“Because Lord Ankan expects me to train you,” replied Kyo. “Whatever is wrong, you had better sort it out in a hurry, Jimmu. You’re starting to lose your edge. If you continue like this, I’ll have to tell Lord Ankan that you’ll never make the grade as a samurai.”

This exchange shocked Jimmu, and he embarked on several lengthy and painful bouts of self-examination. The conclusions he drew were not comforting.

Lord Ankan had been right: Nichiren’s lies had warped Jimmu’s development, and turned him into someone he was not meant to be. The malign influences of his past still clung to him—his nightmares made that plain—and they would go on clinging to him until he discovered who he truly was.

Spring came early that year. Shortly after the thaw, a green haze of new growth showed in the farmland around the castle.

On a fine morning, Jimmu was summoned to Lord Ankan’s private rooms. He guessed why, and resigned himself to whatever fate Lord Ankan had decided for him.

Lord Ankan was seated in a shaft of strong sunlight. The sound of birdsong drifted in through an opened shutter.

“You are better, I trust?” Lord Ankan inquired, after Jimmu’s preliminary bow.

“My body is much better, thank you, My Lord, but my spirit is troubled,” Jimmu replied frankly.

“So Ina Kyo has informed me, and I believe I can explain why,” said Lord Ankan. “The ghosts of the dead still haunt you, and you will never lay them to rest while you remain in Mitsukage Castle. You are too close to me, and the memory of your old hatred.”

“Your Lordship means to banish me?” ventured Jimmu.

“I mean to send you on a samurai pilgrimage,” Lord Ankan said. “You will travel the country, seek out great sword-masters, and learn all you can from them. You will also visit shrines and pray for guidance. When you are purged of your past, you will return here.”

Jimmu was mystified.

“Return, My Lord?” he said.

Lord Ankan nodded.

“I have spent many hours meditating on your story, and I cannot help concluding that my father was partly to blame for what happened to you. If he had treated Nichiren less harshly . . .” Lord Ankan sighed. “Well, what is done cannot be undone, but it may be atoned for. Since the Emperor has decreed that the family name of Shimomura no longer exists, I am prepared to adopt you into my family, once your pilgrimage is over.”

Jimmu felt close to tears. Choju Ankan, the man he had been brought up to hate, was offering him more than his own father ever had. Jimmu had discovered the truth at last, and his inner and outer world had become one.