"We were told that you were, um, the village's best storyteller," Hazō said. "We were hoping to hear about the history of the Country of Iron."
Granny Yoshino raised her eyebrows. "Well, now. Curiosity's a fine thing in the young. Take a seat—mind the cat—and I will tell you the story as it was told to me by my mother, and to her by her mother, and to her by Old Man Kanda who always thought he knew everything."
Her voice took on a melodic, ritualised quality, ruined only by the occasional cough.
"The Land of Iron is harsh, but fair. To those who do nothing, she gives nothing, but to those who bend their backs in worship, she once gave all the riches of the earth.
"In time, those riches attracted the eyes of the cursed shinobi, who cannot see a thing without desiring it, and cannot desire a thing without at once taking it by force. For countless generations, we lived under their thrall, our daimyo nothing but a helpless puppet, all that was best in our land sent to the clans of the south as tribute to line their pockets.
"But one day
he was born. Ashikage no Yōtarō, the Liberator. The Liberator was blessed by the Heavens with more of the magic called chakra than a dozen of the cursed shinobi, and he had a vision. Hidden away in the wastelands of the north, he devised a sword art that drew its strength from any man's chakra, be it as mighty as a storm or as feeble as a falling teardrop, so that no longer would all power be held by a few oppressors while the greater part of mankind suffered beneath their yoke.
"When the time was right, he came to seek disciples within each of the great cities. He told them that the way of the cursed shinobi was the way of spies, thieves and assassins, and preached of another way, a way for men of honour to serve their land. He taught all who wished it the art of the samurai, the honoured servant that carries out the will of the people. And when the cursed shinobi came to collect their due once more, the samurai cut them down like the dogs they were, and set their heads upon spears outside the great city of Konoma.
"But the armies of freedom were not ready. When next the cursed shinobi came, they came in force, an alliance of clans such as could not have been imagined in those early days. They slew the Liberator and hunted down every last one of his disciples. They burned all of the great cities to the ground to ensure that no trace of rebellion survived, and they placed cruel overseers so that we would never think to rise again.
"Now the Land of Iron is a shadow of what it once was. The cursed shinobi pillaged the land until there was nothing left, then left her for dead. But we know that the iron of our land is not only within the earth, but also within each of our hearts, and we await the prophesied time when the Liberator shall return to turn that iron into a warrior's steel."
Wakahisa said the first thing on his mind. "Aren't you afraid that the ninja will punish you for talking about them like that?"
Hazō tried to kick him in the ankle as subtly as possible. But Granny Yoshino didn't seem to think there was anything odd about the question.
"What could they take from us that they haven't taken already?" she said bitterly. "What have they got to fear now they've slain our warriors and broken our weapons? The only shinobi with any interest in us anymore are the missing-nin, and they are the enemy of our enemy."
She gave Hazō and the others a meaningful look, but said nothing more.
Standard Operating Procedure:
