Blade of Honour

By Sandy Paull

Hollie Sanders is handed a letter at her grandfather's funeral, advising her of a family secret.
She is now the owner of a priceless Samurai sword. 

Within days, she escapes a brutal knife attack, and is scarred for life.

Time passes, and her life comes under threat again. It seems malevolent eyes are still on the blade.

Ownership of the heirloom means protect it, or die trying, and she won't entertain the latter.

Hollie wants to live a peaceful life, but can she survive the past coming back to haunt her, and keep the sword from falling into the wrong hands?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Sandy Paull
• Release date: Jul 12, 2017
• ISBN: 9780994227874

Book preview

CHAPTER 1

Hollie Sanders stood drenched from head to toe with her fair hair hanging in straggled sections over her shoulders. She had stayed put during the last shower of rain. Water droplets blended with her tears and trickled down her mildly-tanned complexion. She hadn’t bothered with make-up today. There wouldn’t have been any point. Her ebony coloured dress clung sopping to the contours of her slim figure, and water streamed into her closed-in shoes. The weather had eased for the moment, and Hollie didn’t want to leave her grandfather’s side. He was alone in his muddy grave, probably wondering where he was, and if he would be coming home soon.

For Pete’s sake, Hollie, will you let him go? He isn’t going to rise again. By all accounts, he should have died months ago.

Hollie clenched her fists. I’m paying my respects, Dan, which is more than I can say for you. Her fiancé, Daniel Menzies, who had been in charge of holding their umbrella, had joined the other mourners when the rain had come teeming down, and left Hollie standing in the rain without any cover.

He didn’t like me anyway, Dan yelled, picking his way through the sodden ground, and he never remembered my name.

He had dementia!

His thin lips narrowed and practically became non-existent when he seethed in anger. Don’t raise your voice to me, or I will make a scene.

She boiled on the inside. Give me five more minutes, please.

He scoffed, and glanced at the surrounding headstones. I hate cemeteries.

Hollie exhaled slowly, and muttered quietly to the dark grained timber coffin that was now covered with smatterings of wet dirt. What am I going to do with him, granddad? He has the compassion of a doormat.

A man strode towards the gathering huddled beneath the small shelter nearby. A moment later, several fingers pointed towards the graveside. He tipped his broad-brimmed hat and continued further.

Hollie Sanders? he said, when he was a few metres away.

Hollie wiped her eyes, and pushed a few strands of hair behind her ears. Yes? She looked the man up and down, and wished Dan could have worn a suit and tie instead of a casual pair of jeans and a tatty chequered shirt.

My name is John Cockney. I am, or should I say, was Thomas’ solicitor. He shook her hand, and wiped it dry before handing her a letter. Thomas asked me to give you this on the day of his funeral. He said you should open it in private, the lines on his face deepened around his mouth, and crinkled at his eyes, along with a bottle of red.

Dan was at her side in seconds, and towered over them. His pale features were stained crimson. What’s this ‘in private’ shit?

It was her grandfather’s request.

Of course it was. He was against me from the start, and would do anything to put a rift between us.

Hollie held up her hand. Please, Dan, not now.

And why not now? It’s time to move on, Hollie. I’ve been on the back-burner long enough, and I don’t have to compete with him anymore.

Her chin quivered, and she responded softly. There was never any competition.

Yes, there was. It was always about him.

I was his carer, and you knew what to expect when we moved here. As I recall, you were quite happy to have free board.

Until I saw where he lived. Two star accommodation isn’t my style. He turned to the solicitor, and held the man’s aging stare. Have you seen the hovel we live in? It’s the smallest three bedroom house known to God. It has sunken floors, a leaking roof, and no central heating.

Hollie bristled, and shoved the letter in her handbag. If it’s that bad, then you should be grateful for a job that takes you away every week.

Dan leaned closer. The point I’m trying to make, Hollie, is that it’s time I got some TLC in more comfortable surroundings.

John Cockney’s cheeks reddened, and he cleared his throat. I’m not here to start a domestic, he said, retrieving a business card from his pocket, but if there’s anything I can do for you in the future, Ms Sanders, don’t hesitate to call.

Thank you, she said quietly, reading his credentials.

