Cold Blood
Page 9
The rider eased out of her stirrup and swung down from the saddle. In the undergrowth, near a twisted pine tree, she found a round, black rock about the size of her fist, which she placed before Jizō. A rock to help the dead children escape the Yellow Land.
Mochizuki neighed nervously. “Why are you nickering?” But before she finished speaking, she saw two riders approaching through the twilight. Weapons sheathed, they rode toward her at a canter.
In a single motion she swung back into the saddle.
The strangers slowed to a trot. If they were brigands, their armor likely would be a hodgepodge of looted pieces; yet, both of these riders wore elegantly matched sets of armor.
Probably samurai.
But that didn’t mean they weren’t a threat.
She sat straight up in the saddle, paying attention to every subtlety.
The strangers brought their mounts to a halt. “I am Shinjo Taro!” the elder warrior declared, raising his voice above the thump of hooves, pulling the woven blue silk cords of the bridle.
The comely one, the one who rode a half stride behind Taro, called out, “I am Sato Jiro!”
It was protocol for samurai to announce their names before a duel.
Do they seek combat?
“May we ask your name?” Taro’s request was as much a command as it was anything.
“I am Taka Yamabuki!” she growled in answer as she had been taught, suppressing her female voice-range.
She eyed Taro—the dark and scarred one. His wild mane of hair could not conceal a grisly scar across his forehead. His forearms and face were likewise marked. Part of an ear was missing; two sword hand fingers, gone.
Fingers lost in battle, or forfeited for missteps?
Jiro looked at least ten years younger than Taro. For all of Taro’s battle scars, Jiro was flawless and untouched.
Pretty.
He resembled a youthful courtier, or a young page; yet when their gazes met, she saw something icy and deadly lurking behind his eyes.
For a fleeting moment, she wondered if the two men were lovers. She knew that some warriors became emotionally drawn to one another. There was something about battle that forged these sorts of ties—deep ties. She pushed the thought aside. What they were to one another did not matter. She had to remain watchful. They were men; they were dangerous; and there were two of them.
Cold Saké is available now!
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Books by
Katherine M. Lawrence
Cold Saké
Sword of the Taka Samurai series
Cold Blood
Cold Rain
Cold Heart
Cold Trail*
Cold Fire*
Cold Steel*
Cold Fate*
Swords of the Immortals*
* Coming soon