Blade's Edge, page 17
part #1 of Chronicles of Gensokai Series
She sighed, as she pulled herself away from those thoughts and sought some explanation for her apparent concern.
“I was merely thinking, Katagi-san.”
“Well you seemed quite… distracted. Do you mind if I ask what you were thinking about?”
Of course she did, but she couldn’t very well tell him that.
“I was just thinking of how nervous I would be if I were about to be tested before the Rōjū,” she lied. “Aren’t you worried?”
Katagi smiled briefly, then frowned.
“A bit, actually. More than I would care to admit. I have been going over kata in my head night after night, and I keep thinking that I’m missing moves…even on the most basic kata that I’ve known for cycles.”
Mishi nodded. She knew that sensation well, though of course she couldn’t say so. Testing for Kuma-sensei made her nervous enough to forget kata that she’d practiced since childhood.
“That sounds frustrating,” was the only safe thing she could think to say.
“Indeed it is. I can’t help but think that no matter what I do, I’ll fail and be told that I am a disgrace to Kisōshi, and my family, and that my parents will disown me, and I will have nothing left to do but commit seppuku and be done with it.”
Mishi grimaced. She hardly thought that ritual suicide was a reasonable response to failing a test, but she hoped that Katagi was exaggerating.
“Just the other night,” he continued in a harried voice, “I had a dream that I was performing my kata before the Rōjū council and everything was going quite well, when suddenly, I was no longer wearing hakama! I had to run from the testing floor and pull my uwagi down over my buttocks as I ran!”
Mishi couldn’t help but laugh. She didn’t want to make Katagi feel any worse, and indeed his facial expression was one of true horror, but the image in her head was just too comical to ignore.
Thankfully, Katagi began to laugh as well.
“I suppose it is rather humorous,” he admitted between chuckles. “But it was terrifying the other night.”
Mishi had to gasp for the breath necessary for speech, and her ribs were beginning to ache from laughing so hard.
“I can imagine,” she said, when she had finally collected enough air. “It would be truly horrifying if it happened in real life. But you have to admit that as a dream, it’s quite funny for anyone who didn’t have to experience it themselves. Besides, let’s be honest, if all you have to worry about for this test is your pants vanishing mysteriously, then you’re probably quite well prepared.”
Katagi chuckled again, and some of the worry seemed to lift from his frame.
“You make a good point. I suppose my mind may be trying to tell me that I am sufficiently prepared and should stop worrying.”
He paused for a moment as though considering something serious.
“But what would I do if my pants really did disappear in the middle of a kata? Suppose that’s part of the test?”
Mishi’s laughter roared forth once more at the sincere look of concern on Katagi’s face.
“If that’s part of the test,” she said when she could speak once more, “then you should simply stand tall at the end of your kata and state that you felt you needed two swords instead of one.”
The laughter that followed had both of them almost falling from their horses, even as they pulled up to the ryokan where they would stay their final night on the road, and the two companions were blind to the stares they drew from a group of young Kisōshi who had arrived only moments before them, while they led their horses to stable still chuckling.
~~~
Mishi’s hands trembled as she groomed the horses in the predawn light, and she worked to keep her mind from repeating the same litany of thoughts about what could go wrong with the plan that had kept her from sleeping through most of the night.
It was only when she started to groom the horses a second time, simply to keep her hands busy, that she noticed that Katagi had not yet arrived at the stable. She had taken longer than usual with the horses, because she knew they would soon be under the scrutiny of the Eihei, the Rōjū City’s private guards, and consequently she had taken extreme care with their grooming this morning. Katagi should have been here by now.
Rōjū City closed its gates at sundown, and if Katagi wasn’t ready soon they would have to ride very hard indeed to arrive in time. And if they had to ride the horses hard all day, they were bound to undo all of the careful grooming she had just done. She went back into the ryokan in search of Katagi.
She found him inside his room with his head underneath his futon, his knees on the tatami, and his backside in the air. He resembled a large flightless bird that Mishi had once seen in a scroll of exotic animals in Tenshi-san’s library.
“Katagi-san, what in the name of all the Kami are you doing?” she asked.
“I camt goh,” came the muffled reply from beneath the futon.
Mishi stood at the door torn between laughter and rage. She chose laughter, because killing him would ruin her cover.
“And why is that, Katagi-san?” she asked, over her own amusement.
He finally removed himself from underneath the futon.
“Because I am going to fail. I am certain of it. I will not pass. I’ll be sent home in disgrace and my parents will be forced to disown me. I’ll have to commit seppuku.”
Mishi watched him deflate as he spoke each word, and she was beginning to worry that she would have to drag him all the way to Rōjū City. She wasn’t worried about carrying him, she was sure she could manage it, but he would no doubt struggle and cause a scene, and she could neither afford the time nor the energy that it would take to force him onto his horse. She briefly considered leaving him behind.
“That’s not true, Katagi-san,” she said, before she could give into temptation and walk away from him to find her own way into the city. “I’m sure Kuma-sensei would never have sent you to the Rōjū council for testing if he didn’t think you were prepared. Do you really believe that he wishes to be the laughing stock of all the other Kisōshi because he sent an incompetent to test?”
