The Blazing Tempest

DISCLAIMER: This story is a non-commercial work of fiction based on the anime/manga Samurai 7. Original copyright of Samurai 7 belongs to Akira Kurosawa, Shinobu Hashimoto, Hideo Oguni, MICO, GDH, GONZO. Absolutely no monetary gain has been made with this work.


THE BLAZING TEMPEST
By Rory V. Pascual (Edited by Saiyukihana)
© Original Version 2001; Samurai 7 Version June 24, 2006


Chapter Twenty-Three

A week passed -- seven precious days spent making the remaining trek to the Amanushi's realm at the oasis of Ain Mehira in the Tanezrouft, one of the smaller deserts of the Sahara. Thankfully, the caravan, except for Masamune and Gorobei, had gone ahead with their Master, his two generals and his precious concubine. With nothing to hinder their movements, with the notable exception of Moeru's tiny cart to help the colt make the
journey, the three men crossed the distance in record time.

It was around two to three hours close to midnight when the three men entered the gates of the Amanushi's kingdom. The servants came forward to take away their horses. One attempted to take the colt, but Moeru hastened to the Samurai's side, sticking close to Shichiroji's leg like a large fly.

"He stays with me," Shichiroji ordered, caressing the colt's head in reassurance.

One of the guards approached them and bowed. "Sir," he addressed Masamune, "the Master has instructed me to tell you that you are to escort our guest to his chamber near the west wing of the Palace. Our Lord will be indisposed this eve and will, instead, attend to you tomorrow."

"Indisposed, my ass," Shichiroji mumbled, with a snort. "He's probably fucking his whore."

"Excuse me, sir?" the guard asked, frowning.

Gorobei came forward. "It's nothing, young man. "Come! Show me to the military quarters and tell me what has happened here in the years that I've been gone." He bowed to his companions. "Good evening, Masamune, Shichiroji."

As the two men left, Masamune motioned to the Samurai. "You heard my instructions. Let me take you to your chamber."

Entering the Palace, they walked through torch-lit hallways, the servants and guards bowing to them as they passed by. Shichiroji surveyed his surroundings with a critical eye. Despite its garish, rather tasteless, opulence, the Palace was built like a fortress. One could easily get lost in its twisting hallways and numerous rooms. There was something about the Palace's construction that disturbed him greatly. He just could not put his finger on it.

Shichiroji's chamber was a spacious room, containing everything that he would need. Weapons, blades shining like brand new, were arranged on a rack. There was a bookcase where various tomes were laid as well as some dusty scrolls. For his writing convenience, there was also an escritoire with quills, paper and a bottle of ink. Probably informed about the colt, one of the servants had placed a tiny cot for Moeru.

Laying his pack on the chest at the foot of the large bed, the Samurai turned to the scribe. "I want to see Kanbei."

"Are you out of your mind?" the scribe exclaimed. "You'll get us all killed!"

"No, I won't. Masamune, you know the ins and outs of this Palace. You know how I could see Kanbei without being seen myself."

"I won't agree to this lunacy. For once, please heed Kanbei's words."

But Shichiroji stubbornly shook his head. "Even Kanbei himself knows that I am my own master. If my guess is correct, Kanbei will be in Ukyo's chamber. So, are you going to show, or do you want me to bang on every door in this place?"

Saying this, the Warrior headed straight for the door. Masamune stopped him.

"No!" said the scribe. "I'll show you the way."

As Shichiroji looked on, Masamune pushed a stone in the wall. At once, the wall slid back, revealing a small tunnel. Before the Samurai could step inside, the scribe blocked his path with his outstretched arm.

"Before we proceed," Masamune began, "you must swear to me that you will keep silent, especially when we reach the Royal Chamber. You will see things inside that room, unspeakable acts that could arouse your anger. You'll know the kind of hell Ukyo has been putting everyone through, especially poor Kanbei."

Shichiroji's jaw hardened. "I swear it." He gazed down at Moeru. "I want you to stay here, little one."

The colt quickly shook his head.

"Don't argue with me! This is a perilous place. It would break Kanbei's heart if anything should happen to you. Please, for your safety, I beg you to stay."

Reluctantly, Moeru sat down at the opening, lower lip jutting out in a pout. Shichiroji patted the obedient colt on the brow. "Thank you. I promise I'll tell you how he is when I return." The Samurai turned to the scribe. "Let's go."

