The two men slowly walking across the battle field were very much opposites. One was tall, for a Nipponese, heavily muscled, yet graceful; the epitome of the Samurai warrior. The second man appeared to be a peasant. He was short and strong, but he lacked the grace of movement that marked those born to the warrior class of Nippon. Their dress also served to separate them. The Samurai's colorful, but functional, laquered armor was in sharp contrast to the other's faded, grey kimono. Despite what appeared to be a wide gulf of class between these two newly acquainted men, they had become the best of freinds.
After a companionable pause in their conversation, the shorter man gave a sad sigh and turned to face a thick stand of bamboo some half a hundred paces away. He said "I am truly sorry my friend but here we must go our separate ways." For a brief instant the Samurai seemed startled, almost scared, then a look of peaceful acceptance stole over his countenance. Just then an arrow flew from the bamboo and pierced the samurai through a chink in his armor.
The short man said "You must know before you die..."
The Samurai, with his dying breath, interupted "I have known your nature for some time, my friend. How could I not; I who have seen Death so many times?"
Copyright 1997 by Andrew M. Salamon