Katagi eyed her and looked hopeful for a moment, but then collapsed once more.
“When he sent me on my way I knew what I was doing, but now I’ve forgotten everything. EVERYTHING. I don’t know any kata. I got up early this morning to train and I started doing my first bokken kata, the very first and… I couldn’t remember it. Not even the first move. My mind is blank. I’ve lost everything.”
Mishi knew that laughing would shatter Katagi’s already fragile ego, but it was still a struggle to keep herself in check. She thought about slapping him, but decided to try more words first. She knelt so that she was closer to eye level with him.
“We are nearly there, Katagi-san. We have one day of travel before us, and then it will be time for you to test. It is daunting, to be sure, but it is what you have been training for your whole life. Is there a chance that you will fail? Certainly. But if you don’t go, you will have already failed. Imagine that, Katagi-san. Imagine the shame of returning to your family to tell them that you never even arrived at Rōjū City. What would they say to you then? There is no shame in doing your very best and awaiting the outcome, Katagi-san, but think of the shame in being too afraid to try.”
With that, she turned on her heel and returned to the horses in the stable. She had to get away from the boy before she lost her temper. Was he a Kisōshi or wasn’t he? He was testing for his rank; the worst that could happen would be to have to test again the following cycle. She was risking her life! Did he find her hiding under her futon this morning? Baka! she thought. Show some courage.
She took the horses into the courtyard and fought the urge to leave without him. Already her brain worked to devise some plan that would gain her entrance to the compound without Katagi. She wouldn’t let his cowardice keep her from her own mission. She would—
Katagi walked out of the ryokan and came to take his horse’s reins from her hand.
“Thank you, Mishi-san,” he said.
She didn’t know if he meant for the horses, or the talking to, but she wasn’t about to ask questions. If they rode steadily and didn’t take many breaks, they would reach the gates of Rōjū City just before sundown.
~~~
They were only a few leagues outside of Rōjū City when they overtook a group of six young Kisōshi on the road, centered around a single figure in a bright red and black kimono. Mishi was just wondering why the group looked familiar, when one of the Kisōshi called out to them.
“Ah, if it isn’t the laughing Kisōshi and his faithful servant,” the young Kisōshi called out.
One or two of the other Kisōshi chuckled briefly at the comment, but most of them didn’t bother looking away from the figure in the black and red kimono, who was animatedly telling a story.
“You remember, Kusuko-san,” said that first Kisōshi, “the ones who stayed at the ryokan with us last night?”
Now Mishi remembered why the group looked familiar. They had walked past them entering the stables the night before. They must have left while Mishi had been collecting Katagi from his room, and stayed ahead of them all day.
Mishi wondered why the Kisōshi would make such a fuss over laughter. Did they never laugh with their friends?
“Ah yes, his servant the giantess…” said another young Kisōshi.
Mishi’s fists clenched on the reins of her horse at the way the man said the word servant. What was he implying? Then she realized that he’d called her a giantess, and blood rushed to her face. Her sisters constantly teased her for her height, but she mostly forgot about it when they weren’t busy poking fun at her. It wasn’t something most other people commented on, though she occasionally heard it whispered behind a hand or fan when she passed through a market square. She was taller than any other woman she’d met, taller, even, than most men.
Mishi kept her eyes on her horse and rode in silence, desperately trying to keep any more heat from rushing to her cheeks and neck, causing her further embarrassment. Just as she expected all eyes to be on her and someone to comment on how she was turning as red as a mountain beet, Katagi’s voice rang out over the group.
“Are you so easily intimidated by the stature of a woman?” he asked the Kisōshi who had made the giantess comment. “How small a man are you, that such a thing frightens you?”
Mishi continued to stare at her horse, but she smiled inwardly. She thought those were big words coming from a man who had been hiding his head under his futon only this morning, but she still appreciated Katagi’s attempt to come to her defense.
The Kisōshi who had made the giantess comment turned in his saddle and moved his arm to his katana, but the Kisōshi who had originally called out to them maneuvered his horse between the two of them before the first one could draw his blade.
“I’m sorry, my friend has a bad sense of humor,” he said. “We’re traveling to the Rōjū City for our second test of rank, and some of us are nervous.”
Mishi could tell that the man was simply trying to placate them, which she thought was interesting since Katagi was an as of yet untested Kisōshi, while all of them had already past their first test of rank. Did he think Katagi somehow posed a threat, despite the fact that he traveled alone with only a single servant?
“Iwama-san here has forgotten how to be courteous to servants, since we sent all of ours ahead to prepare our quarters for us. All except for Kusuko-san here, who we have kept to entertain us with her stories,” he continued jovially.
“I’m Saito,” he said, after a pause in which neither Katagi nor Mishi said anything. “Please, join our group. We should make the gates with time to spare before sunset.”
Mishi hoped that Katagi would refuse, but knew that there was no polite way of doing so, now that they knew they shared a destination.