At these words, Masamune entered the tunnel first, the Warrior following him. It was a rather tight squeeze, allowing them only to walk in single file. The tunnel ended in a small room. To Shichiroji's surprise, he found himself facing a window, overlooking the
Royal Chamber. He could clearly see the bed, though silk screens and curtains covered it. From his position, the Samurai knew he was looking through the mirror hanging on the wall. There were two men in the chamber. Hyogo was standing by the bed, with a goblet
in his hand. Judging from his flushed face, he was drunk. The mechanical samurai Kikuchiyo sat, Lotus position in the far corner of the room, arms folded over his chest, waiting.

"How come they don't sense me?" the Samurai asked, frowning. True samurai could detect the presence of another through their chi.

"A curiosity of this place," the scribe answered. "I don't understand it myself. There are…stories…about this Palace, but they are better told at a later time."

"Where's Ukyo?"

Before Masamune could reply, a booming voice declared, "Where have you been, my sweet pet? I've been looking all over for you!"

Then, Ukyo, the Amanushi of Ain Mehira, appeared from the left side of the glass, whirling around and around with Kanbei trapped in a bear hug. To Shichiroji's shock, as Ukyo set the whoremaster down, he struck the older man hard in the face. Kanbei fell to the ground. There were flecks of blood on the floor. Shichiroji knew that the concubine was bleeding from his mouth.

"I told you I don't want to be kept waiting," the evil ruler said ominously. "And why this veil again? I told you not to wear this in my presence." Ukyo reached down and tore off the veil from the concubine's face. Perhaps out of habit, Kanbei's hands flew up to
cover his face, but it only caused the Warrior's anger to rise. "I told you I want to see your face! Don't disobey me, whore!"

Those words caused a chill to go up the Warrior's spine that he closed his eyes. He himself knew that those words were a prelude to terrible brutalities.

Sure enough, Shichiroji heard a sharp crack followed by an agonized cry, causing him to open his eyes once more. His eyes widened in horror, seeing Ukyo with a whip in hand. Mercilessly, he hit Kanbei's back. With each descent of the whip, the concubine's robes were torn, bleeding welts forming on his skin. At the first four and five lashes, the whoremaster would cry out. But later, he could no longer utter a sound. He just lay on the floor, his breath coming out in shuddering gasps.

"Bastard!" Shichiroji hissed in fury. "That damned bastard!" Unsheathing his spear, he was about to break the mirror, but Masamune grabbed his wrist.

"No!" the scribe whispered furiously. "You'll only make things worse!"

The Warrior argued. "I can't let him do this to Kanbei!"

"Why should you care, Shichiroji? Haven't you hurt Kanbei yourself in exactly the same manner?"

Pushing the Samurai against the wall, Masamune pointed to the horrific scene, taking place inside the chamber. Ukyo had lifted the helpless concubine, unmindful of the poor man's feeble cries of pain, and threw him onto the bed. He then straddled the whoremaster, the whip still in his hand. As Hyogo especially watched and laughed,
the cruel ruler thrust the handle of the whip inside the concubine's ass.

"Take a good look!" Masamune wept. "See yourself in Ukyo! You are no worse than he is! You're both monsters!"

Shichiroji felt the tears trickle down his cheeks as he watched Ukyo ravish Kanbei. When he was through, he let his generals have a turn on the concubine's battered flesh. To his horror, though the men, the Amanushi and Hyogo in particular, defiled him in every perverse way they could think of, the concubine bore the abuse in silence. It seemed to Shichiroji that the whoremaster was a sacrificial lamb being savaged by a pack of wolves.

There was a horrified whinny at their feet. Shichiroji swiftly knelt down and shut Moeru's snout with his hand before the colt could utter another sound. Moeru struggled to break free, but the Samurai hugged him tight to his chest.

"Hush, Moeru! We can't do anything to help him now!" whispered Shichiroji. "Just turn away! Don't look!"

Minutes turned to hours. Shichiroji had frozen where he knelt, holding a crying Moeru, his eyes riveted to the perversions taking place inside the room. He knew that Kanbei's defilement will forever be etched in his memory. Masamune could only sit on the floor and pray for the poor concubine.

The sun was high up when the Amanushi and his men departed from the chamber, leaving Kanbei hanging from a set of slings, his body limp, bruised and bloodied.

Kikuchiyo had hesitated for a moment, glancing back at that bloody form, but Hyogo grabbed his arm and pulled him outside the room.

