As the carnage was being cleared Rodel got back to me. “His name is Hosokawa Kojiro. He is believed to be a possible descendant of Sasaki Kojiro. Link not positively established.” The name Sasaki Kojiro was known to me.
“He has his own school and teaches very, very, few students. He is also extremely short of funding, which is why he is here,” Rodel said, then finished the brief, “He refused to increase his school size for money and there were few he felt were worthy enough to train with sufficient funding available. I think it means there are some he wants to train but no one has the money to be able to.”
The next opponent had not yet appeared so I introduced my wives to him and I told them I thought, like in a legend past, a grand battle may be seen soon. I mentioned his last name was the same as the greatest opponent Musashi had ever faced. He claimed no known relation. I asked if he had ever seen any of the true master sword smiths works of old. He said he spent many years in the military overseas and, yes, had the honor in several countries, including Japan.
I asked if he would inspect Katawasa’s Katana and explained we knew who its maker was in prior lives but there was a blank spot, all we heard was a 16th or early 17th century Japanese Lord had a sword smith who made weapons of renown, but because she was female, her name, gender and location were kept secret or was stricken from their records. Her current name, among us, was Latwasa meaning only winter snow. She made her swords by hand, but cheated occasionally by using a press and hydraulic hammer to assist in some of the folding, however this one was 100% hand made.
He agreed it would be an honor to do so, but doubted his knowledge was sufficient enough where he would be able to assist.
She pulled and handed me the sword, I blooded it and handed it to him, blade up. He inspected it, checked balance and construction, ran the flat of his hand down its length carefully noting both the inscription and the fold joins. He handed it back and looked me straight in the eye. “The construction style is known of a modern Japanese maker, but the blade and its feel are, though familiar, unknown.” However it is, in my opinion, one of the finest blades I have seen, ever. Might I pull the handle?”
“Certainly,” Katawasa said.
He removed the wooden keeper and removed the handle. He saw Latwasa’s maker marks and date then put it back together and handed it back. He had just the slightest of wetness to his eyes, but not enough to impair vision.
“She actually does better work now, this was her earliest experiments in smithing and she used one of my original swords from one of your makers, Kobayashi, as a guide.”
An eyebrow went up. “Our best maker at present, and the construction style showed the special grouping hers was from. Excellent choice of pattern as well,” he said. “One like this, new, would easily cost $200,000 or more.”
I thanked him for his time.
He asked if she also made the bokken about to come into service on the floor and I said yes. He bowed and we withdrew.
I told them what I wanted and why. Queastra asked if I really thought she would or could, now that she was also carrying our child.
Linda pointed out if her spirit wasn’t strong, she would not have been chosen to carry that child. Well, when the laughter was ended and wisdom prevailed, I was given the okay to try.
We have deliberately left her name out of our conversations since her family is very well known and her actions would have been delicate among her people. Something about marriage and honor, other junk.
I asked Rodel if she were present. Yes, she had been near the front since the start.
I told Aawasa I would find her and take her and Brigit up stairs and see if she would entertain my idea. Aawasa said to enjoy but keep an eye on our wife battling her heart out for my honor.
I told Queastra, now that the death matches are over, she might go see if the aboriginal people might be her ancestors. She kissed me goodbye and was off to the airport.
I found the Asian beauty. Her eyes danced a bit when she saw me and she asked if I saw the fights.
I asked her upstairs for tea and yes, so far Matawasa had found no worthy opponent, but one was in the works.
She accepted the offer.
We were upstairs and sipping tea, she was excited over the skills she had seen. She never believed any woman could do that. We sipped tea and talked. Yes she had always dreamed that which could never be, simply because she was born a female instead of a male. She told of the great masters she had bested in her mind, and her fantasies of marrying the greatest of them all and bearing his children, all who became legends.
“If only,” she said.
“I cannot change destiny,” I said. I thought that I might help it once in a while though.
“I do not ask, I only dream,” she said. We sipped tea and watched the fight from the booth as she and Brigit talked. Second hour Matawasa’s bokken brought a red whelp on her opponent’s side. He stopped, looked, bowed and they were now into the third hour when Aawasa came in and joined in the chitchat. After a bit the Asian girl left, she wanted to be closer to the action.
“You find her a most interesting young lady, don’t you?” Aawasa later asked.
“Yes, she is beautiful, but not that beautiful. I find her mind different, stifled, I don’t know, blocked, closed? Something,” I said, and looked at Aawasa. “Now you I find ravishing and maybe a bit hungry? I hope. Just a little?”
She laughed and turned her head and dropped it and batted her eyes, “You like Aawasa, yes?” At that Brigit smiled and went back to ringside.
I kissed her and she said, “No waves. I came up to warn you, Matawasa’s concentration is disturbed when you do so.”
I started to say something and she placed her hand on my mouth. “Be quite and work.” She kissed me, and she went once, twice, three times the Lady and we hugged as the crowd roared. Matawasa got another hit on her opponents’ thigh. “He is good, but she is far better and toys with him,” Aawasa said.
“$200,000?” I asked.
“Fair, he is an honest opponent,” she said.
