James Axler – Keepers of the Sun

“Sit where you wish,” the baron said, lying down and resting his elbow on one of the pillows. “I will have more sake brought.”

Outside the room they sensed some sort of disturbance. A man’s voice, hoarse, shouted loudly in Japanese, and in a flurry of movement servants ran quickly past the open doorway.

“He wishes it known that he has returned,” Mashashige said, picking up an ivory fan and covering his smile with it.

“He will be surprised to see you gaijin here,” Hideyoshi said, settling himself comfortably. “The scum from the village outside our walls will have told him of your arrival and of your looks.”

The disturbance outside was increasing, with a woman screaming and a man’s voice, thunderous and angry.

The door slid open so violently it was torn from its hinges, and everyone turned to look at the newcomer, the second-in-command of the ville.

“Fuck,” Doc said.

Chapter Nine

At that moment of highest drama, Ryan found himself distracted for a second while he tried hard to remember the last time that Doc had used a four-letter obscenity, tried to remember whether he had ever heard the old man swear like that.

He decided instantly that he thought Doc had never said the word fuck before, but agreed privately that there was a very good and cogent reason for it right now.

The samurai who stood in the doorway was in a towering rage, his sword drawn in his right hand, eyes glaring, spittle clinging to his chin. He wasn’t wearing full armor, like Toyotomi Hideyoshi, but contented himself with a light breastplate, his helmet in his left hand.

A deep scar slashed across his face disfigured him, half-closing one eye, pocking his cheek and seaming down toward his ear.

He was pointing at Ryan with the sword.

“You, sodai gomi gaijin . You slew my dear brother!”

Mashashige didn’t seem that surprised at the interruption. Standing slowly from his couch, he hardly raised his voice. “You should not draw your katana in the presence of your lord, my friend, unless you fear that my life has been threatened.”

“What did he call me?” said Ryan, trying to buy a few moments that might calm the situation.

“He said that you were outlander rubbish.”

“But he said that I killed his brother.”

“You did.” The samurai shuffled a few sideways steps across the floor toward Ryan, the point of the long sword held low. “You cannot say you have not.” He hurled his helmet across the room in his rage, so that it ripped through the thin wall and vanished into the next chamber.

“This is Takei Yashimoto,” said Doc, who had recovered most of his composure, though the big Le Mat had magically appeared in his fist.

“Who?” Ryan said.

“We met him and his brother close to the ruins of the old city of Washington. I believe it is better known now in Deathlands as Washington Hole, as that is all that remains.”

It all flooded back to Ryan. “I killed his brother. Tokimasha was his name.”

“I broke his bow with the revolver,” Mildred said. “One of my better shots, though I do say so myself.”

” Kokujin bitch!”

“The scar’s down to old Betsy here,” Doc said quietly, tapping the chamber of the Le Mat with his other hand. “Can see why he’s in such a temper.” He hesitated and bowed to Krysty and Mildred. “And I apologize for my grossly intemperate and obscene expletive, ladies. I was taken a little by surprise.”

Ryan rested his hand on the butt of the SIG-Sauer, wondering whether the newcomer was about to suffer an apoplectic fit. His mouth worked uncontrollably, and his eyes stared at the six Westerners, the sword waving in the air as though he couldn’t decide which of them to attack first.

“These are the ones you spoke of, moons ago, when you returned from Deathlands?” Hideyoshi asked. “The lord had said to me that he wondered if it was so.”

“Honor demands their deaths,” the enraged Samurai spluttered, “at my hands.”

“They are the guests of Lord Mashashige,” responded Hideyoshi, whose hand, Ryan noticed, had dropped to the hilt of his inlaid sword.