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himself from a breakfast buffet set out in the dining hall. To his and the
others' relief, their hosts had laid on a Western-style meal or an
approximation of what they regarded as being a Western-
style meal.
The scrambled eggs were awash with vinegar, and the bacon had been pickled
first. There were balls of rice and surprisingly good hash browns, along with
some spiced sausage links and about four different types of fish.
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James Axler - Death Lands - Keeper of the Sun
Doc tried something that looked like smoked trout and spit it out on his
plate, exclaiming in disgust, "I most strongly urge you, friends, not to essay
any of the fish. It is a dire mix of fins, scales, bones and purest mercury.
It grates with the fillings in my teeth most alarmingly."
Yashimpto was standing near Ryan. "You pick at what you eat. You know the
labor and the cost of growing and harvesting this food? The price is high,
gaijin
."
"Not our problem," Jak said, pushing past the samurai to get at some sort of
fine-ground rice with soya milk and a rich plum sauce.
"Tell us about the prisoner," J.B. said. "He do any chilling?"
Yashimoto shook his head, beaming at them, a stray spear of sunlight coming
through the slats in the bamboo blinds and glowing across the scar on his
face. "We found where the first man broke in. Perhaps there was help from
within. A rope hung down into the water, and a small round boat was there made
from skins, painted black. Toyotomi Hideyoshi went with three other samurai
across the bridge and made a circle around and about the fortress. Through the
trees. There they caught another such man. Now he waits to die."
Krysty approached the buffet to take a second helping of the rich soup called
miso, which had bean curd and dried seaweed floating in it. She and Mildred
had both picked it for its high nutritional value.
"He going to be executed?" she asked.
The samurai looked past her, his eyes watching dust motes in the morning
sunlight. For a moment it looked as if he were going to totally ignore the
woman.
"No," he finally said. "He will choose to take his own life. That way he saves
his family honor from shame."
"Hara-kiri," Mildred said. "Going to chill himself with a sword?"
The warrior's face showed a passing pang of disgust. "No, foolish grandmother.
Hara-kiri is vulgar and common, to be used by peasants and people of low
class, outlanders and stupid old women."
"So what's the right way to describe spilling your guts on the floor?" Mildred
snapped.
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James Axler - Death Lands - Keeper of the Sun
"Seppuku. Done not with sword but with a knife, called wakizashi
. Followed by beheading by a friend. This conclusion is called kaishaku
. It is a very, very honorable ceremony."
"Include us out," Ryan said.
But the second-in-command of the fortress shook his head, grinning like an ape
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on jolt.
"That is not allowed to be possible, Cawdor-san."
"How's that?"
Yashimoto pointed a finger at him, like an angry schoolmaster. "You are all
guests of honor of Lord Mashashige. He would wish all men who are honorable
guests to come and show witness at the dying."
"Only men?" Krysty asked.
"Of course!"
"Well, just this once I'll go along with your male chauvinism without a
protest."
"Seconded," Mildred said. "Very high on the list of things that I don't want
to see."
Ryan shook his head, pouring some fresh orange juice. "I don't think any of us
want to come."
He turned to Yashimoto. "Can you just give our excuses to Mashashige?"
Doc nodded. "Correct, Ryan. Tell your master that we plead a subsequent
engagement."
The samurai looked puzzled. "You do not comprehend. Not a matter of choosing
for you.
Lord Mashashige invites, and you must all come. All four of you. It will
happen as soon as the sun reaches the highest point in its journey across the
celestial heavens before it begins to sink once more toward its resting in the
far skies of the west."
"Noon," Ryan said.
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James Axler - Death Lands - Keeper of the Sun
DURING THE MORNING Doc asked for and obtained a set of mah-jongg tiles,
offering to teach the others how to play that most subtle of games.
Ryan, Krysty and Mildred finally agreed to give it a go, sitting at a
green-baize-covered table in a room with slitted windows along its northern
flank. A trio of young geisha came in and watched, giggling immoderately at
the attempts of the gaijin to master the complexities of the game.
After a while one of them got bored and went to sit with Jak, who was flipping
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