"You must go now, Shichiroji," said Masamune sadly. "I will tend to Kanbei."

"No!" Pressing his palms to the mirror, Shichiroji asked, "How do I get in there?"

"Shichiroji, please!" the scribe begged him. "Kanbei would not like you to see him like this. He has no idea that you already know who he is."

"I have already seen more than I should and I did nothing! I must get in there! Kanbei needs me!"

Before Masamune could argue, the Warrior pushed hard on the glass. The wall gave way immediately, revealing a secret passage into the chamber. As Shichiroji hurried towards the bed, he barely heard Masamune call out his name. All his attention was focused on the broken form hanging on the slings.

Kanbei must have heard Masamune's cry or seen the shadow from behind the curtains. When Shichiroji came into view, the concubine let out a mewling cry, desperate to hide his face, but too weak to do so.

At that small sound and his feeble efforts to conceal his features, the Samurai realized that the whoremaster would be more devastated if he were to find out that Shichiroji already knew who he truly was. As he came closer, his shocked blue eyes, however, were focused on the damage done to that café au lait skin. The ugly welts all over Kanbei's body revolted him. There were bite marks around his nipples. Over his thigh was a dusky handprint. He was bleeding profusely from his ass.

Seeing the veil on the floor, Shichiroji picked it up. Kanbei quickly turned away and whimpered as the Warrior lifted his head from the sling. When the Samurai's finger accidentally brushed against his cheek, the whoremaster's hands flew to his face.

"Don't be afraid," said Shichiroji soothingly, squeezing his eyes shut. "I'm just going to put the veil on you. I'm not going to look at your face."

Carefully, the Warrior wrapped the veil around the concubine's head. Kanbei slowly withdrew his hands from his face. His trembling fingers found the cloth and pulled it down, clutching it tightly.

With a concerned whinny, Moeru galloped towards Kanbei, desperate to reach his beloved master hanging above him.

The sight of the little colt caused the concubine to break into new tears. For the first time, he spoke hoarsely, "Moeru? Is that you? Is it really you, Moeru?"

Shichiroji pulled out a knife. "Don't move! We'll get you down." He cut through the ropes of the slings. As the whoremaster settled into the Warrior's arms, Kanbei let out a weak cry of pain.

"I'm sorry," Shichiroji said. "I'm going to lay you down on the bed."

As he did so, the concubine whimpered. Sitting down beside the older man, Shichiroji patted Kanbei's hand and eased Moeru beside him. The whoremaster embraced his dear little friend.

"Masamune, fill that basin with warm water, will you?" the Warrior turned to the scribe. "He needs to be cleaned."

Masamune hastened to do Shichiroji's bidding. He then carried the basin and laid it on the table, handing a washcloth to the Warrior. As he looked on, Shichiroji began cleaning Kanbei's body.

"Gorobei has some salves," the scribe suggested. "They might be of some help."

"Yes, please," agreed the Warrior. "Bring them to me, and any medicine or herbs you might find."

The scribe nodded, "I'll be right back," and headed for the door. Suddenly, he paused, looking at the Samurai. Softly, he said, "Shichiroji…"

"Don't worry," Shichiroji assured him, continuing with his work. "I'll take care of him."

Giving the Warrior one last dubious glance, Masamune hurried off to Gorobei's chamber, closing the door behind him.

As he continued tending to the concubine's wounds, Shichiroji declared, wanting to sound cheerful, though his heart was breaking, "Well, Shinno, it's just you and me."

~~~~~~~~~~

Shichiroji had no idea that Kanbei was watching him suspiciously, with a little fear in his heart, his grip tightening around Moeru's neck.

// Why is he doing this? // the whoremaster asked himself. // Why is Shichiroji being so kind to me all of a sudden? // A thought suddenly crossed his mind, filling him with dread. // Maybe...maybe he wants to bed me. // As a tear fell down his cheek, Kanbei bit his lower lip. // Why doesn't he just get on with it? //

When Shichiroji raised the wet cloth again to clean the wound on his chest, the concubine took his wrist. The Warrior looked at him curiously. Holding his hand, Kanbei brought both their hands down. He winced as he raised his legs, spreading them wide apart. Stifling the sob that was rising up in his throat, he laid Shichiroji's fingers over the bleeding orifice between his legs.

~~~~~~~~~~

The Warrior was stunned to silence. He could not believe what Kanbei just did. But the blood and semen on his fingertips brought him back to his senses. That, and the weary resignation in the older man's body.

