James Axler – Keepers of the Sun

THEY STOOD IN A SOLEMN, straight line, Ryan at the center, with Krysty on one side of him, Mildred on the other. J.B. was next to her, his hand clasped in hers, with Jak at the end. Doc had nearly withdrawn himself from witnessing the killing, but had decided to go with them at the last moment, and now stood next to Krysty, feet together, fingers aligned with the sides of his pants, the silver lion’s-head hilt of the swordstick gripped in his right hand.

It was to be a private function, in one of the maze of ornamental rooms that lay to the side of the main courtyard. Unlike the previous ritual suicide and the brief and bloody fight with the ronin, this was only to be witnessed by the outlanders and by Mashashige, Yashimoto and Hideyoshi.

There were also three elderly female servants, two of them weeping openly, ready to help their mistress from this world into the next.

A swathe of white linen cloth covered the central section of the room.

Mashashige looked across at the foreigners. “We are all ready now,” he said.

Mildred took a step forward, her whole body as tense as a drawn longbow. “I have a request, Lord Mashashige. Please, will you grant it to me?”

“If it is within my powers.”

“I am the person insulted by your sister. Allow me to be the one to spare her this.”

“No.” He held up a small black fan in his left hand. “The ink is spilled, as you say.”

Mildred went down onto her knees, head bowed. “I am begging you.”

“You might beg a river not to flow. A petal of cherry blossom not to fall. A wave to return to the ocean and not break upon the beach. All things in the world of Shinto are set and settled. The woman’s doom is fixed like iron. She chose death when she insulted you.”

“Nothing I can say?” She got to her feet.

“Nothing. Your heart is too soft. We have found this to be a weakness in Deathlands. It will be the undoing of your people, I think.”

Mildred nodded, her face like marble, her eyes like jet. She turned away from the shogun to rejoin her friends. J.B. put out his hand, and she gripped it.

A door opened and in walked the sister of Mashashige. She wore a long robe of glittering white silks, interwoven with threads of pure gold.

“What kind of material’s that?” Krysty whispered, awestruck. “It’s beautiful.”

Doc was the only to know the answer. “The lady in the lake in Arthur. Her arm as it emerged from the dark waters of the mere and gripped Excalibur was clad all in white samite. Haven’t seen any in close to two hundred years. Seriously wealthy women in Boston might wear it to their exclusive parties, back when I was a brash young whippersnapper.”

The woman shuffled forward, dropping a deep bow to her brother, who returned it. She moved to the center of the rectangle of material in the middle of the room and knelt gracefully on it, her head turning toward Mildred, her face a cosmetic mask with a rosebud smile painted on.

When she spoke, her voice was so high and thin that it was barely audible, like the whispering of a bird’s wing against a pane of glass.

“So sorry for bad manner. Please forgive.”

Mildred looked past her, directly to the shogun. “What the fuck difference does it make whether I forgive her or not? You’re still going to make her top herself.”

“She will pass on to next world with easier heart,” Mashashige replied.

“For Christ’s sake.”

“Do it, Mildred,” Ryan said quietly. “It might make the passing a tad better.”

The black woman nodded, biting back tears. “I forgive you,” she said.

The shogun bowed to her and to his sister. “Now we can begin the ending,” he said quietly.

“This is called jigai ,” said Hideyoshi, who had moved to stand alongside the outlanders. “It is the woman’s version of seppuku. She will use that weapon you see being held in hands of woman servant.” It was halfway between a short spear and a daggerlike sword, with a honed edge that glittered coldly. “Called naginata . Weapon for woman.”