He tipped his hat, and crossed the cemetery lawn without a backward glance or worrying about the condition of his dress shoes sloshing through the water and mud.

Hollie stared at her grandfather’s coffin. It had begun to sprinkle again. I should go now.

Thank Christ for that, Dan said, hoisting the umbrella for his height and not Hollie’s. And while we’re getting a few things off our chests, I think it’s time we talked about selling the house, or getting it demolished, whichever will get the most money. Thomas signed the deeds over to you a year ago, and now we can do whatever we like with it. It will be good to get a place that doesn’t smell like him. Maybe we should move to the coast.

She followed Dan in silence, and noticed two men, one taller than the other, arguing a short distance away. They both had olive complexion, were balding on top, and had thick moustaches. She didn’t recognise them from her grandfather’s circle of friends, nor could she understand their language. The tone of the smaller man’s voice didn’t invite company, and she felt sorry for the taller man standing rigidly beside him. Hollie thought it best to leave them be. She had enough problems of her own to deal with at the moment, and they all stemmed from her fiancé being so unreasonable.

Dan had changed over the four years they had been together, especially since moving to Westmere to care for her grandfather. Dan had taken to drinking and gambling on more than a regular basis, and his easy-going attitude had taken flight. For him, today was a celebration – her grandfather was dead and buried, and he seemed to be going out of his way to be unfriendly towards Hollie and their guests. Two stubbies of beer before the funeral wouldn’t have helped matters, and there was still more to be had at the wake. Hollie would have preferred something quiet at home, but had been too upset at the time to argue Dan’s decision to have the wake at Murphy’s Tavern, his favourite drinking hole.

The weather had set in by the time everyone arrived at the venue, and it was clear to see that Thomas’ friends weren’t impressed with their dry surroundings. Or maybe it was just because Dan was there. Hollie made a point of speaking to everyone in person, and wished someone would gag Dan. Apparently the poker machines weren’t being obliging today, and he was drawing unwanted attention upon himself. As soon as the formalities were over, Hollie thanked everyone for coming, and drove Dan home.

I’m going to have a shower, he growled, stumbling to the bathroom, and slamming the door.

Hollie sighed, and poured herself a glass of red. She brushed her fingers over the handwritten envelope John Cockney had given her, and sat in her grandfather’s rocking chair. She had kept the letter in her handbag the whole time, and refused to open it in Dan’s presence, much to his disgust.

The sight of her grandfather’s handwriting was enough to make her weep, and it was hard to think he would never sit in this room again. She held a tissue to her nose, and started reading.

My dearest Hollie,

I thought I had better write this letter before I couldn’t. It’s a bugger getting old. You are the bravest girl I know, and you gave up so much to come back and live with me; your work, your life, and I can’t thank you enough. Your parents would have been proud of you. God bless them. I only hope I don’t get too angry or become too much of a burden later on when my brain well and truly goes on the blink. And I hope that fiancé of yours doesn’t shove me in a nursing home. He’s not right for you, Hollie, and you know it.

My guess is that you’re sitting in my rocking chair, and facing the window. It was our favourite place. Look to your left. You always wondered why the wall behind the wardrobe jutted out, and now I can tell you. I know I should have done it earlier, but I didn’t want to worry you. When you are home alone, look inside the grille at the bottom corner of the wall. The grille was never for heating. It was for hiding a secret, and you can’t tell anyone about it, not even Dan. I made the mistake of confiding in someone, and have regretted it ever since. Be wary of strangers coming to your door, and don’t trust anyone. I know this is a big ask, but you have to be strong. Don’t let anyone take this from you, Hollie. I can’t stress that enough.

I know you’re going to have a lot of questions, just as I did, and maybe one day history will reveal itself, as will the future. You’re the last of our line, my little blossom, and the onus falls on you to do the right thing.

Please, take care.

Love, granddad.

Hollie’s hands were shaking, and her emotions were mixed. Questions were popping into her head at a rapid pace, and she was stunned. This note wasn’t what she had expected. It was fraught with responsibility and possible danger. She gulped the rest of the wine and blinked repeatedly to clear her eyes, still not comprehending his written words. And why did her grandfather think she was brave?

