such as we."
Yoritomo grunted before he spoke. "It is not such a poor thing this Willow Song . It was made by a master sword smith, Sanjo Kokaji. It is a treasure sword worth more than you and your barbarian could earn selling your swords in all your lives, even if you had three of them...
He looked at the other stack of weapons taken from the dead Taira, then cut his eyes to Yoshiko. "I would not believe that common ronin such as yourself and your barbarian companion could have taken such trophies, except that the Lady Yoshiko has told me of your fighting skills. Therefore, I naturally accept all that she has said of you to be true, for she is a lady of great honor and purity whom I cherish highly. You have earned our gratitude. I accept Willow Song ."
With that he clenched his jaws tightly, returning his face to its permanent scowl.
Kujo took over the conversation again. "Our master feels you have done well in your service to the Lady Yoshiko and to him. He wishes to know what you wish that he may reward you with for your services?"
Muramasa did not hesitate to speak for both of them. Casca was glad of it. He did not want to have any more conversation with the dour and dangerous master of the Minamoto than he had to. The man was a stone killer and his brother, Yeshitsune, didn't look any better. "Lord Yoritomo-sama, we beg only to be permitted to enter your service for the glory of your name and family. That and nothing more is a greater reward than such as we could hope for."
Yoritomo said nothing. His eye was on the sheathed Well Drinker . "Remove the blade from its sheath," he commanded.
Nearly swallowing his tongue, Muramasa did as he was ordered. Taking Well Drinker into the flat of both of his palms, he lowered and extended his arms in the direction of Yoritomo. It was a great honor for him to be permitted to bare a weapon in the presence of the master.
Yoritomo did not take the sword into his hands, only looked at it from his dais. He knew great art when he saw it, but there was something about the katana that made him keep his hands to himself. Carefully he ran his eyes over it and knew the weapon was perfectly balanced and the steel in the blade as fine as any he had ever seen, better even than Willow Song , perhaps even as great as the legendary sword of his ancestor, Yasutsuna, called Dojo-kiri , the Monster-cutter . But it was now in the hands of the hated Taira who insulted the Minamoto every day that it was in their possession.
Yeshitsune did not have the same qualms as his older half -brother. He, too, recognized Well Drinker as being something very special, and as some men do for a woman or gold, he lusted after the blade. It was with difficulty he kept the lust from showing. He also felt something in the shining, glowing steel, something that drew him to it.
Lowering his eyelids, Yoritomo carefully re-examined the two men before him. There was something about them, as there was about the sword held in the ronin's outstretched hands. He had not come this far without being able to sense things that were unsaid and often unseen. These two would be of value to him, somewhere, sometime. That he was certain of. "Place your katana back into its house for now, Muramasa-san. You will have need of it later. May I ask if it has a name yet?" Yoritomo inquired almost politely.
"Ah yes, thank you, Yoritomo -sama. The blade is called Well Drinker ."
At that, Yoritomo insisted he tell of how the sword came by its name.
Reluctantly, but with pride, Muramasa told of killing the two by the spring of his father after the forging of the blade and of the excellence of the first cut the sword had made.
Yoritomo asked Casca if he had witnessed this act. Casca bowed his head acknowledging that it was so.
Yoshiko coughed delicately behind her painted fan. Yoritomo turned his attention to her. "You wish to say something, Lady Yoshiko-san?"
Nodding her head prettily, she spoke. "Thank you, my lord. I wish only to add
Yoritomo grunted before he spoke. "It is not such a poor thing this Willow Song . It was made by a master sword smith, Sanjo Kokaji. It is a treasure sword worth more than you and your barbarian could earn selling your swords in all your lives, even if you had three of them...
He looked at the other stack of weapons taken from the dead Taira, then cut his eyes to Yoshiko. "I would not believe that common ronin such as yourself and your barbarian companion could have taken such trophies, except that the Lady Yoshiko has told me of your fighting skills. Therefore, I naturally accept all that she has said of you to be true, for she is a lady of great honor and purity whom I cherish highly. You have earned our gratitude. I accept Willow Song ."
With that he clenched his jaws tightly, returning his face to its permanent scowl.
Kujo took over the conversation again. "Our master feels you have done well in your service to the Lady Yoshiko and to him. He wishes to know what you wish that he may reward you with for your services?"
Muramasa did not hesitate to speak for both of them. Casca was glad of it. He did not want to have any more conversation with the dour and dangerous master of the Minamoto than he had to. The man was a stone killer and his brother, Yeshitsune, didn't look any better. "Lord Yoritomo-sama, we beg only to be permitted to enter your service for the glory of your name and family. That and nothing more is a greater reward than such as we could hope for."
Yoritomo said nothing. His eye was on the sheathed Well Drinker . "Remove the blade from its sheath," he commanded.
Nearly swallowing his tongue, Muramasa did as he was ordered. Taking Well Drinker into the flat of both of his palms, he lowered and extended his arms in the direction of Yoritomo. It was a great honor for him to be permitted to bare a weapon in the presence of the master.
Yoritomo did not take the sword into his hands, only looked at it from his dais. He knew great art when he saw it, but there was something about the katana that made him keep his hands to himself. Carefully he ran his eyes over it and knew the weapon was perfectly balanced and the steel in the blade as fine as any he had ever seen, better even than Willow Song , perhaps even as great as the legendary sword of his ancestor, Yasutsuna, called Dojo-kiri , the Monster-cutter . But it was now in the hands of the hated Taira who insulted the Minamoto every day that it was in their possession.
Yeshitsune did not have the same qualms as his older half -brother. He, too, recognized Well Drinker as being something very special, and as some men do for a woman or gold, he lusted after the blade. It was with difficulty he kept the lust from showing. He also felt something in the shining, glowing steel, something that drew him to it.
Lowering his eyelids, Yoritomo carefully re-examined the two men before him. There was something about them, as there was about the sword held in the ronin's outstretched hands. He had not come this far without being able to sense things that were unsaid and often unseen. These two would be of value to him, somewhere, sometime. That he was certain of. "Place your katana back into its house for now, Muramasa-san. You will have need of it later. May I ask if it has a name yet?" Yoritomo inquired almost politely.
"Ah yes, thank you, Yoritomo -sama. The blade is called Well Drinker ."
At that, Yoritomo insisted he tell of how the sword came by its name.
Reluctantly, but with pride, Muramasa told of killing the two by the spring of his father after the forging of the blade and of the excellence of the first cut the sword had made.
Yoritomo asked Casca if he had witnessed this act. Casca bowed his head acknowledging that it was so.
Yoshiko coughed delicately behind her painted fan. Yoritomo turned his attention to her. "You wish to say something, Lady Yoshiko-san?"
Nodding her head prettily, she spoke. "Thank you, my lord. I wish only to add
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