AUTHOR’S NOTE

In sixteenth-century Japan, a “family” was roughly equivalent to a modern Scottish clan, and people customarily stated their family name before their given name.

Some of the incidents in this story are based upon the battle of Mikata ga Hara, which took place in 1572. I have also “borrowed” some characters from history, such as Tokugawa Ieyasu, who went on to become supreme ruler of Japan in 1600, and founded a dynasty that lasted more than two hundred years.

“Everything begins and ends with respect.”
SAMURAI CODE

PROLOGUE

SHIMOMURA FAMIILY HOME SURUGU PROVINCE

SPRING 1565

Jimmu was dreaming. In the dream, a white cloud in the sky was calling him by name. Then the cloud vanished as he woke up. It was late at night. One of the screen doors in his room had been left open, and an oblong of moonlight lay across the floor. From the garden outside came the sound of water splashing on stones, and the whir and chirrup of insects.

“Jimmu!” said a voice. “You must get up.”

Jimmu turned and saw Nichiren standing over him. Araki Nichiren was his father’s most trusted samurai bodyguard, but Jimmu did not like him. Nichiren was short and stocky. His head was shaved down to white stubble, except for a tightly tied pigtail. He always spoke gruffly and never seemed to be in a good mood. Jimmu yawned and pulled a face.

“I was dreaming,” he said. “I dreamed that—”

“This is no time for nonsense,” said Nichiren. “On your feet, and hurry! Lord Kensu has asked for you.”

The mention of his father’s name brought Jimmu fully awake. Lord Kensu was not a man it paid to keep waiting.

Jimmu followed Nichiren through the house, to the main room of his father’s apartment. All the lanterns had been lit and moths were circling them. Lord Kensu was seated on a raised platform at the far end of the room. His suit of armor rested on a stand beside him. The helmet was topped by a strip of metal, shaped like a crescent moon. On the wall beside Lord Kensu hung the banner of the Shimomura family, showing a golden crab with raised claws. The same design was embroidered on the lapels of Lord Kensu’s black silk kimono. On the floor, directly in front of him, was a dagger in a red scabbard.

Jimmu bowed to his father.

“Sit close to me, Jimmu,” said Lord Kensu. “I want to see your face.”

Jimmu crossed the room and sat two arm’s lengths from his father.

Lord Kensu looked at his son for longer than he had ever looked at him before. Jimmu looked back, and saw sorrow in his father’s eyes.

At last, Lord Kensu said, “How old are you, Jimmu?”

“Ten,” said Jimmu.

Lord Kensu sighed.

“You are too young to understand, but listen to me carefully and do as I tell you,” he said. “You will leave this house tonight, and you will never return. You will not see me or your mother again in this life.”