The floorboards creaked in the hallway, and she quickly shoved the letter down the front of her shirt.

You’re not still crying for the old bugger, are you? Dan asked, walking into the room, wearing only a wet towel. He massaged her shoulders from behind, and spoke in a seductive tone. Why don’t you come to bed, and let me take your mind off him? I almost forget what you feel like.

She squeezed her eyes tight. No thanks. I’m not in the mood.

His tone changed instantly. You’re never in the mood. He pushed the chair and made her topple forward. Whenever you are, I have to put up with dancing around all your colourful bruises. You’ve been doing karate for nearly four years, and if you still haven’t learnt how to dodge a punch, then you obviously don’t have what it takes. Find a new sport, Hollie. Take up tennis. It will be less stress on the both of us.

I’m not giving up karate, she said, wiping her cheeks, and clutching the wine glass to her chest. You have no idea what I am capable of, and I don’t like tennis. Her eyes glistened. And I don’t like the way you’ve been talking to me. I’m sick of you putting me down all the time. You’ve changed since we became engaged. You were never like this.

Maybe this is the real me. And yes, I’ve changed for the better. I’m seeing things differently these days, and it’s about time you realised who’s boss around here. It’s been nauseating to watch you fuss about and be the doting granddaughter.

Thomas was my family. I wanted to be there for him. You could be in the same boat one day, so be careful what you say.

Once we’re married, you’ll be there for me. To love and to hold, for better or for worse. You need me, Hollie, and we’re never going to get back the last twelve months, no make that two years. Our sex life could use a revamp. It was a mistake to leave Barridon. We were happy there. We need to make a fresh start.

She gaped into his hazel eyes, and didn’t recognise the man she had once loved. Where the hell has all that come from?

In here, he said, thumping his chest. It’s been bottled up for ages.

Well, two can play that game. I’m not going to be your doormat, Daniel Menzies, and I’ve had other duties which I considered more important than baby-sitting you. You’ll be thirty-seven soon, and it’s about time you started acting like an adult. You should also be ashamed of your antics this afternoon. If you don’t like losing your money, then don’t play those stupid machines.

He glared in return. It’s all your fault that I lost. You and your snake eyes put me off my game.

What rot! I wasn’t anywhere near you, and I didn’t put those damn bottles of beer to your mouth either. Her chest heaved, and she wished she had the guts to flatten his big nose. I am sick of apologising for things I haven’t done. You want a fresh start, then fine. Tomorrow will be a new day for the both of us. Tears spilled onto her cheeks, and she ran from the room. Her grandfather’s letter had given her a spot of courage, and it felt good to finally have her say.

The next few days passed quietly with hardly any interaction between them. Dan had moped around most of the time, and Hollie had refused to be suckered in by his puppy-dog expression. Her feelings had been hurt concerning the old house. She set about cleaning the walls as best she could without stripping the paint away, and refused to believe it was a hovel. Dan had always tried to make it look like a rubbish tip, but she wasn’t letting him get away with it anymore.

She had prided herself on having a place for everything, and only of late had bought two vases of ornamental flowers to brighten up the lounge room and kitchen. She had even splashed out and replaced the mat beneath her grandfather’s rocking chair. Dan had said it was a waste of money and that the old chair should be used for firewood, but the chair belonged in her family, and she wasn’t parting with it for no man.

Monday rolled around, and when Dan announced he was going on a road trip, Hollie contained her excitement. She hadn’t had a moment alone since the funeral, and even after Dan had driven down the street, she waited several more hours before attacking the grille with a screwdriver. She didn’t want him coming back home, catching her in the act of unveiling a possible treasure. She remembered her grandfather telling stories about how his father used to fossick for gemstones, and wondered if her ancestor had struck it rich. But surely a precious rock wouldn’t cause this much concern? And why didn’t her grandfather cash one in and renovate the old house? It could have done with a makeover ten years ago.