I told Rodel, he opened our safe. I removed $200,000 in platinum and gold and a small necklace with our planet’s shield on it in gold. It had a little clasp in platinum below it that was inscribed, “We honor a Master of the Blade.”
It was strange. In most things women were considered equal to men yet almost none trained women as warriors. We found where swords were being used every day for exercise training in Japan and other countries, but not in true warrior training. In spite of so many generations of people fighting for equality both men and women deliberately isolated certain actions to a gender only group.
A little something for effort, I thought.
I barely got to the ring when Matawasa popped him the third time on the neck. He would have been headless.
He was stunned and awed and bowed most elegantly.
He turned to leave and I asked him to stay. Matawasa bowed and went to refresh. She was getting tired and needed the rest.
I took the mike.
“I will bore you good people a bit I am afraid.” There was laughter.
“Most do not know us, just what they saw or read or heard. My poor little wife needs time to recover so here I cheat a little, and freely admit it.” More laughter.
“I think most will at least admit, for a woman, she has some rudimentary skill with a blade?” Standing ovation, she would, they say, rock the house.
“I will show you why I did not choose my other wives, why I felt that my youngest wife would better serve to represent us. We are all warrior born, and they, the women, are warrior bred. They do it not for sport, but for survival. I feared they would kill, even with wood sticks, any opponent in their lust for battle. I know it sounds like a grand boast, but I ask you to watch the screens, what you see is part of our history, what you will see is almost 7000 of these blue skinned beauties fight and die, that the survivors might live one more day. Try to understand why I did not allow the ones you will recogn
ize in the clip to participate in what is considered a sport here. Rodel is my Defective Robot, you will see him in the final scene come to our rescue, of his own volition, and that is why he, a few chips on a board, is a Knight. Rodel if you would be so kind as to roll from where we encounter the flame pots, please?”
The whole stadium got quiet, the roof was closed, the place dark and, as per the negotiations, the entire place was wired in 360 video and sound. They were right there on the battlefield, they felt the flaming pots smash bodies, and I let it run. The sensei watched intently. I told him, “I cried after it ended, and we still cry so many years later. Tears of joy, and hate, and love, and pain. In battle we get that pain back, it bubbles to the front and there is nothing left but a kill lust. I hope you understand, of those of the blade only the fifteen and a half was not present or involved.”
He watched, he saw, he nodded, and before it was over, he left.
It ended, the lights came up and it was clear, it wasn’t quite a sport any more. People had puked their guts out, some had cried. I took the mike and went back out, eyes wet.
“I am sorry, we knew almost every one of them personally, and there is still much pain,” I said.
“Those women with the obvious Royal silk panties and Amazon battle dresses stand here today.” I called them out. “As you saw them in that clip. Here they stand. That is why they do not fight, except themselves.” I bowed. Still not a single sound. 200,000 people and not a peep above a cough.
“You did not see the biggest battle ever, you did not see the bloodiest battle ever, nor the longest; what you did see was 7000 women with three months training take on a vile race of humans who had conquered at least three planets. Who impaled women on stakes for sport, and fed them to zoo animals.
“Those women you saw left their homes and children and the few men that were still alive, and they fought and killed every damn one of the Koteck! 28,000 of them, not one was left alive. That is why we do not fight our real warriors and I hope none of the fine sensei take sleight to our using our youngest for this sporting contest we present. I believe my wife has now rested so we may continue.”
To say rock the house is the grossest understatement that could ever be made. Rock the Planet maybe, but not house.
My wives and I cried, we cried for those women who could not see themselves being honored. I told the crowd that, and it happened all over again as a TV company paid us a million extra for that one hour.
I got it back together. “I was side tracked, I am sorry.” I looked around.
“I originally came out here to give my wife a breather, but also to let everyone know we lied about the $1,000,000 prize. (a hush) The one million is neither for the final match nor the total purse.” I looked at the announcer, he nodded. “We award to each his merit as we see it. This sensei was bested in fair and honorable combat. We see and know honor, even as barbarians, or maybe because we are barbarians.” Loud applause and stomping. “On the battle field, each finds or loses honor in his own way; few see, few know. We here see, we here know. I would not give funeral costs to that arrogant, backstabbing fool my wife fought the first round. He gets my spit as did the Koteck in the video.” A round of applause. I decided we later will send his wife $50,000 for burial expenses, a family is a family and not responsible for the foolishness of one member.
“Her second opponent was also arrogant; he thought he’d have an easy time of a mere girl against his might and manhood. He did not bow after the first contact and also gets my spit.” They laughed and cheered. “We will, however, pick up his hospital tab.
“This sensei, gave honor, at the first hit, and second, and the final. He fought hard and recognized he was against, not a female, but a warrior true, in heart and spirit. For that alone we would honor him.” I bowed. He did as well.
“I present to him a small token of the gratitude we have for his presence and to honor his skill and courage. I hope he continues to train students to his standards of honor, for it is that which makes a person, not a learned skill. I give you $200,000 in platinum and gold…” Gasps and oos could be heard. “And this little bauble that shows you were here this day. There is also a check for one million dollars to train worthy women. If accepted it must be used for that or, flick, no head.”
