Date: Thu, 4 Aug 1994 00:13:47 -0500 Reply-To: Highlander TV show stories Sender: Highlander TV show stories From: Wayland DeGreen Subject: 1000 years Part 2 of ? ----------------------------------------------------------------- 'ONE THOUSAND YEARS' A Short Story by Russ Krook III (c) 1994 Part 2 of ??? Send comments to Wayland@vax1.bemidji.msus.edu A thin smile crossed his lips in the near dark. "The name of the Kishijoten cursed Gai-jin, is Ramirez..." * * * The castle was overrun. The red robed forces of the invading Warlord flickered through the rooms of the castle, like the many smaller fires that continued to burn uncontrolled across the valley floor. Darkness. Out of the darkness came a faint glimmerof pain. Terrible pain. Asuka's breath came in ragged gasps his life's blood pooled thickly beneath him. The blood wa warm, warmer than the ice that now seemed to flow sluggishly through his veins. Hazy red shadows danced across the ceiling through his slitted eyes. A salty, coppery taste filled his mouth and he gagged. This was no way for a warrior to behave. What would the Shogun say if he saw... The Shogun! With a feeble heave, Asuka forced himself to flop onto his side. His robes clung wetly to the floor and his armour hung in tatters. Using his Katana as a cane, he forced himself shakily to his knees and then slowly to his feet. In the courtyard of the castle he could hear the frenzied screams, as the remains of Yamashida's forces mounted a la ditch attempt to keep the invaders from reaching their lord. The young Footsoldier staggered down the corridors to where the Shogun would be. Turning a corner he spotted another of his fellows crumpled silently on the floor Yoshi's deep blue robes were rent from several strong blows, and the youth's weapon lay a few paces away from his outstretched fingers, unbloodied. "Sumimasen Yoshi," Asuka whispered to his fallen comrade as he picked the other weapon from the ground. The weapon was cold and heavy to the touch. The sword was the soul of the Samuri, and Asuka shivered as he held Yoshi's cold, dead soul in his own shaking hand. Asuka turned and continued through the hallways. He passed several more blue robed bodies, cut down like dogs in the street. A sharp clang of steel against steel echoed through the halls. Asuka's body surged with energy and he raised his weapon to his shoulder. He no longer coughed blood and the pain had almost vanished. Rounding another corner he spotted the enemy at the threshold to the Shogun's chambers. A trio of red robed warriors spun, their weapons at the ready. Summoning all of his energy, the young footsoldier charged. The first soldier swung his Katana; Asuka blocked low with Yoshi's sword and struck out with his own Katana. The red Samuri's throat fountained across the paper walls. The invader's partner lunged forward, thrusting his weapon deep into Asuka's thigh. Asuka's leg buckled as he returned the blow, sending the surprised warrior spinning into darkness. The third Samuri grinned malevolently, his bloodshot eyes and yellow teeth giving him a demonic appearance. `You're too late, fool! Your army is gone and your Lord is dead.' "You lie," Asuka spat at the creature, for he could hardly be called a man, "And now you die!" Both figures moved at once. Asuka swung and ducked, feeling the razor edged Katana of his foe hiss over his head. He rolled and came back to his feet. The other Samuri looked over his shoulder, gave a feral leer and collapsed in a heap on the floor. Stepping over the bodies spilled in the corridor, Asuka yanked the sliding door leading to his Lord's chambers open. The air in the room was still. The Shogun's retainers lay sprawled around the noble Lord on the floor. He was too late. The six men who were the Shogun's bodyguards, had followed their lord in seppuku. They had given up hope, as well as their lives. Asuka stood amongst the bodies of the Warlord's invading forces and wept. The battered footsoldier was the sole surviving member of the Yamashida household, and with ea passing moment Asuka's lifeline grew shorter and shorter. Wiping his bloodied sword on the red robes of his fallen foe, he turned back to where his lord, Yamashida Shogun, now lay. And now, as the battle raged closer, Asuka's future was dark. What life was there for a soldier without honor? Wi his lord dead, he had no hope of ever becoming a true Samuri He was Ronin; a sword without a master, and a man without future. In the distance, the rumble of thunder echoed across the valley. Asuka's leg throbbed with pain and a wave of naus doubled him over. His head throbbed with the beating of his heart and the pain intensified. `Kill him.' Asuka clumsily turned. His stomach clenched and unclenched, bending him forward so he had to strain to see the speaker of the words. Flanked by a squad in full armou, and with weapons bared, the Warlord Singen Harada, strode triumphantly into the room. The Warlord was the antithesis of what it was to be a Samuri. He was a barrel-chested, swaggering, braggart; who face held a perpetual sneer and who had never felt the rain on his skin, or the snow at his back. Twelve red robed Samuri immediately circled Asuka, their crimson blades at the ready. With a nod from the Warlord the warriors raised their weapons and advanced. "Harada-san!" Asuka's gut clenched in pain and nausea; his weapons fell harmlessly to the floor. Tears welled in his eyes as he bowed his head to the floor and prayed to whatever spirits may be listening to make the pain end. "What do You want?" Harada's deep voice growled like that of some sinister forest creature. "I ask your forgiveness, with regard to this boy." The voice carried a strange accent that Asuka could not place and it was only with great difficulty that he raised his he from the sodden grass mat on the floor. Standing nose to nose with the Warlord was the strangest man Asuka had ever seen. Although clothed in the blood-red robes of the Warlord's army, he was undoubtedly a Gaijin. The man's skin was a deep, rich tan. His salt and pepper streaked hair was pulled back into a long topknot, secured with a bit of black cord and from his right ear hung a perfect white pearl, set in a clasp of shining yellow gold. Thrust into the stranger's belt rested the most magnificent sword Asuka had ever seen; its grip was a series of finely carved scenes and at the pommel, the rearing head of a dragon held his gaze. The Gaijin's arguments with the Warlord rose in volume, never losing their respect, but gaining in intensity. The stranger's eyes held the fire of one who did not fear the icy grip of death, but instead lived each day as if it were his last. "Harada-san, the boy knows nothing of his potential." The Gaijin took a step back and glared at the Warlord, oblivious to the Samuri who stood around him with their weapons bared, "If you do this, you dishonor not only me, but yourself as well. I ask you again, will you release the boy to me?" The Warlord considered the situation for a full minute before answering. By killing both the Gaijin and the boy would remove the problem entirely... But in killing the foreigner he would lose a valuable counselor and strategist a man who would prove rather difficult to replace at the moment. The warlord looked the Gaijin squarely in the eye before he spoke, "If that," he gestured vaguely in Asuka's direction, "Brings dishonor to my house or my name, both of your lives are forfeit." The Gaijin bowed respectfully, but not as fully as any other of the Warlord's counselors and stepped to Asuka's side. A smile crossed the man's lips as he grasped Asuka's arms with a grip of steel and pulled him to his feet. "We can do this the easy way, or the hard way. I am known as Juan Sanchez Villa-Lobos Ramirez; and if you wish to live you will do exactly as I tell you." Asuka glared at Ramirez and spat a bit of blood on the elder man's otherwise spotless robes, "I'll see you in hell." Ramirez looked at the stain on his robes and sighed, "The hard way then," and slammed his clenched fist into the youth's jaw. The former Footsoldier collapsed in a heap and Ramirez rubbed his fist. The other minions of the Warlord looked away from the counselor as his iron gaze met theirs. "Children should be seen and not heard," he commented no one in particular End of Part 2. ----------------------------------------------------------- =========================================================================