She shone the torch inside the wall, and saw an old blue blanket. She eased it out, and found the object far more substantial and longer than anticipated. Her thoughts about gemstones went out the window. She unwrapped the blanket that was worn through in several places, and revealed a long, plain wooden box. She lifted the lid, and gaped in disbelief. A sword, granddad? she said, sitting still. She stared at the cushioning of faded red silk, and the roll of paper tied with a piece of brown twine. Where the hell would you have gotten a sword? She pulled the sword from its casing, and felt totally out of her depth. It was surprisingly heavy. She didn’t know anything about swords. Her stomach churned. She set everything down on the floor, except for the scroll, and untied the twine. The paper was discoloured and crinkled at the edges, and she was amazed to see a neatly written letter.

To whom it may concern…

In your possession is a katana: a fourteenth-century samurai sword from the Muromachi period, traditionally made in feudal Japan. This sword was bestowed upon me by my father, and will hopefully remain in our family through the generations that follow. The amount of blood that has been smeared upon this blade is unknown, but I can tell you that it was secured with honour. To our family, this sword is priceless, a symbol of wealth in all aspects of life. It is not to be surrendered at any cost, especially to an adversary, without the loss of one’s own life. Many have fought to acquire this blade, and many have failed. Maintain this katana and guard it well, for this is where your destiny lies.

May your God be with you.

Horatio Sanders IV

July 22nd, 1798

The mention of the loss of one’s life, and the date of the script, sent Hollie’s breakfast on an upward spiral. She fanned her face and took several deep breaths to calm herself down. This can’t be good, she said, speaking as if her grandfather was there with her. What the hell did our ancestor do? You told me that no-one in our family travelled anywhere, her eyes misted when she thought of her parents on that doomed flight to India, but you were obviously wrong, granddad. I mean, how would a person get a sword like this without going to Japan? And to have this letter dated back to 1798… She covered her mouth. I don’t want to die trying to protect a sword! I can’t even use one. I can’t even win a fight with Dan, let alone fight off an enemy, which is who by the way? She shook her head, and her thoughts spun out of control. I can see why you sat in here, day in and day out. You were too afraid to leave the safety of your own home.

The doorbell chimed.

Oh, God… shit, someone’s at the door! Alarm bells rang as she quickly shoved everything beneath the single bed and pulled the doona cover further to the floor. Just a minute, she yelled, hoping to sound relatively normal. She closed the door, and wondered if she should grab her cricket bat for protection. Her grandfather had said to trust no-one, and she knew how to swing a bat better. Every Australian had played backyard cricket at some stage in their life, and hitting fours had been her specialty. She detoured to her bedroom before going out front.

Her visitor wore a grey suit and a Fedora hat, and was rocking back and forth on his highly polished shoes. Hollie leant the bat against the wall, and caught him biting his fingernails. Can I help you?

Oh, hello, he said, removing his hat, and revealing a balding skull. My name is Stefan da Costa. I own ‘Remarkable Antiques’. It’s a little shop in town that’s bursting at the seams with traditional and historical items, and everything else in between. Do you know it?

Um, no, sorry… I don’t.

His smile faded, and he began fidgeting with the brim of his hat. Oh, well, not to worry. Your grandfather came to see me a while ago. I’ve come to pay my respects, and to offer my services with...

She interrupted him. You were at the funeral with a shorter man.

His olive complexion turned crimson. Oh, you saw us. Pity. Yes, my brother came with me. I hope this isn’t a bad time, and I don’t wish to come across as pushy or uncompassionate, but you see, I love old things, and am willing to pay handsomely for what your grandfather has left behind, he frowned when she frowned, or am I too late?

The thought of blatantly lying sent Hollie into a nervous sweat, and she had to think fast. Granddad had a lot of knick-knacks, but if you’ve come to make an offer on his old writing desk, then I’m sorry, it’s not for sale.

No, no, that’s fine. I’m not here about a desk. He dabbed his forehead with a handkerchief. Thomas once showed me a sword, a samurai sword to be precise, and it was very old, as you could imagine. He kept it in a long box about this big, he gestured the width of the doorway, but the box won’t be much to look at. The boxes never were. The sword is the work of art, and the most valuable. The thing is, I would really like to have first dibs on it, if possible. A sword like that doesn’t come along very often, and it would attract many buyers to my store. A collector’s dream come true, if you know what I mean.

The outside temperature wasn’t hot at all, but it seemed Stefan da Costa was perspiring as much as she was. She cast a quick glance towards the man in the passenger seat of the car waiting outside, and recognised him from the other day. Her pulse increased, and just for once she wished Dan was home for added security.

