estate and the trees around us from view.
"Wait for me here," I told Takumi, before heading to the graves.
He nodded silently, his face contorted with worry and fear.
I slowly made my way through the near-total darkness toward my mother's grave. I stumbled over it before I could find it. Then, I stood facing her gravestone and measured 20 steps to the right. I was by the edge of the thick yamabuki bushes. I peered into the darkness, trying to discern what was around me.
Suddenly, a thin ray of light shone from the bush, highlighting a large boulder near me.
I froze, my hand on my katana.
"You won't need your sword, samurai-sama," a melodic female voice said.
A woman in a simple tunic, holding a small lantern, appeared before me.
"Who are you?" I muttered.
She raised the lantern, gazing calmly at me. "I'm Aiko, the mountain princess."