The Blacksmith of Kouku

Amidamaru knocked three times on the door of a small tattered hut.

Nobody answered.

He had been standing there for a few minutes but no one was responding to his calls. He was expecting to hear the usual metal clanking from inside but only silence welcomed him. The place seemed to have been abandoned for weeks.

He peered through a hole in the window which was covered with thin wooden planks. He only saw darkness. He scanned the old dilapidated house with his eyes trying to decide if this was really the place that he frequented. The once busy abode of Kouku's blacksmith, Mosuke now stood out like a rejected piece of furniture amidst the grandeur of the kingdom's central town.

"Are you a friend of Mosuke's?" an old man holding a long cane inquired from behind Amidamaru.

"Yes," replied the Kasai warrior. He considered the blacksmith a close acquaintance even though they resided in opposing kingdoms.

He had met the blacksmith in a drinking pub on the night of his first mission in Kouku. He found him sitting alone with ten empty pints of ale. It was crowded in the pub that night and Amidamaru had no choice but to share seats with him.

Mosuke did not mind him. Probably he was too intoxicated to even notice him pulling a chair. What he did notice was the two full pints that Amidamaru placed on the table. The Kasai warrior could only finish two without becoming tipsy. After all, he needed to be in good condition for his first royal mission.

Without saying anything, Mosuke grabbed one of his pints and drank it all the way. After that, he pointed at the tip of Amidamaru's sword, the Harusame. Although it was sheathed, Mosuke's eye had caught a slight damage caused by the warrior's rigorous training with the soldiers of Kasai. The blacksmith offered his services to fix the sword as a payment.

Since then, Amidamaru would drop by Mosuke's house and had his weapon maintained every time he went on a spy mission in the enemy kingdom. In return, the warrior will treat him to a drinking session. They would sometimes go home very drunk, singing out of tune songs at the top of their lungs.

He had never mentioned to the blacksmith where he came from. Mosuke was not the chatty type. He never asked questions but Amidamaru knew that his friend was able to deduce and perhaps ignore the fact that he was from the other side of the Great Spirit's River. When Mosuke talked, it was always about his craft and his growing distress over his dying art.

"Have you not heard of his recent passing?" the old man gave Amidamaru a curious look.

The Kasai warrior was taken aback. "He's dead? No, I did not know… I was… overseas most of the time." He bowed down his head in grief. "How did he die?"

"He was murdered," the old man said grimly. "May the Great Spirit bring him peace."

"What?! By whom?" Amidamaru was filled with rage. Mosuke was a very quiet and reserved person except maybe when he was drunk. He wasn't the type to make enemies though. He often said that he preferred making weapons more than using them against another human being.

"Nobody knows…" The old man shook his head. "Every morning my wife would drop by to share our meal with him. Mosuke would skip breakfast when he was too busy or too drunk the night before so he usually welcomed the free food. My wife found him lying in a pool of blood when she came to his house. It took quite a while before she had recovered from the shock. The general who inspected the body said he had been killed with a sword. It's quite ironic for someone who had spent his life forging such weapons."

"Was his killer apprehended?" The white-haired warrior gripped the handle of his sword in anger. He swore he would avenge his friend's death. Why would anyone go after him when he was such a gentle soul?

"Unfortunately, the killer left no traces of his identity. Mosuke's murder remains to be one of the two unsolved cases of our kingdom. Surely you have heard of the royal family's massacre?"

"Yes…"

"It's quite a coincidence that both unfortunate events seemed to have happened on the same night. Mosuke's death was overshadowed by the massacre of our beloved monarchs so only us, his neighbors were able to grieve for him."

"Wait, you mean to say that---"

"Four people were murdered that fateful night - - - our beloved king, queen and princess, and the lowly blacksmith named Mosuke."