James Axler – Keepers of the Sun

“What is it?” Doc asked.

Ryan held out the palm of his hand, showing half a dozen small steel balls. “From that pachinko game they play. Must’ve used a catapult. Something like that.”

Suddenly Mashashige appeared at his elbow, holding out his hand to take the steel balls. “Many of my men use catapults for sport. There is no possibility of finding who was responsible for this attempt at murdering. I regret this.”

Ryan thought that he didn’t sound as though he really regretted it all that much.

THE TRAIL WIDENED once they reached the top of the pass, enabling them to ride in a group rather than in single file. Another pony had been found for Ryan, an iron-jawed brute with a suppurating growth over one of its eyes.

J.B. had walked his animal alongside Ryan. “Reckon it was Yashimoto?” he asked.

“Probably not. We were all so close together it would’ve been difficult to fire a catapult at me without the risk of one of us spotting him.”

“But he was behind it?”

Ryan slapped the pony across the side of the head when it turned and tried to bite him on the thigh. “Probably. If there’s a firefight at this ronin camp, then it might be a good idea for one of us to try and take him out.”

Krysty was alongside him and she turned, eyes wide. “Gaia! You mean chill him?”

“Sure. Best enemy’s a dead one.”

“You don’t know it was him who tried to kill you.”

“He threatened me. That’s enough. You don’t have to see the eye behind the gunsight to know whose finger’s on the trigger. But we’ll only do that if we get a clear, safe chance.”

“Looks like scouts seen something ahead,” Jak said. “Back in hurry.”

“Ronin camp?” Mildred asked, easing herself in the saddle. “God, but I’ll be pleased to get off and walk a bit.”

Far below them they could see a rocky headland groping its way into the leaden ocean.

Chapter Sixteen

The camp was abandoned.

That was obvious as soon as the head of the column moved within a quarter mile of the jutting headland. A thin pillar of white smoke rose from the ashes of what had once been a big cooking fire at the center of a trampled patch of cropped turf, marked with the faded shapes where tents had stood and where a number of horses had been tethered.

Mashashige held up his hand to stop the advance as they closed to within a hundred yards, calling for Hideyoshi and Yashimoto to join him. He looked around and also beckoned for Ryan and the others to ride forward to the head of the war party.

It was an exposed section of land, with bedrock showing through the gray turf in many places, crisscrossed with the narrow tracks of wild sheep or goats.

There was nowhere for ambushers to hide in wait.

“This is known as a place of magic,” the shogun said once the little group had gathered around him. “Very old and rich with spirits of ancestors.”

White-topped waves were breaking high over the weed-slick rocks, kicking up a constant spray that turned into magical rainbows and then vanished.

“What kind of magic would that be?” Doc asked.

“There was once a fortress here, commanded by a great warlord called Takeda Shingen. He had appointed a young samurai as deputy shogun in his place, and this youth became fascinated with magic. He communicated with spirits of the past and ghosts from the darkness, white-faced princesses that wished to drink blood from the throat of the samurai.”

Ryan flapped his hand to drive away a cloud of tiny iridescent flies that were clustering around his face. “Where was this fortress?” he asked. .

“There.” Mashashige pointed. “See broken walls where once was a mighty palace.”

It was difficult to see much of a pattern among the tumbled boulders, though Ryan conceded that there was some possible evidence of regularity in the lines of rock.

“But he angered the great ones. He had proclaimed he would become immoral. No, that is wrong word.”

“Immortal,” Doc prompted.

“Thank you, Doctor. Immortal. And that nothing in the heavens or on the earth would bring low the walls of his great house. That night there came dragons with golden scales, raging with flame-filled mouths from the north. And there was fire and great destruction. By dawn not a man or woman lived, and not one stone stood upon another.”