“Pleased to meet you Saito-san,” Katagi replied. “I’m Kazeki, and this is…” Katagi hesitated for a moment, and Mishi realized that they’d come to another awkward moment caused by her presence. Saito had introduced himself with his family name, so Katagi had done the same, but now he was left in awkward silence. As an orphan, Mishi didn’t have a family name. In truth, she now knew her family name, but it would be suicidal to tell it to anyone.
“Koji,” she said quietly, hoping no one would notice. It was more subtle than explaining that she was an orphan, but barely.
“Koji-san,” Katagi repeated lamely, as his cheeks reddened slightly at his own blunder.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you both,” Saito said. “We’re all traveling from Ushiomachi.”
Mishi tuned out the conversation of the two young men, now that it was clearly focused on trivialities and no longer likely to break out in violence, allowing her mind to wander as she took in the passing scenery. Every now and again, the porcelain skinned woman wearing the red and black kimono, Kusuko-san, Saito had said, let out a high pitched giggle that distracted Mishi from her enjoyment of the mountains that lined the valley and drew closer together as they neared Rōjū City.
The peaks in the distance reminded her of Tatsu’s mountain, and made her miss her mentor. She had gone to visit him briefly before leaving for this trip, but this was the first time since she had started her training with him five cycles ago that she hadn’t visited him at least once in a tenday. She felt the absence keenly. Suddenly, she was very aware that if things went poorly on this mission, she would never see Tatsu again. Somehow, that possibility made the prospect of death seem more real to her than anything else had. She had begun to contemplate why that might be, when she was suddenly drawn from her reverie by the view that appeared before them as they came around a curve in the road.
The mountains had narrowed over the past few leagues and funneled them into a steep valley, so that the rolling green slopes topped in rocky peaks had now become walls on either side of them, rather than just grey obstacles in the distance. But as they came around this last turn, the tight valley opened slightly, revealing a chain of multistory buildings with intricately decorated swooping roofs, connected by delicate looking bridges over a series of small gorges, canals, and rivers, all shrouded in a fine mist.
Mishi snapped her mouth closed as Kusuko pulled her horse forward into a light trot, towards the gate that nestled in the large stone wall that circled the city.
“Welcome to Rōjū City,” she called over her shoulder, as she rode ahead.
MISHI KNELT BEHIND Katagi and tried not to fidget, blush, sweat, or otherwise give away her current emotional state. She took a deep breath, in an attempt to calm herself, and found that it only made things worse. The tang of sweat and anxiety coming from Katagi and herself mixed with the scents of the tatami touching her forehead, the scent of the hundred strangers that filled the enormous room, and a bite in the air like a summer storm, which threatened to overwhelm her.
She had managed to hold herself together admirably as they had ridden through the gate to Rōjū City the day before; back straight, head inclined in the proper deference of a servant, leading both her horse and Katagi’s, with him still astride, as she presented their papers to the Eihei that manned the gate.… But that had been a single Kisōshi inspecting them, and they’d had the benefit of a crowd of Kisōshi riding with them, all of whom were well known to the Rōjū City guard. Only one person to fool into believing that she was simply a servant and needed no additional inspection, an easy feat when surrounded by a group of Kisōshi that were already fooled. The man had paid more attention to the pedigree of the horses and the make of Katagi’s sword than he had to her, and she hadn’t even felt a moment of discomfort as they were assigned to their guest quarters and told they would be presented the following morning.
Now, as she knelt with her head bowed to the floor, under the gaze of hundreds of eyes, with a physical hum of kisō vibrating in the room due to the presence of so many Kisōshi gathered in a single place—and with no more than her own dampening and Katagi’s kisō register to protect her—she nearly retched with the sense of vulnerability that enfolded her. She swallowed, and hoped that having her face to the floor would keep most people from noticing how nervous she was.
“Kazeki Katagi-san, and his servant,” said the voice of the guard who had escorted them in.
Mishi’s breathing hitched briefly at the mention of her position, but her name wasn’t even given. She worked to even out her breathing. After shoring up her effort to dampen her kisō, she listened to the litany of Katagi’s ancestry that he was required to recite for the Rōjū in attendance. His voice was strong and steady as he listed the long line of Kisōshi that had eventually led to his conception, and she thought that he seemed much less terrified today than yesterday. As she relaxed, her mind ran over the details of the hall they had entered. Like the rest of the city, the Rōjū audience chamber was larger than necessary and excessively ornate. The solid oak doors that they had passed through had been several times the height of a man, and thicker than Mishi was wide, not to mention carved with intricate reliefs of animals and landscapes. The chamber within had a ceiling even taller than the doors, and was large enough to host hundreds of onlookers, while still leaving ample space in the center for petitioners, or Kisōshi being examined, or those introducing themselves and reciting their lineage. Mishi hadn’t had much time to take in the details of the room before she had knelt to the tatami behind Katagi-san, and she was thankful that she was required to remain with her head to the floor for the remainder of his introduction. As far as she was concerned, there was no safe place to let her gaze linger in this room, between the dais at the front of the room playing host to all the members of the Rōjū council, and the legions of visiting Kisōshi seated in the raised benches that lined both walls of the giant chamber…
