James Axler – Keepers of the Sun

He bowed in the saddle. “Forgive me. I am called Toyotomi Hideyoshi.” He stared at them as if he anticipated some kind of response at the mention of the name. “You are not familiar with the name. It is a greatly honored one. One of the greatest generals that our country has ever known.”

“I’m sure you bear the honored name with honor,” Ryan said, inclining his head, surprised at how easy he was finding this archaic way of speaking.

“If any man wishes to challenge the name and the respect that sits upon my helmet, he must face my sword and will die slowly at my hands.”

Ryan simply nodded.

The warrior was still not happy. “My lord, Mashashige, will not welcome” he touched his eyes under the helmet ” metsuke . One who attaches their eyes as an enemy.”

“Spy?” Krysty asked.

He smiled at her, then immediately turned it into a frown. “Yes, but it is not for a woman to tell a samurai what is a word meaning.”

“Sure,” she muttered.

During the conversations, the rest of the horsemen and the army of retainers had all stood motionless, their faces betraying no emotion. The bowmen had their arrows notched, but had made no effort to draw the longbows. Ryan knew more than a little about archery, and he couldn’t imagine what kind of a powerful pull would be needed to loose a shaft. To string the bows would probably take at least three men.

“But we stand here while the cranes fly south and the demons gather at the northeastern gate. Kimon. The gate of demons,” he added.

“Did you know we were there in the house?” Ryan asked, gesturing behind him at the tall gates and the peaked roof of the mansion.

“Of course. Our brothers had been traveling into Deathlands. They could tell that the gateway had been used recently.”

“How did they know that it wasn’t one of you who had used it?”

“The sticks of incense had not been lit on the altar.”

“Of course. Elementary, my dear Watson,” Doc muttered. “The dog that didn’t bark. The joss sticks that weren’t lit. Obvious when you know how.”

“Is it far to your home?” Ryan asked.

The man stared. “Every journey begins with a single step,” he replied.

Ryan was becoming tired of the verbal games. He was hungry, the stink of pollution in the air was getting to his throat and his eye was watering. “Can’t argue with that, but it’s fuck-all use at answering my question.”

The Japanese leader shook his head sorrowfully. “The man who speaks with words of fire might discover that he has burned his own mouth.”

“Gently, lover,” Krysty whispered, her hand touching Ryan’s arm.

He nodded, taking long and slow breaths. “You either tell us how far it is to your ville, or we turn around and go back into the house and jump out of here.”

The man laughed, striking himself on the chest. “My heart swells with pride that a gaijin of such courage is to be our guest. You speak to me like that, though you know that I might lift one hand and a thousand times a thousand arrows would feather themselves in your corpse.”

“And you’d be falling off your horse with a 9 mm bullet through your skull,” Ryan replied calmly. “So, let’s cut away the shit, shall we?”

“The shit? Ah, yes, the bullshit that we know of. Of course. It is an education to hear you speak pure American. We have heard it when in Deathlands.”

“You speak it well,” Doc said. “How can that be? Why American and not Japanese?”

“Our lord will answer all questions,” Hideyoshi said, his face splitting into a smile of satisfaction. “But I thank you, Grandfather, for your kind words.” One of his comrades leaned across and whispered to him. “It is about four miles to ourwhat was your Deathlands word? Ville? You can walk that far? Perhaps we should send transport for the women.”

“We can walk you off your feet,” Mildred replied, “any day of the week.”

The smile disappeared and he pointed a finger at her. “You are a guest in our land, not strutting and flaunting yourself in your own second-rate country. It will lead to sadness if you do not remember that.”