Jimmu was puzzled. The only devotion Nichiren had mentioned was devotion to the memory of Jimmu’s father.

The captain became awkward. He shifted his haunches, cleared his throat, scratched his chin.

“This brings me to a delicate matter,” he said. “Earlier this evening, I was granted the honor of an audience with Lady Takeko. She talked incessantly about your courage, strength, and gallantry.”

Jimmu lowered his face to conceal a blush.

“Lady Takeko is almost sixteen,” said Captain Muraki. “Sometimes she behaves like a child, and sometimes like a grown woman. Such girls are impressionable, and liable to form attachments that are unsuitable. Are you listening to me, Jimmu?”

Jimmu raised his head. “Yes, sir!”

“If Lady Takeko should seek out your company again in future, you are to discourage her,” the captain said. “You will remind her that she is your mistress, and you are her servant.”

“Sir?” said Jimmu, far from certain of the captain’s meaning.

“Let this be a test of your obedience,” the captain declared. “If you fail, you risk undoing everything that you achieved today. I foresee a danger Lady Takeko may become too fond of you. Do all that you can to prevent this from happening, or you will earn Lord Ankan’s wrath as quickly as you earned his gratitude. It is not acceptable for young ladies to have tender feelings toward guardsmen. That is all I have to say for the present, Jimmu. Leave me.”

Outside, in the chilly air of the courtyard, Jimmu was not sure whether he had been praised or chided, and he was confused by his reaction to Captain Muraki’s warning. The possibility that Takeko might be fond of him was oddly appealing. But his mood swiftly changed from confusion to resentment.

Discourage Lady Takeko? he thought as he trudged toward the barracks. Why would I want to have anything more to do with her? She’s vain, rude, and argumentative. She may look beautiful, but beauty means nothing. Beauty doesn’t last. Determination and dedication, those are the vital things!

As he passed the exercise yard, Jimmu heard an irritating creaking noise that caused him to turn his head.

Torches were burning around the yard, illuminating the body of Sadamichi, dangling from a makeshift gibbet. The gibbet’s wooden joints creaked as the corpse swayed slowly in the wind.

I don’t want to die like that, thought Jimmu. I don’t want to die in shame, but in glory, with my sword in my hand, and Choju Ankan’s body stretched out in front of me.

A sudden doubt stopped him in mid-stride. Captain Muraki had told him that a samurai’s first duty was obedience to his lord—but surely that meant that a samurai had to be certain that a lord was worthy of his obedience. How had Lord Ankan convinced an honest man like Captain Muraki to serve him? Would the captain really be willing to sacrifice himself in order to protect a scheming coward?

Before coming to Mitsukage Castle, Jimmu had thought he knew the truth about Lord Ankan, but the longer he stayed, the more shadowy the truth seemed. And what of his own truth? He had fancied that Nichiren trained him to be a samurai, but increasingly it seemed that all Nichiren had taught him was how to use samurai weapons. It appeared there was more to being a samurai than simply killing.