I held the medal up and it went full screen close-up. People cheered and laughed and clapped. I knew they laughed at our motto and red panties.
“There are two hours of battle remaining, my wife is refreshed so I have done my job.” Laughter. “However, if the next opponent feels he may require study time to better present a show, he may request a stay and we would begin 8AM tomorrow.”
One hour was a long time, even for my Amazons, but most of it was circling, evaluating, quick charges, waiting for the right time to strike.
He came to the mike and said, “I am ready and I feel the young lady recovers far faster than my old body,” as he bowed.
I whispered loud enough to insure the mike picked it up. “You aught to see how fast she recovers in bed! Sheez.” Pandemonium as a blue lady turned brown.
I asked her if she wished to continue. She bounced out and said, “I’m almost warmed up now, I’ll show you later.” Total crackup from the audience.
The announcer, between giggle bouts, called them forward, they bowed, and on opening he tried a fast flurry almost immediately. Not to sap, but to confuse and distract. Not gonna happen.
By the end of hour two he knew he’d been in a fight and had one whelp to prove it. We closed the matches. The place emptied as we all sat and talked, reporters buzzed and The Sensei still had not moved.
A man had been slowly walking toward us. Rodel said he had a gun. Katawasa stood, other than that we chatted on. Linda was ready to bubble if needed.
He wanted to get closer, his biggest mistake. He was right next to Katawasa, he thought he’d made it, point blank range, couldn’t miss; he drew his gun, almost. Flick, flick.
His hands were missing, he was given time for it to register; flick, his head went missing. Flick, flick. Each leg at the knee went missing.
“We are getting quite upset at these fools. Sorry, these twits are cowards and are really starting to piss me off,” Katawasa said to the TV crew still there, as she wiped off her blade on his now still body.
We moved down the benches so his mess could be cleaned up. The sensei came over and sat down. “I am bested and have not even fought. I just watched that, I almost think I saw it. Is the one I challenged as fast? I have felt she hides much.”
“Truth, she is faster than Katawasa. We do not want to over awe, it would be no contest. To send a man with a BB gun against a fully manned tank would not be much sport. She is not, however, our fastest by any means.”
“Then may I withdraw my challenge? I do not wish to dishonor her by thinking myself capable of even giving her sport,” he said.
“Might I make a suggestion, if you are not otherwise occupied, retire with us to our humble shack that we may talk? I have several things I need to discuss with someone and my wife Brigit is but a few days to the sword and she is of this Earth, so maybe you could give her a few pointers?” I watched him. He was curious and took the bait.
“I would be most honored,” he said.
I told Rodel to find my Asian beauty and send her to the skybox at once. “Get the grounds people busy, lot of puke and stuff to clean up before tomorrow.”
As I suspected, she had not gone far. She sat alone watching our crowd as others still were filing out of the dome.
We went up to the box where I made and poured tea, which The Sensei found refreshing and delightful.
“I am told you have a small school and you teach select students. Correct?”
He nodded.
“What is the criteria for selection if I may ask?” I watched him carefully.
“A means of funds that will permit them to complete training. Many start and run out of funds and though it hurts I must release them if I have another th
at can pay,” he said.
“If you have no other?” I asked
“They may continue training, of course,” he stated.
His ‘of course’ was the decisive factor. I chose you because you can learn, I do not turn you away if I may teach you, but must turn away if needs be.
“Honestly, how many students a year do you turn away for the lack of funds? How many that you would really wish to teach, either because of their desire, or because you sense their natural skill?”
“Not many, few want more than glory or prestige and I had a few females that wanted to attract men.”
“Four a year maybe? Five in a good year?” I asked.
“Fair estimate but only two or three would continue, a lot start with the desire, but it wanes with the pain.”
Matawasa came in and kissed me. I introduced her to him and she started. “I know your name! I have read of your teachings and skills. I want to get your new book on tanto fighting. I am most humbly honored by your presence, Sensei.” She bowed deeply. She asked he excuse her rudeness for a second.
“That last sensei was good, he will develop a new style. I saw the moves, he still feels them out, but they are there and I know he will find them. Like many, he is forced by the lousy economy and stifling taxes to take students he does not want. I was–” I stopped her.
“Soft heart, Sir, excuse me a second more.” I turned to her, “How much?”
She smiled. “Say a million up front, a mil a year for, oh, five years. If he does well by it we might continue? They need some culture back, there is little honor left on this Earth planet of yours. That first despicable m-f’ing sonuvabitching bastard, piece of–” I stopped her.
“She was once a prostitute, and has a rather guttural mouth, please excuse her venomous reaction to a fool?” I asked.
“If she desires, I will be more than happy to teach her what I thought of him in Japanese. It is a bit rougher than that.” He smiled, she went hysteric.
She excused herself, she wanted to shower. She grabbed a towel and soap and was off. “My wives are as deadly without a blade as with, and use most any weapon with uncanny and deadly results,” I said. “They are my army as much as my wives.”
Blood Sabers Page 28