She shook her head, and cleared her throat. My grandfather wasn’t a collector, nor a traveller, Mr Da Costa. He liked books. His mind was muddled in the end, and he used to just sit there and stare. I’m sorry, but it’s too soon… She put a hand to her mouth, and left her sentence unfinished.

Oh, dear, I didn’t mean to upset you, he said, folding his handkerchief, and placing it in his pocket. Did he by chance leave a letter? I saw one being given to you the other day, and thought it might be of significance to this matter.

Tears trickled down her cheeks, and she caught a sob. It was a heart-wrenching letter. And that was the truth.

Stefan sent a brief glance over his shoulder, and shifted uneasily. Goodness me. Please don’t cry. He produced a business card from his coat pocket. I’m terribly sorry for the intrusion. If you do find something out of the ordinary, could you please call me? It would mean a great deal to me.

Her heart was hammering, and her insides felt like mush. She wasn’t sure whether fear had made her cry or speaking about her grandfather, but it didn’t matter. She nodded goodbye, and for the second time in less than an hour, felt like throwing up.

She peered through the curtains, and narrowed her gaze towards Stefan’s passenger. The man was waving his fist and ranting again. She locked the front door, and carried her bat to the spare room. She had only just found out about the sword, and her nerves were a mess already.

How did you do it, granddad? she said, replacing the sword, and wrapping the blanket around the box. I can’t stop shaking. She shoved it back behind the grille, and sat with her feet up in the rocking chair. Am I going to be house-bound like you? She rested her head on her knees. The future didn’t look promising at all.

CHAPTER 2

Hollie always took the twenty-minute scenic route to karate training. She would rather see the surrounding bushland than tackle the traffic travelling cautiously through town at dusk. It was a time to clear her thoughts, and recite positive affirmations. She liked going to karate, and if one particular person would leave town, she would enjoy it a whole lot better.

The dojo was an old brick veneer building with trees all around, and had limited car-parking facilities. Hollie never arrived early enough to get a parking spot inside, and always had to park on the roadway.

She locked her car, and was surprised to see Tanya on the landing outside, swinging her legs as if she didn’t have a care in the world. As per usual, Tanya had her hair tied up in ponytail, just like Hollie, and she wore tattered jeans and a t-shirt. Tanya had a freckled complexion and speckled brown eyes. She was slightly built, and had only been training a few months. Hollie considered them to be chalk and cheese, academically at least, and they got along well together.

Hollie recognised Tanya’s boyfriend walking away from the dojo, and was glad she’d missed him. Joey and Tanya lived on unemployment benefits, and never had much money, but could always afford cigarettes. Joey didn’t look approachable, and Hollie thought he could do with fattening up. His hair was wiry and matted, and his teeth were permanently stained from tobacco. Hollie couldn’t imagine anyone wanting to kiss him. His face was lined and would keep a sketch artist busy for days. Hollie had been surprised to hear that he was only thirty, the same age as Tanya. His pupils were often dilated to the point where they smothered the remaining colour of his green eyes, and sometimes when Hollie caught him staring, an overwhelming sense of dread would grip the soul of her being.

She gave her arm a rub. I thought you weren’t coming this week? she said, hurrying towards Tanya.

I heard about your grandfather, and thought you might need a shoulder.

That’s very kind of you, but I’m good, for the moment anyway.

They bowed at the door, and went into the changing room.

Well, well, well, Linda Mack said, turning away from the mirror, and looking slightly down at Hollie. Look what the wind blew in. She flounced her long chestnut coloured hair away from her shoulders. How was the funeral, Sanders?

Fine.

Did your blue eyes get all bloodshot from crying?

Tanya arched up. Leave her alone.

Why should I? She’s an open book – always wearing her heart on her sleeve. Her smile did nothing to soften the harshness of her features. That’s why she’ll never be a fighter. She gives too much away. She needs to start standing up for herself.

You’re just pissed off because everyone likes her and not you. And probably because she won that kata tournament you both entered. Tanya smiled. You’re jealous of her, aren’t you? She chuckled, and nudged Hollie. Did Hollie make you feel incompetent, insecure, outclassed?

