Takuro staggered slightly as he walked out of the sake house, wincing at the bright light of the morning sun. His two comrades laughed as they spilled out on either side, similarly unsteady from the previous evening’s entertainments. Takuro glanced about him with an arrogant sneer. He and his brothers had arrived in this village almost a week ago. This place was unaccusiomed to being visited by samurai; the peasants here were weak and afrais. They had offered food and lodging with qulet terror, asking for nothing in return, clearly petrified by the two swords at his hip. Takuro and his brothers had decided that they liked it here; this village was theirs now. As he looked around, however, he realized that something was different. The peasants all huddled at the edges of the open square begore the sake house. They watched quietly, waiting. There was still fear in their eyes, but it was different somehow. [download]
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