March 08, 2010

Flight of the Warrior- 7

Black heart on a black horse

He rode a black horse, given to him for his bravery during the war.

He had been a samurai in the cavalry, skilled in both yabusame and the sword. He was one of the few who could ride and shoot a bow, then jump from his horse and fight hand to hand or with his katana. They called him the shourisha because his arrival to the battlefield, no matter how hopeless it was, meant a victory for his side. He seemed to wield some sort of magic.

He was a tall man, over six feet, with large muscular shoulders. He was unlike the other samurai who were shorter, but he had their quickness. And he was a ronin, he answered to no-one. He fought in battle for the sheer glory of killing. Because of his status he was able to move from place to place and no daimyo ever refused him food or shelter.

He was returning from collecting a fee for his services during the war. He had demanded the overlord's daughter together with the fee. She was very pretty, but she was weak and acquiesced to him all too easily. She had cried and begged for mercy. He left her very early in the night, not even desiring her more than the once. In fact he could not even be bothered to kill the wretch. She would probably do that herself anyway.

He wanted the one who fought him, the one who resisted. His toraneko.

So he had left the overlord's home in the late hours of the night and took to his black horse. He could have flown, but he needed time to decide what he would do to her. He needed a plan.

She had come into his life by accident. He had been flying on a beautiful night, lit by the moon. He could smell jasmine on the wind. He turned and traced the fragrance through the air. He saw her immediately, standing on the ground. She appeared to be sprinting and taking off, then landing and repeating the movement like a drill. He decided to watch her for a while.

Peasant girls almost never appealed to him. They had little to offer a man of his class. But this one seemed different, and it was only when she flew closer to him did he realise. She was a
takokujin.

So when he flew straight at her, knocking her to the ground, he had acted out of opportunity. And he had not been disappointed.

She was fiery, she fought him every moment. In fact, she had gotten away from him when he had planned to keep her for a little while. Flying that night and seeing her had been a happy co-incidence. To make the experience even more beguiling, he discovered she had been wearing a light nightdress under her traveling robes. She had refused to answer him when he asked her why, she had held up her chin and bit down on her lip.

He felt that she had been put there in that moment just for him. A present from Hachiman, the god of war.

As he rode towards her hut, he wondered exactly what it was that he wanted to do. He most certainly did not want to kill her, at least not yet. So he must not get carried away. It was an inspired moment when he had cursed her and he had felt the benefits of his work already. She had clearly been touched by another man. He was connected to her in that way now. Her pain was his pleasure.

So perhaps he would go to her hut, stay the night and see what happened. The idea of a whole night with her wreathing beneath his body filled him with a wild feeling. He burned for her.

He spurred on the black horse, pushing the beast through the night and well into the next day.

He arrived at her hut, and was about to dismount when he felt the approach of another man. He pulled his horse behind a tree and watched as the man came to the door of the hut. The hair stood up on the back of his neck. He resisted the urge to fly out and cut the man's head cleanly from his shoulders with his katana. He noticed the frame of the man, he was his equal in height and build and he wore a short and long sword. Most certainly a soldier. Better to stay hidden and see what happened. He could always take care of him later.

The man knocked on the door, stood for a moment and then slowly exhaled letting his forehead rest against the heavy wood. He heard him utter, "Gone." Studying this man he realised he was the suitor. He must be, why else would he be so disappointed she was gone?

And before he could remove his sword to take care of it, the man was gone. In fact he did not even see where he went. In a moment of panic he spun around trying to figure out what had happened. Was this some sort of trick? Was this an ambush?

Minutes passed and he was still not sure what had occurred. He was certain of one thing, if he should cross paths with this man again, he would use the upmost caution.

He decided to head toward the village. He would see if anyone knew her whereabouts, and perhaps he would take a local girl to ease his passion. The nobility in this area where known for their hospitality. He would avail himself of what they could offer.

And then he would find her, and make her pay for fleeing. She must learn that he was the master of her now- the
shourisha.

He sent a message on the wind I summon you.

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