A Chance Meeting
 
by Loren Dean

Naoki felt it before he heard it. A thump that sent tremblors through the ground, and made his gelding stamp nervously. His attention attracted, he could hear voices now — one inhumanly deep, one defiantly shrill.

Then Naoki and his companions rounded the bend and saw the Ogre.

It was half again the size of a man, with wild eyes, a patchwork of armor taken from probably a dozen or more victims, and a long club as wide as a man's thigh. It was wielding its club against a young samurai, who held his own katana in an unusual and weaving one-handed grip. As Naoki watched, the Ogre swung its club in a mighty overhead arc, missing the samurai by inches. The samurai in turn ran up the club, slashed the ogre's face, and jumped off into a defensive stance in one fluid motion. The Ogre dropped its club, howling in agony, and drew a pitted no-dachi from its belt as it blew bloody snot at its opponent.

Naoki jumped from his horse and bellowed his battle-cry as he charged. The horse would have given him a better vantage, he knew, but it was an untested horse, and right now he was more inclined to trust his own footing. Jinjiro and Takehai charged past him on their own mounts, which was good. They would distract the Ogre, allowing Naoki a better angle of attack.

Jinjiro's sword flashed from its saya, flicking toward the Ogre, who seemed not to notice as the blade scraped across its moldered backplate. Intent on its prior target, the samurai who had cut it, the Ogre's sword whistled through the air into the samurai's shoulder. The young swordsman screamed and fell, bleeding heavily.

Takehai inhaled deeply, and blew a stream of fire at the Ogre. He had misjudged the range, however, and the flame dispersed before it reached the thing. It was enough, however, to get the Ogre's attention, and the beast charged after Takehai. Its turn took it out of Naoki's reach, and he cursed as his katana went wide.

From behind him, Marako's arrow sang through the air, driving deeply into the Ogre's thigh. The thing staggered, its head whipping wildly about, trying to ascertain the number of new opponents it faced. Jinjiro wheeled, and this time his blade carved a line across the Ogre's shoulder.

The Ogre was off balance, and Naoki saw his opening. Reversing his blade, he ran full tilt into the Ogre's back, planting his shoulder firmly in the Ogre's kidneys. The force drove the Ogre forward and onto one knee, and now Naoki's sword came up from behind him and down into the Ogre's back, sinking to the hilt into the beast. Holding the katana steady, he let the Ogre's own weight carry its now limp carcass off the blade and to the ground.

Breathing deeply, Naoki surveyed his companions, noting that they were unhurt, and Ishi and Marako were already seeing to the fallen swordsman. With a farewell stream of spittle for the Ogre, Naoki began wiping his blade clean.