Cold Blood: Yamabuki vs. the Sword Master
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About this ebook
A samurai destined for greatness embarks on her first mission
In ancient Japan, a land of stunning beauty and unspeakable brutality, a warlord's only daughter -- Yamabuki -- trained since childhood as a samurai, must travel through realms controlled by rival factions on a mission known only to her father.
Veiled in the guise of an ordinary warrior, not even revealing that she is female, she crosses the water between two great isles, only to find the passengers are not who they seem. Some want her dead. Others want her because she's a woman. She must fight for her honor, her duty, and her clan. Blood will be spilled before it is over.
Katherine M. Lawrence
For several years, Katherine M. Lawrence has been researching and writing the adventures of Yamabuki, an actual historic female samurai who lived in the Heian Era of Japan. Inspired by several decades in the martial arts halls led by women -- Ja Shin Do, the San Jose State University Kendo Club, and Pai Lum White Lotus Fist-Crane style -- Katherine set out to write about the experiences of women who train in warriors skills...and Yamabuki in particular. Katherine graduated from the University of Washington with a BA degree in both History and Chemistry, and continued with work on a Masters in History at the Far Eastern and Slavic Institute. She also received an MBA from Harvard University.
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Cold Blood - Katherine M. Lawrence
This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this book are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
Cold Blood: Yamabuki vs. the Sword Master (Sword of the Taka Samurai Book One)
Copyright © 2014, 2015 Katherine M. Lawrence
All rights reserved.
Katherine M. Lawrence asserts her moral right to be identified as the author of this book.
Cover and interior design by Laura Scott
Copyright ©2014 Laura Scott and Toot Sweet Ink
All rights reserved.
Toot Sweet Ink
6525 Gunpark Drive Suite 370
Boulder, CO 80301
tootsweet.ink
Library of Congress Control Number: 2014958564
First Edition
ISBN: 978-0-9912667-1-5 (hardback)
ISBN: 978-0-9912667-2-2 (trade paper)
ISBN: 978-0-9912667-3-9 (EPUB ebook)
R. 1.2.1
To LS
Table of Contents
Prologue
One: Blue Rice
Two: Wolves Recognizing Wolves
Three: The One-Eyed Daimyō of Ten-Legged Things
Four: Full Moon Tide
Five: The Boyish Face Behind the Mask
Six: Raw Courage
Seven: In the Battlefield or in Dancing; A Master of Movement
Eight: Someone of the Sex of Her Choosing
Nine: Fat Satchels of Coins
Ten: The Ōuchi Samurai
Eleven: No Reason to Conceal Herself
Twelve: Are My Teeth Black?
Thirteen: We Shall Fight With Sticks
Fourteen: What Lord Do You Serve?
Fifteen: Who Will Say the Sutras?
Sixteen: It’s a Long Road, Lady Taka
Seventeen: To Win, You Have to Kill Us Both
Eighteen: I’ve Never lost a Duel
Nineteen: A Decision You Won’t Live to Regret
Twenty: There Will Be No Second Chance
Characters
Glossary
Japanese Years, Seasons, and Time
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Excerpt from Cold Rain
Excerpt from Cold Saké
About Toot Sweet Ink
Books by Katherine M. Lawrence
Landmarks
Copyright Page
Title Page
Table of Contents
Glossary
Appendix
Acknowledgments
Appendix
Body Matter
Long before it was called Japan,
the island empire was known
to the world as Akitsushima,
the Autumn Creek Land,
and among its samurai,
one of its mightiest warriors was
a woman named Yamabuki.
Spring 1172:
Known as Year of the Water Dragon,
Second Year of Shōan,
eight years prior to the Genpei War
and the ensuing struggle
for the mastery of Japan
that tore the realm apart
and ushered in the era of the warlords.
One:
Blue Rice
4 bell strikes
First quarter, Hour of the Snake
Full Moon of New Life Month
The Kanmon Strait
In pristine battle armor, traveling without her personal guards or handmaids, not wearing any insignia that revealed her exact rank, Yamabuki at last stood in her own right on the promontory that looked north across the Barrier Strait. The rising sun burned so bright that the heavens scarcely looked blue. Shimmering light shone all the way across the vast Windward Sea which flowed off the edge of the world at the eastern horizon.
A moist westerly breeze caressed the warrior’s young face, leaving the slightest taste of brine on her lips and the fresh scent of fish and kelp in her nostrils.
Mochizuki, her jet-black two-year-old colt, snorted his displeasure.
I know you don’t like the wind,
she whispered, reaching up to stroke his mane with one hand while tightening her grip on his bridle with the other. His hot wet breath blew across her hand. As with all horses, his hearing was keen and he grew fretful when anything impeded it.
She wondered to what extent his disquiet had infected her. Ever since crossing into Chikuzen Province two days before, her mount had grown increasingly temperamental—possibly because the North Road from Mizuki to Kita had teemed with people, horses, carts, wagons, and livestock. Disguised as a common samurai, more or less blending into the throng, Yamabuki trusted that she had escaped notice. However, if someone was shadowing her, it would have been easy enough for them to meld in as well.
This morning she dismissed her earlier apprehensions as mere fancy and instead looked ahead. She strained to make out the opposite shore through the thin, lingering haze, which washed out the details of the Main Isle of Honshu, her destination.
A voice startled her. ‘Better to cross the strait as the sun rises than as she sets.’ At least that’s how the commoners put it.
The voice belonged to a man who not only had the temerity to interject himself into a nonexistent conversation with her, but even had the impertinence to approach her along her horse’s opposite flank, the samurai’s blindside.
Since Mochizuki stood between her and the stranger, at first all she could see was the man’s muddy sandals and loose-fitting cotton trousers, blue-on-white, with the ine rice plant pattern.
She immediately stepped around her mount, her left hand near, but not exactly on, her sword hilt. Her eyes met the stranger’s.
He’s not even armed, let alone warrior class.
He had a ruddy face. Handsome in a rugged way. A bit older than she. Kindly bloodshot eyes which were happy and sad all at the same time.
Odd. A rich man’s sandals, but a commoner’s tunic.
As he grinned, his eyes smiled. He may have noticed her sword hand. I was just behind you on the road all the way up from Kita. Wasn’t following,
he assured. Just going to the trailhead.
He cast his gaze toward Honshu. Boatmen call this place Dragon’s Throat. It’s the shortest distance between the Great Isles. The two seas somehow know it, too, and so they rush through the channel. In the end, the shortest distance to land has the strongest currents.
She moved her hand away from her weapon.
He tossed a wrist in a casual gesture toward the north eastern horizon. Beautiful morning for it though. We are both crossing the barrier, no?
Resolute, she looked across the turbid expanse. Seemingly lost in the idea of crossing, finally she answered softly, almost to herself, I haven’t traveled for ten days and nights for just a view.
Ha-ha!
he laughed, respectfully looking her up and down. White crossed arrow-feather insignia on indigo. You are of the Taka clan from Great Bay Province . . . from the southeastern tip, yes?
As far from here as it is possible to be, yet still be on the same isle.
"Hai, but not for long. His eyes narrowed.
Hear that?" He tilted his head, his ear toward the sea.
She found that for the moment she could hear nothing more than the hum of a steady wind mingling with the soft pulse of the sea and the occasional screeches of wheeling gulls. Since her battle helmet concealed her hair gathered up under its steel crown, if she removed her kabuto to improve her hearing, her long locks would be released and everyone would immediately see that she was a female, and a young one at that. But then, a moment later, shouts drifted up from the water below.
The man beckoned her to the sea cliff’s edge. "My