The prologue and a piece of art for DISHONORED: THE DAUGHTER OF HACHIMAN

Here’s the first draft of the prologue, which introduces us to the book’s primary antagonist, a character that makes a big impression here and then disappears for several chapters before returning in a big way…

Heat from the fire came in waves, carried by the dry winds, rushing over the face of General Suguru Hidaka. He kept his lips pressed tightly closed and squinted against the flakes of ash that drifted around him. Behind him was the border between his homeland, the Kingdom of Kaji, and the enemy he was sent to subdue, the Kingdom of Kuthai. Before him was the smoldering remains of the defenses once guarding the village of Kawatoshi, the first fortified city on his march to the capital of Kimjuro.

“This city fell without incident.” Hidaka said, standing proudly before his conquest. Beside him was General Chiro, his second-in-command and the only soldier on the battlefield—any battlefield—that he completely trusted, other than himself.

“There are twelve fortifications between here and Kimjuro.” Chiro said, smirking at the ruin before them. “If they are all this easily taken we will have the Kingdom before the Summer season is done.”

Hidaka drew in a deep breath with his nostrils. “Do you smell it, my old friend?” His companion mimicked him, though he snorted as he did, choking on the arid, charred air. “Not the smoke, or the ash. The rest of it. The smell was lingering in the air when we first arrived, before the first building burned.”

“I smell only death.”

“Yes.” Hidaka replied, looking over the work of his army. “But before that was the stench of fear. The city was rank with it.” His eyes lazily turned to the figure beside him. “This was the first fort we came to, the closest to our border, the first line of defense…and they were oozing fear like a festering wound oozes puss.”

“Yes.” Chiro replied, nodding and smirking.

“What will we find as we drive deeper into the heart of their territory? Do you think those fortified cities will be as prepared for war as this one was?”

The question was not rhetorical. Hidaka was testing his companion, whom he had trained and prepared for combat leadership from youth. Chiro was a general now, but his rank was not earned from years of experience—he was only forty years old—but instead came from years of tutelage, studying under the guidance of the much older Suguru.

Kaji’s “First General,” as he was titled, was the most experienced, most imposing, most demanding, most infamous warrior in all the Kingdom. He loomed over rivals and companions alike, standing six-foot-six, with broad shoulders that always bore great pieces of armor. To see his silhouette as he rode his destrier against the rising sun—his preferred time to strike a foe—was to see a man seemingly as wide as the common soldier was tall.

Rumors abounded that he was the descendant of a Kyojin giant, and the General did nothing to dispel such talk: He hammered the legendary eight-pointed symbol of the Kyojin into his helmet, and ordered all the Kaji battle flags under his command—typically banners adorned with simple strips of red and gold—to be painted with the same symbol in the center. His horse was a great beast standing eight feet tall, whom he named Imbo, after the infamous kyojin of Hahi, whose deeds were recorded in history passed down by people across all the Kingdoms of Shoto.

None dared face Suguru Hidaka in battle, and any foolish enough to try contended with a fighter trained in the use of sword and polearm, though the latter was his preferred weapon: Tipped with six points, some short, some long, some straight, some curved, the weapon was designed to catch and break any blade that was thrust toward it. Its long reach, combined with the wielder’s large stature, made the General a seemingly impossible fighter to contend with in a melee.

A figure like that, the very definition of the word “intimidating” would only ever need to sit atop the hill overlooking the battle, and let his mere presence cause the enemy’s will to buckle. Hidaka, however, was not content to sit back and watch a fight unfold. He was a warrior at heart, and craved the taste of blood. His grey beard was often stained red from the splatter of gore that splashed across his face as he fought.

Reflecting on all these things regarding the man who led them, Chiro’s response came swiftly and confidently: “The deeper we push into Kuthai, the more they will fear and the more certain of their defeat they will become.”

“It took a week to break Kawatoshi’s defenses. It will not take twelve weeks to break the rest. They will fall quickly, and each one more rapidly than the previous. Kimjuro will be ours in a month.”

“General!” a soldier rushed toward the men, apparently from the front line of the battle as his dark orange armor was stained with streaks of blood. “The village is aflame!”

“The village?!” Chiro snapped. “Only the forts were to be burned.”

“Yes sir…” the soldier answered, stooping a bit as he stood in the presence of the two leaders of the campaign. “I did not order it, but—”

“Do not make excuses for yourself, Isao.” Hidaka growled. His head was lowered and his eyes were barely visible beneath the brim of his helmet. The fires that burned from the destroyed fort around him flickered against the metal horns that formed a crescent moon atop his head. “You were put in charge of securing the village.”

“I was, General.” Isao said sheepishly. “I will find the soldiers responsible and bring him to you for swift justice.”

“You will not.” Hidaka replied tersely. “You will find the ones responsible and then you will carry out swift justice yourself. That is the burden of leadership. Do you understand?”

“Yes, General.”

“And then,” Hidaka added, stopping the cowering soldier before he could scurry away, “you will return to me so that I may dispense swift justice against you for your failed leadership.”

