Chapter 4: The Shogun and the Master

The Shogun had sought him out.  He had gone to the ten masters and charged each with making a better blade for his troops. He was an oddly small man but known to be exceedingly strong and somewhat cruel.  The lands to north he explained were constantly invaded.  The swords of his men could not pierce the armor of these savages. They could not slice through the plates to bone.  They cracked and shattered against shield and helm. Build us a better sword he charged the master.

The master worked through another night. The process had started long before the forging of the steel. He had scarcely slept over the past week.  First, the construction of the kiln, molded from the rivers clay bed, and then the sourcing of the iron sands had taken much of his rest.

He watched as his apprentices heated the steel to glowing red pokers.  This fiery creature of his invention, eating coal and birthing steel. .  Iron sands between layers of coal had been placed in the urn then heated by the master to make the Kera.  When the ore was finally ready the men tore at the beast with clawed sticks pulling it apart leaving the glowing red ore exposed. He sorted the ore. Some he knew would be hard, very hard.  This would form the edge of the blade, the soft ore would bent and flex and this would be the heart of the blade.

He watched as they systematically hammered the steel.  Sparks of imperfection with each blow.  He watched as they folded the red flattened metal back upon itself, hammer, fold, hammer, fold and hammer. Over and over. With each folding of metal back upon itself, one layer became two, 2 layers became four, four became eight.  Over and over.  The apprentices looked at the master as he counted off the folds and layers.  Again, he commanded.  On into the night. 30,000 layers of steel until the sparks ceased and the metal was pure.

Then they married the two ores, The hard steel hammered thin over a wedge of thicker soft steel.  The master painted clay on the thinner edge of the blade, slowing the cooling process on the treated edge hardening the blade while leaving the backside and internal softer and more flexible.

When the blade was ready the master plunged it into the water.  It hissed as it cooled.  He lifted the metal and watched as the tip.  The molecules in the steel cooled and contracted,  The blade pulled in upon itself, curving upwards.

One one edge it was thin and curved to slice, the other edge of the blade thicker to block not break.  One side offensive the other defense.  One side danger one side safety. The light caught the edge.

            The master inspected the sword.  The painted clay had burnt away leaving a ghostly signature along the blade, Each section of the blade he reviewed for its perfection, the ha, the ghostly hamon, the hira, the shinogi.  The master nodded.

In the river the Shogun had prepared his tests. He placed each sword, its blade facing the upstream current. The leaves on the water hit the blades.  Each blade that a leaf became stuck upon and not sliced through was pulled from the water and discarded by the shogun.  Soon only two bladed remained.  The masters and one other, that of a former apprentice.  The apprentice’s blade was struck by a leaf and it sheered it in two, the halves floating down the river.  The shogun nodded and looked then to the masters blade.  Each leaf approached the blade but each time as if by some magic of kindness the leaf never reached the blade but simply moved to one side or another.  The shogun had his men gather piles of leaves and dump them en mass into the current above the blade.  Each time the waters parted and the leaves unharmed flowed past.

The shogun was frustrated.  The shoguns saged advisor nodded, “It’s a noble blade, discerning what it cuts.”

“We won’t be using the sword to cut leaves either way” the Shogun countered and began constructing another test.

He gathered two shields captured from his enemies in previous battles and mounted each on a pole.  Stab the shield he commanded.  The apprentice went first.  He approached the shield with confidence.  He thrust his blade giving a shocking cry as he did.  The blades pierced the shield to the hilt.  The Shogun nodded.  That is a fine blade.  He turned to the master.

The master approached on old unsteady legs.  He placed the tip of the blade against the shield.  He slowly pushed the blade with the tips of two fingers  and the blade sank deep.  Then with an alacrity of a deer, he grabbed the blade with his other hand and twisted.  The blade carved a circular whole in the enemy shield as big as a mans head.  The discarded circle of wood rolling on the floor like a piece of lose change stopping at the Shoguns feet is a noisy spiral.

The Shogun used the sword in many battles, when he died he passed the

sword on to his son and his son passed it on again. Generation after generation.