James Axler – Keepers of the Sun

“WHATS THAT?” Ryan asked Hideyoshi, pointing to a building that stood on a tall headland that jutted out into the ocean. It was two storys high, with dozens of windows, and looked remarkably like one of the abandoned motels that were still dotted all across Deathlands.

“It was a house for staying a night. Built on American pattern.”

Ryan nodded. So his first impression had been correct. “It in use?”

The samurai looked across at Yashimoto, who was riding a little to one side of them. “I think it has been closed for some years, has it not?”

“I do not know. I do not travel as far as you do. My duties keep me back at the fortress more than I would like.”

“Someone’s been there recently,” Ryan said. “Still see traces of a fire out back.”

A thin column of what looked like woodsmoke was curling up into the afternoon air, before the rising northerly breeze shredded it away.

“Tracks lead there,” Jak said. “Could loop around and see if come out other side.”

The column had stopped.

Mashashige beckoned for his two chief advisers to come forward to the head of the small army, indicating that the Westerners should also join him.

“We are sadly much fewer in our best samurai after the tsunami,” he said. “We cannot trust our peasants to scout for us. They are lower than low.”

“Want me to go ahead, mebbe with Jak and J.B. to have a look for you?” Ryan asked.

The shogun considered the offer for several seconds. “I think that it would be difficult,” he replied. “My people have great kenbei ” He looked at Yashimoto.

“Hatred of Americans,” his second-in-command explained. “This is very true, Lord.”

“We are a society that believes in the old traditions. To go against them is to risk a loss of honor and a deep loss of face. No, I cannot accept your brave offer of help, Cawdor-san. But I thank you for it.”

Ryan sniffed. “Sure. So, what do we do? Ride up and hope that the ronin has fucked off?”

“You are angry,” Mashashige said. “Why?”

“Stupidity always makes me angry,” Ryan snarled. “They got an ambush there and you could lose half or more of your men before you can get off a shot against them. That place looks as good a defensive position as I’ve seen in a month of Sundays. Could be hiding a hundred ronin.”

Yashimoto laughed, throwing back his head, the pallid sunlight gleaming off the horned helmet that framed his face. “The killer of my beloved brother is frightened!” he crowed. “I catch scent of fear on him.”

“Man who doesn’t sometimes get frightened has got either no brain or no breath,” Ryan said. “That place could be filled with your enemy.”

“Then we shall slay them.”

“Why choose hard when you can pick easy?” The ancient scar across Ryan’s face was throbbing with fire as his anger surged.

Mashashige held up his hand. “Enough red-eyed talk. You are both right and you are both wrong. We will all ride up to the place and see if they shoot at us. If they do not, then we can bring up the rest of the sec men.”

“One way of doing it,” J.B. said.

“We could send in a party of foot fighters,” Hideyoshi said cautiously.

“Not honorable,” the shogun replied.

“No, of course not honorable,” the chief of his sec force agreed.

“Not honorable,” Yashimoto echoed with rather less enthusiasm.

“Then let’s get to it,” J.B. said.

Ryan sighed with exasperation at the lack of combat tactics. “I guess that waiting until dark to increase your chances wouldn’t be honorable, neither.”

Mashashige considered the question. “It would be difficult,” he said.

In the end they dismounted and approached the building on foot, Mashashige conceding that they would make more difficult targets that way.

Yashimoto swaggered around, eyeing Ryan, his hand gripping the hilt of his sword.

“Tight-assed little shit, isn’t he?” Mildred whispered to Krysty, watching as the stocky samurai walked away from them toward a small hill.

“Way he walks makes him seem like he’s carrying a raisin between the cheeks of his butt for charity,” Krysty said with a giggle, making Mildred laugh out loud. Both of them looked away as the samurai turned suspiciously at the outburst of noise.