Imao had no response to that other than a pathetic nod as he backed away. The distant sounds of shouting and the steady roar of nearby fire filled the air after that. The Generals had nothing more to say.

“The village elder ought to have surrendered by now.” Chiro remarked after letting the quiet linger for several minutes.

“The delay is no doubt due to our own soldiers’ incompetence.” Hidaka grumbled. “We do not burn villages. We take them. We consume them. We use them to grow the crops that feed our invading forces.”

“Yes.” Chiro said. He knew all this but he also knew better than to interrupt the man in charge when he was venting his frustrations. 

“The moment we attack their homesteads, their farms, their crops, their cattle, the villagers take up tools to fight against us. Village leaders grow emboldened to defend their homes, and a sudden, crushing victory becomes a prolonged conflict with more injuries and lives lost than I prefer.”

“Of course.”

“Swift justice…” the First General muttered, squinting his eyes in seething anger. The Kaji army made camp at the outskirts of Kawatoshi. Hidaka did not rest, however, choosing instead to sit outside his tent and wait for word from the village leader. Until he had a formal surrender in his hands he refused to relax. It was late in the night, with a half-moon glimmering above that an Kuthai envoy approached his shelter.

The village elder was Kimura Onda, and he dismounted with three of Suguru’s warriors surrounding him. Slowly the old man crept toward the waiting General, who remained seated, staring at him with passive indifference.

“Bring us tea.” Hidaka muttered to his aide, who rushed away at once to prepare the drinks.

Onda’s terror was obvious as he neared, though he needn’t be too fearful; Hidaka had a reputation that would terrify even the fiercest warrior, but it was only those who opposed him that felt the fullness of his anger. Though he had no particular respect for a non-soldier, he understood the need for diplomacy and was always courteous to those with whom he negotiated. His notorious anger was seen only when dealing with an insubordinate warrior or, even worse, when faced with a common citizen that did not show him (or his army) the respect and deference that—in his own unbending judgment—a warrior was owed.

“Esteemed General.” Onda said as he reached the seated man. Hidaka was still fully garbed in his bulky armor, greatly enlarging his size and casting monstrous shadows against the faint, flickering torch lights beside him. “I have come to submit terms for our surrender.”

“There are no terms. Your surrender must be absolute.” Hidaka said flatly and decisively.

“And it would have been, had your army conducted themselves with honor.”

Hidaka looked the man over. He was almost surprised by his bluntness and boldness of speech. Privately the General realized he had underestimated the Village Leader; it was not meagerness the man possessed but meekness, and a quiet confidence. It was almost admirable, and would have been if he had been a proper soldier as Suguru was. “You refer to the burning of the homes in your village.”

“I do.” Onda replied.

“Rest assured that matter is resolved. I have personally ordered—”

“Eight farms were torched.” Onda said, interrupting the General, which was not an action he was used to experiencing.

“I am not keen on being interrupted.”

“I am not one of your soldiers.” Onda said. His bluntness was now becoming brashness, a trait Hidaka found reprehensible as he always demanded decorum and respect be given to those of a higher rank, and other than the King of Kuthai—who was soon to be deposed, if Hidaka had his way—there was no one in the country of a higher rank than he.

“You do not need to be a soldier of mine to give me the deference I am owed.” Hidaka said as he rose to his feet. “The issue of your eight destroyed homesteads is resolved.”

Onda rose to his feet, unsatisfied. From his breast pocket he produced a parchment, waving it in the General’s face. “This letter was sent to my village one month ago, as it was sent to every other fortified city in Kuthai.”

“I know of it.” Hidaka said, growing more impatient by the moment. Rarely did he have to endure negotiations that did not involve the other party groveling before the might of his superior forces. The boldness of Kimura Onda was no longer a curiosity; now it was an annoyance.

“Your King, the so-called High and Mighty Inoki Genkei, offered safety and security to all who surrendered.”

“As I said, I know—”

“He specifies our villages, crops, farms would not be harmed if we—”

“Do not—!” Hidaka’s katana—custom made to accommodate his large hands—was plucked from its sheath and sliced through the air before the General could finish his reply. The blade cut both air and flesh, and removed Onda’s head from his shoulders in one smooth stroke. “—interrupt me.” he said, finishing his remark.

“General, you—” Chino began, but stopped at the stern eye Hidaka cast toward him.

“Bring me Isao Takeo.” he growled. Chino hurried away, feeling like the weak retainer he had been as a boy, serving the General his tea and cakes at the end of a campaign.

Less than five minutes later, Chino returned with Isao in tow. From the look of him, the soldier had been resting, enjoying the night’s peace and quiet. “Have I interrupted your slumber?” Hidaka asked, feigning an apologetic tone.

“I…uh…”

“Ahh, I see I have. Your body is here but your mind is still asleep.”

“No, General, I—”

“While you have been dreaming sweetly I have been dealing with the demands of a conquered village elder…demands he should never have had the audacity to make. And do you know why he made them?!”

