The morning was young but the early sun had risen high enough for its heat to be felt. Matsu Takeko wiped her face with a handkerchief, thankful that she only wore light armor today. "You are probably thankful, too," she said to her horse. The animal declined comment, but he did speed up slightly. Takeko frowned until she realized that the road was dipping down towards a stream. She let the horse set his own pace until they reached the stream, and then she slid out of the saddle and let him drink. Kneeling down beside him she also drank, then refilled her water bottle.

Takeko rechecked the horse's saddle and tack. She didn't need to check the scroll-case she carried: it was safe in her obi, opposite her daisho. To be chosen to bear a message from her lord to the commander of the Kyakuchu garrison was a great honor for someone so young, and it weighed on her more heavily than her armor. "Hurry up," she told the horse. He ignored her, but a few moments later he stopped drinking and started to browse among the wildflowers that fringed the stream-bed. Takeko got back into the saddle and pulled him away. "You'll have plenty to eat at the post station," she said, urging him into a trot.

A mile from the stream the road divided. As she turned her mount's head to the west, Takeko reflexively scanned the east, and her eyes narrowed. A handful of heimin were surrounding a small cart, apparently defending it from a gang of bandits. At the moment the bandits were hanging back, but Takeko didn't think the spears the heimin were using would deter them for long. She frowned. It was a samurai's duty to protect the weak, and banditry was against Imperial law. On the other hand, if she was killed she would fail in her duty to deliver the message. A moment more of thought and she smiled and kicked her horse into a run. If she killed the bandits instead of them killing her, there was no problem.

As she bore down on the combatants Takeko drew her katana and gave a fierce yell. "MATSU!" At the sound of it the heimin spearmen looked Up in hope and the some of the bandits turned to meet her charge with fear on their faces. She cut down two of them as she ran past the group, then rolled out of the saddle. She was a good horseman, but she preferred the solidity of earth. She landed easily and dashed in to attack. One bandit flinched out of her way and found himself in the zone of the spearmen. The heimin made short work of him.

Takeko killed two more before being confronted with one who had skill with a sword. After a flurry of blades they broke apart. They circled each other for a moment, testing, and Takeko leaped back in with a swift slash. Her opponent eluded her attack and counterattacked, drawing a red line of blood down her upper arm. She grinned with a combination of pain and triumph--his sword was now too far from his center to stop now her. She twisted her blade and brought it back around, cutting off his head. That broke the courage of the remaining bandits, and they began to run down the road.

Takeko took two steps, wanting to pursue, and stopped suddenly when her head started to spin. The wound in her arm, she concluded, was more serious than she had first thought. She looked around and the heimin all prostrated themselves. "You," she said, " catch my horse. I must get to Kyakuchu." Then she fell over.

"You have shown great courage and devotion to duty," Maruoka said. "You have brought great glory to our clan, and I am sure that this will not be the last such time."

"Thank you, Maruoka-soma," Takeko said. "To serve with honor is my only desire."