"NO!" Shichiroji pulled his hand back as if he were burned, standing up from the bed.

Then, the whoremaster burst into tears, his body shaking as he wept.

"Shinno?" the Samurai whispered, not knowing whether he should call back Masamune or wrap his arms around the distraught concubine.

Instead, he knelt beside the bed, clasping his hands together like a supplicant.

"Is…is that what you think of me, Shinno?" asked Shichiroji, crying himself. "That I would want to...bed...you, even after what Ukyo did to you?"

This caused Kanbei to weep harder, realizing that the Warrior had seen him being abused. "Why? Isn't this what you want?"

"No! I don't want this!"

"But you hurt me before, just like this!"

"Masamune's right!" Shichiroji said bitterly. "I am a monster, just like Ukyo! In my anger and desire for revenge, I lost track of who I am. Yukino, my dead wife, she's probably turning in her grave right now in rage, knowing what I did to you."

The Warrior took the concubine's hand. "How can I say 'I'm sorry'? How can I ask for your forgiveness, after all the terrible things I did to you, the way I toyed with your feelings for me? You have every right to hate me. Gods, I hate myself! Shinno, I won't ask you to forgive me. Forgiveness is earned, along with trust. I swear I won't hurt you ever again. Let the next Warrior take my head if I can't keep my promise to you."

Weeping in anguish, Shichiroji pressed Kanbei's hand to his lips and kissed it over and over again.

~~~~~~~~~~

Kanbei looked sorrowfully at the Warrior kneeling beside his bed. Shichiroji was kissing his hand, in remorse, his tears wetting his fingers. His heart ached for him to say the words that would bring peace to the younger man's anguished soul. // I forgive you, Shichiroji. It is I, Kanbei, the man you once called 'husband'. After all this time, I still love you. // Already, his left hand was rising, wanting to soothe the Warrior's ravaged brow. But Kanbei stifled the urge, clenching his left hand into a fist at his side.

// How could I believe you, Shichiroji, // thought the concubine in despair, // when all you've done is hurt me? //

~~~~~~~~~~

Shichiroji stayed with Kanbei for two hours, tending to his wounds with the salves that Masamune and Gorobei had brought for him and simply watching until he had at last fallen into deep sleep. Although he was tempted to gaze fully at the older man's beauty, the Samurai suppressed the urge to peel off the veil. Instead, he bent down and kissed the concubine on the forehead. Picking up a snoring Moeru, Shichiroji exited through the
mirror. There was no need for Ukyo to know that he had been here. He feared what the Amanushi might do if he learned that the Samurai had been with his precious whore.

It was most unfortunate, however, that as Shichiroji closed the mirror entrance and walked off, he did not bother to look back. Another door behind the dresser opened and a huge grotesque figure stepped inside the chamber, quietly padding over to the sleeping concubine on ash gray bare feet.

As the bed was neared, a gray, clawed hand reached out and gently pulled the blanket away from Kanbei's naked form. With a wave of its hands, first one, then two, then three, then four, movements so quick that one could not tell just how many appendages there were, it healed the bruises on the whoremaster's body, leaving him whole again.

For several minutes, it stared at the beauty of the concubine. Again, it raised its hand, eager to caress that café au lait.

Suddenly, its fingers encountered an energy barrier that sent electricity jolting through his arm. It let out a snarl of surprise and pain. It thought that this…force…would've diminished with the passage of time and the number of lovers that this luscious mortal had through the years. But it was much stronger now. Peering at Kanbei with its 'other' sight, it saw that the whoremaster's soul remained pure. True, his body was tainted. His spirit, however, remained unsullied, defying any attempts to have it stained or broken.

It let out a frustrated growl. For so long, it craved to sate its dark lust upon the concubine's body. It would have to wait again. For how long, it did not know, but the wait was killing it.

There was a soft whimper from Kanbei's lips. A smile formed on its face, seeing the mortal's hands descend to probe the orifice between his legs and stroke his rising shaft.

A tear trickling from his right eye, Kanbei fondled and pumped himself to an explosive release, whispering one name over and over again. "Shichiroji…Shichi…"

It nodded in satisfaction. It looked like it did not have long to wait after all. This concubine's beautiful body and his chaste soul would belong to it.

All it would take was a broken heart and just one small wish from those luscious lips. Just one small wish.


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