Linda narrowed her bluish-green eyes, and bared her teeth. You’re babbling for the sake of babbling. Get out of my way!

The door slammed shut, and Tanya changed her clothing. She bites well. You shouldn’t let her intimidate you. You’re better than her. You need to put the bitch in her place.

Hollie shrugged into her dogi. I will one day, perhaps.

But not anytime soon.

She hasn’t broken my pain barrier yet.

That’s good to know. Can I be around when it happens?

Sure, you can have a front row seat.

Tanya smiled. I’m going to hold you to that.

Hollie tied her brown belt. You should watch yourself. She has a lot of muscle beneath that uniform. She won’t let you forget what just happened.

Good looks and a fake tan don’t make a person scary, Hol. I’m not afraid of her, or anything she thinks she could do to me.

Hollie nodded and opened the door. Her friend was the same height as Linda, and had the fight of a dog on the inside, something Hollie lacked. Come on, we’d better go and limber up.

Tanya tightened her white belt. Will you be going for a run on Sunday?

Of course. Are you going to join me for once?

Not sure. Five-thirty at Central Park, right?

Yep, bright and early.

Maybe I’ll meet you at the bridge. I can’t promise anything, but it all depends on how many drinks we have the night before.

Heaven forbid if you should have a few less one night.

Yeah, I know, but Joey loves Saturday night on the town.

Well, if you turn up, it’ll be great.

Tanya smiled, and followed her into the training hall.

***

Hollie loved going to Central Park and seeing the dew-laden blades of grass glisten in the early morning sunshine. The park had been cleverly designed around a man-made lake, and several varieties of lilly pillies had been planted in hedge formation at varying places the whole way around. Beds of native grass, feathered and flowering, were all clumped together, and made a lovely show of white and purple. The flowers and berries from the trees were a food source for birdlife, and people flocked to the park just to watch and admire nature at its best. The dark green foliage of the lilly pilly trees were forever in a state of being trimmed, and Hollie wondered if Joey could perhaps become a gardener. A few extra dollars might help buy a bottle of conditioner for his wiry hair. Shampoo wouldn’t go astray either.

The park was never truly a quiet place because of the birds, and as Hollie did a few stretching exercises beneath the trees, she hoped the birds would keep to themselves. There weren’t many people about this morning, which suited her fine. Dan was sound asleep when she left, and still not talking to her. That suited her fine too.

She pounded the pavement, and her breathing settled into a nice even rhythm. Her mornings had freed up a month ago when her grandfather had been hospitalised after a fall. She had suspected then that he wouldn’t be coming home. Dan had never been into fitness, and seemed to be one of those people who stayed trim no matter what he ate or how much beer he consumed. Hollie was sure time would catch up with him, but he probably wouldn’t care.

The first two years they had been together were good, the third not so much, and the last year had been one big rough patch. She wasn’t sure they could get back what they once had, and was sick of the cold-shoulder routine he dished out whenever things didn’t go his way. He had pestered her eighteen months ago to become engaged, saying it would reassure him of her love, and she had näively accepted his ring. Her grandfather had scolded her for it. Six months later, she jumped at the chance to leave Barridon and become her grandfather’s carer. She thought Dan would enjoy relocating to a bigger town, but he hadn’t, and she refused to believe that changing addresses was the catalyst for tearing their relationship apart. Westmere was a thriving mining town, halfway between the Blue Mountains and the east coast of Australia, and offered far more entertainment than Barridon ever did, but Dan was always too tired to take her anywhere after being away for days on end doing his repping job.

Her thoughts went to Stefan da Costa, and she was worried he might call again. He seemed like a nice person, but he wouldn’t be getting what he so desired. His passenger could stay the hell away, too. She had seen that man twice now, and both times he had been ranting in Stefan’s ear. The ability to lip read would have come in handy, especially if her grandfather’s sword was the topic of conversation.

Hollie was nearly at the bridge. It was her halfway point, and she loved looking at all the ducks paddling on the water with their families. She searched for Tanya, and saw her on the other side, jumping about and waving frantically. Hollie quickened her pace, and pounded the wooden planks of the walkway.

"Tanya,