Read Online Casca 19: The Samurai by Barry Sadler - Free Book Online
Authors: Barry Sadler
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beginning to hum in his hand, sending the now familiar, and at the same time welcome and dreaded, vibrations up his arm at the prospect of blood.
The three shugo did not hesitate when they reached the edge of the water. They leaped in full stride to reach the decks of the slowly retreating barge. Well Drinker hummed in the air, catching one of the samurai with a junmoji , a crosswise cut, while he was still in the air. The effect was quite interesting for Muramasa as he had never seen the cut made in that fashion before. It sliced the man from the left lower hip to his right clavical, splitting him open. His body collapsed in mid-air as though the spring in his leap was suddenly removed. He fell half on the deck.
The other two made the crossing. Casca met one with his sword, blocking the man's first cut in an arm jarring counter. His opponent's blade flashed in front of his face, nearly giving him a mate to the scar he already wore.
By all the gods of hades! These small bastards are fast , he thought.
Knowing the man was quicker than he was, he did the only logical thing – something illogical. He threw his weapon straight at the samurai's grinning face. Instinctively, the man had to duck, blink, and block all at the same time. When his eyes opened, Casca had his sword wrist in one hand and his other arm around his back, twisting both. The samurai's arm came loose, first at the shoulder as the sockets separated. Releasing his grip on the now useless and empty sword arm, Casca transferred his grip to the man's head. Grasping the samurai's topknot in his hand, he held the body rigid as he twisted, turning the man's head to an impossible angle. It gave way. The neck cracked at the sixth vertebra. Casca let the body slide over the side. His man was done. Picking up his katana where it had fallen to the deck after being blocked by a frantic wave of the dead samurai's sword, he turned to see if Muramasa needed any help. He saw he was wasting his concern. The last samurai was half kneeling, his head split open to the chest, the two halves pulling apart with a distinct sucking sound. Then Well Drinker rose and fell again, completing the halving process. Muramasa cut the man in two parts from head to groin.
Muramasa groaned in pleasure. The feel of the cut was so... so perfect. The feeling of the steel slicing through flesh and bone was not to be equaled by any other sensation. Raising the bloody steel above his head, he marveled at the beauty of the contrasting colors of the watered steel blending in a thousand different shades with the blood as the light of the sun reflected off the blade. It was glorious. Each time he drew Well Drinker to fight, it was shini-mono-gurui , the exalted "Hour of the Death Fury," when nothing can touch you save death, and that has no importance.
" Ikaga desu ka? " Casca asked, careful to keep his distance from Muramasa while he held Well Drinker . He didn't know just what it was, but when Muramasa had the sword in his hand and had killed, there was something different about him and it wasn't good.
Carefully wiping the blood from Well Drinker. with a silk scarf, Muramasa replied quite pleasantly, amused at Casca's use of his few words in the human tongue. "I am quite well, domo arigato ."
A movement in the rear of the barge caught his eye. He had forgotten about the women. The woman in the hat placed her namban-bo back in her robes and bowed gracefully to him. Her servant was in a near state of shock, as was the bargeman.
To the bargeman, Muramasa barked roughly, "Get us out of here and raise the sail. I do not wish to spend any more time on this unclean device than is necessary."
The bargeman made no verbal response, but if he had, he would have replied in the same manner that he wanted them off his boat as fast as possible. He was not certain in his mind that he was not going to lose his head anyway, for the samurai of Taira had been killed on his property. Miserable, he railed at his
The three shugo did not hesitate when they reached the edge of the water. They leaped in full stride to reach the decks of the slowly retreating barge. Well Drinker hummed in the air, catching one of the samurai with a junmoji , a crosswise cut, while he was still in the air. The effect was quite interesting for Muramasa as he had never seen the cut made in that fashion before. It sliced the man from the left lower hip to his right clavical, splitting him open. His body collapsed in mid-air as though the spring in his leap was suddenly removed. He fell half on the deck.
The other two made the crossing. Casca met one with his sword, blocking the man's first cut in an arm jarring counter. His opponent's blade flashed in front of his face, nearly giving him a mate to the scar he already wore.
By all the gods of hades! These small bastards are fast , he thought.
Knowing the man was quicker than he was, he did the only logical thing – something illogical. He threw his weapon straight at the samurai's grinning face. Instinctively, the man had to duck, blink, and block all at the same time. When his eyes opened, Casca had his sword wrist in one hand and his other arm around his back, twisting both. The samurai's arm came loose, first at the shoulder as the sockets separated. Releasing his grip on the now useless and empty sword arm, Casca transferred his grip to the man's head. Grasping the samurai's topknot in his hand, he held the body rigid as he twisted, turning the man's head to an impossible angle. It gave way. The neck cracked at the sixth vertebra. Casca let the body slide over the side. His man was done. Picking up his katana where it had fallen to the deck after being blocked by a frantic wave of the dead samurai's sword, he turned to see if Muramasa needed any help. He saw he was wasting his concern. The last samurai was half kneeling, his head split open to the chest, the two halves pulling apart with a distinct sucking sound. Then Well Drinker rose and fell again, completing the halving process. Muramasa cut the man in two parts from head to groin.
Muramasa groaned in pleasure. The feel of the cut was so... so perfect. The feeling of the steel slicing through flesh and bone was not to be equaled by any other sensation. Raising the bloody steel above his head, he marveled at the beauty of the contrasting colors of the watered steel blending in a thousand different shades with the blood as the light of the sun reflected off the blade. It was glorious. Each time he drew Well Drinker to fight, it was shini-mono-gurui , the exalted "Hour of the Death Fury," when nothing can touch you save death, and that has no importance.
" Ikaga desu ka? " Casca asked, careful to keep his distance from Muramasa while he held Well Drinker . He didn't know just what it was, but when Muramasa had the sword in his hand and had killed, there was something different about him and it wasn't good.
Carefully wiping the blood from Well Drinker. with a silk scarf, Muramasa replied quite pleasantly, amused at Casca's use of his few words in the human tongue. "I am quite well, domo arigato ."
A movement in the rear of the barge caught his eye. He had forgotten about the women. The woman in the hat placed her namban-bo back in her robes and bowed gracefully to him. Her servant was in a near state of shock, as was the bargeman.
To the bargeman, Muramasa barked roughly, "Get us out of here and raise the sail. I do not wish to spend any more time on this unclean device than is necessary."
The bargeman made no verbal response, but if he had, he would have replied in the same manner that he wanted them off his boat as fast as possible. He was not certain in his mind that he was not going to lose his head anyway, for the samurai of Taira had been killed on his property. Miserable, he railed at his
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