“No—I mean, Yes—I, uh…” Isao stammered and stuttered, unsure if it was better to look ignorant or incompetent the General hated both in equal measure.

“You were in charge of securing the village, were you not?!” Hidaka barked, then continued before Isao could reply: “You were in charge of creating a perimeter around the unspoiled land, were you not?!”

“Not a scout or a messenger slipped by us!” Isao insisted.

“I did not ask about scouts and messengers. The town was burning!”

“It—it was two foolish young soldiers. I dealt with them as commanded!”

“And then you went to bed, happy in your day’s work. Kneel before me.” The request came so suddenly in the midst of his diatribe, the pathetic soldier failed to hear him. He stood there, staring stupidly at the enraged General. “Kneel at my feet!” Hidaka shouted again. With a hop, the warrior rushed over and dropped to his knees. Chino opened his mouth, intending to caution the General against doing anything rash, but Hidaka’s head shook twice, stopping him before he could. After that, large blade sliced through Isao’s neck and ended his life.

Hidaka wiped the blood off his sword, returned it to its sheath, and plopped down into his chair, breathing heavily to release the last of his pent-up adrenaline. Chino stood beside him, hardly surprised by what he had seen but no less anxious over it.

“Now…” the General said to his companion. “Now you may tell me what you were thinking a moment ago. Tell me why I was wrong to maintain discipline in my army.”

“The village leader is dead.” Chino began. “Surely that will create a bigger problem than a few half-burned houses.”

“There is always a replacement.” Hidaka replied. “Someone always comes along and takes over. The next one will receive the same assurances from King Genkei, but he will receive them with the understanding that I have apologized for the burning of their homesteads, and…” he added, glancing down at the severed head of Onda, “the certainty that I will not apologize twice. I expect no more trouble for Kawatoshi.”

“Nor I, but now you may find trouble in Unotachi.”  Chino said, thinking of the capital city of Kaji.

“Isao Takeo.” the General remarked.

“The son of Nakamura Takeo, the King’s well-favored advisor. He will not be pleased to learn you deprived him of an honorable death.”

“Honorable deaths are for the soft, the weak, and the small. We are warriors of Kaji, conquerors of the land. It is not for us to have noble deaths. We are killers. Victory is life and life honorable. Death is not.”

“Perhaps we should send a letter to King Genkei.” Chino said, drawing a look of inquiry from the imposing First General; Hidaka wasn’t sure where his right-hand man was going with this train of thought. “Better to hear the reasoning from you than from someone else who might…cast you in an ugly light.”

“If the King wishes to reprimand me while I am in the middle of conquering the whole Kingdom of Kuthai, that is his prerogative. In the meantime we will make out way west and I will hear nothing else about Isao Takeo.”

“Understood.” Chino said, bowing before leaving. The matter was hardly closed, but he knew better than to challenge the First General when he has made a definitive statement. Still, the young leader could not help but worry how the rest of their campaign would go. The Kingdom of Kaji had been a belligerent force over the past ten years, much of which was due to the success of Suguru Hidaka.

One generation earlier, Kaji was a dwindling power, with their traditional boundaries overrun by entrenched invaders of Kuthai to their west and Yumea to their north. After Inoki took the throne from his more timid father, the old Generals were dismissed and Hidaka was tasked with winning back the territory that had been lost. Yumea’s occupation was driven back across the Isthmus of Goro and the Kingdom soon sent emissaries to Genkei with a treaty to stop any further aggression. Emboldened by the decisive victory, Hidaka pressed the King to order the invasion of Kuthai, promising an easy victory and a clear path to invading and taking the south island of Na’noshima as well.

Now they were mere weeks into the campaign and already the proud people of Kuthai are showing much more backbone than those of Yumea. Chino feared the overly aggressive Hidaka was the wrong man to lead the campaign. He retired to his tent that evening, but not before drafting a letter detailing the sloppiness of the victory at Kawatoshi and the dishonorable death of Isao Takeo.

When the note was finished, Chino knew he had signed his own beheading, should the First General read its contents. He was willing to risk it, however: The lesser General did not believe his old mentor was the right man for the task ahead. Someone with more patience and finesse was required, he believed.

With the letter signed and sealed, Chino handed it to his retainer, giving him discrete orders to hurry it back across the border, stopping at nothing until it reached the hand of King Inoki Genkei himself. After that, he allowed himself to sleep, and dreamed of the days ahead, when he would oversee the invasion, and how much better his leadership would be for the conquest of Kuthai, and for the Kingdom of Kaji in general…

The character of General Hidaka will slowly be unveiled as the story progresses. Here we see him in absolute command of his environment. He’s a gruff, old, take “no lip from nobody,” kind of ultimate soldier, and is leading an invading campaign to conquer a neighboring kingdom; he is right at home, in other words. He’s in his element. What might happen to someone like that when his environment and circumstances change? We’ll see.

Here’s what he looks like…