Birds in their Nests
Chapter 1
Otosan Uchi, Summer 1218
Utaku Yamada was tired. It had been a long ride from Phoenix lands, weeks on the roads riding in the late summer heat. Something that she would normally enjoy but was more difficult now due to the burden she carried. She stroked Yoru’s neck affectionately. He understood everything and had been there with her from the beginning.
She approached the gates of Otosan Uchi. Yamada didn’t really like cities though she had been to quite a number of them in her travels. But coming here, she didn’t like what it represented. It was an end, an end to all that had been of her life. And when she left, it would be the beginning of something else.
Once through the gates, Yamada made her way through the streets and over the bridges. As went further in, through poorer distracts and towards the wealthier, she noticed that the conditions improved. In the poorer districts there was a lot of rubble to avoid but as she neared the centre of the city conditions began to improve. She began to see more rebuilding, and sometimes whole buildings that had been reconstructed. Despite Yamada’s dislike of cities, she was impressed by how much was recovered from the utter devastation it had been sitting in for decades.
After searching for what seemed like hours, Yamada found the right house. In the Chisei District, near the wall that divided the inner and outer districts. Separating the house from the street was a stone that seemed to be fashioned from the rubble that littered the streets. The wall had two wooden gates, one wider presumably for horses and deliveries, and another narrower gate. Painted on it were three white birds in flight holding a pale blue ribbon that fluttered in a breeze.
Yamada smiled. This was definitely Kyoumi’s house.
The gate opened, a man came out. Clearly a servant, he bowed low to Yamada.
“Utaku-sama, I bid you welcome to the house of Kakita Kousuda and Kyoumi,” he said. “Please, allow me to take your horse.”
Yamada dismounted, carefully and with a little difficulty. She stroked Yoru’s nose and the handed the reins to the servant who took him in the side gate.
It was then that Kyoumi emerged from the house. She wore a cornflower blue kimono decorated with a pattern of silver leaves and birds. Her brown hair was tied back in a fox tail with a green silk scarf. She was pleased to see Yamada, but there was something else there behind her stormy grey eyes. A secret? What did she know now in her work with the Voice of the Emperor?
Yamada dismissed such questions, if she was supposed to know out such things there was time for it. And if she wasn’t…
Kyoumi made a formal bow to Yamada. “Utaku Yamada-san, welcome to our home. I do hope you will be as comfortable here as you would in your own.”
An odd thing to say, given what Unicorn “homes” are like, thought Yamada. She bowed in return, with a little difficulty. These formalities between them seemed a little funny given how well they had known each other at Shiro Mirumoto last winter.
“Thank you for having me, Kyoumi-san,” said Yamada.
“Please, come in,” said Kyoumi, leading Yamada into her home.
Kyoumi and Kousuda’s home was a haven of colour and order amid the ashes of a ruined city. Here and there were little touches that reflected their personalities, their origins as well as their hopes.
A stream of white gravel ran parallel to the dividing wall and meandered along until it entered in a sort of circle in the middle of the courtyard. Breaking up the bareness of the white stones were a few rock formations and flowers in pots. Right at the end of the stream in a brightly coloured pot that Yamada knew was Kousuda’s doing was a small almond tree.
They crossed the gravel stream on a small wooden footbridge and after removing their outdoor shoes entered the house itself.
The house was constructed simply of paper and wood, but inside again were personal touches. Yamada could see some of Kousuda’s paintings on the walls, one she clearly recognized was of Chrysanthemum Lake in Unicorn lands. There were also some poetry scrolls on the walls that were clearly Kyoumi’s.
The main room had a brightly coloured carpet on which was a table with a glass vase with a subtle ikebana arrangement. On the floor around it were richly embroidered cushions. A shoji screen divided the room; on it was a delicate painting of cranes in flight.
The sliding doors to the courtyard were open and Yamada could see the other buildings that surrounded the open space. One was small, probably the servants’ house, the other was better described as a shed and had a stout lock on the door.
“I know it isn’t much…” Kyoumi began to say.
“No, no, it’s lovely,” said Yamada earnestly. “I love the little touches you have made, the traditional and the new.”
Kyoumi managed a smile, but there was still the formal demeanour. “Kousuda has been called out, but he will be back this evening,” she said. “Can I get you something to eat? Or would you prefer to rest after your long journey?”
“Please, Kyoumi, don’t put yourself out,” said Yamada, trying to work out what was happening with her friend. “You are the one doing me a favour by having me stay with you. Don’t feel as if you have to change things to be more accommodating, because I know you are.” She smiled, trying to reassure her. “And yes, I think I will have a rest.”
Kyoumi relaxed a little, showing Yamada to a guest room.
The guest room was simple with plain furnishings and a few decorations. And it would be Yamada’s home until the spring.
One of the servants, a girl named Izumi, helped Yamada out of her armour and helped her change her clothes. Then she asked if Yamada wanted her to draw a bath.
“No thank you,” said Yamada, “perhaps later.”
Once alone, Yamada laid on her side on the futon. She wore a yukata in a pale mauve that was almost white, tied with a white obi. Her hands around her belly that was only just visible through her clothing, feeling the movement of the child inside. The only remnant of her brief marriage to her late husband. Utaku Nakura, once Yasuki.
It had been six months since Nakura had died. Six months since he had been cut to pieces while she had held him in her arms. Six months since she had told him he was going to be a father. And all gone in the one day.
Every day she thought of him. Every day she remembered his smile, his voice, his touch; his warmth next to her when they slept together at night. Every day she remembered the plans they had made, the life they were going to build together, the family they had wanted to start. And every day, Yamada had to push those memories back, lest they grow into the possibilities of what would never be.
Ashes upon ashes. The ruins of what she had lost last winter fell upon the ruins of what she had lost as a child. She had had a family then, a home, and lost it when the Unicorn lands had fallen to the Onyx and her world had ended.
She felt a hand—or was it a foot?—striking the wall of her belly. He—and Yamada knew it would be a he—was already a comfort to her, even before he was born. Her son would never know such loss, she would make sure of it. A family, a home, what she and his father had wanted to give but no longer could.
She had a promise to keep after all. And a dark duty to perform. But not yet, not now, not until the spring.
Dinner was more relaxed. It seemed as if Kousuda knew something was bothering Kyoumi and did his best to lighten the mood.
It worked. Yamada had never doubted the former Ide’s way with words, but this was rather impressive. It wasn’t long until he had them laughing over one of his stories from Medina al-Salaam. Yamada had heard the story before but didn’t mind hearing it again. It was when Kousuda had gotten into an altercation with some Yodatai traders that somehow he ended up getting the better of.
When the meal was over and Izumi served tea, Kyoumi asked Yamada about her time in Phoenix lands.
“It was…interesting,” Yamada said, placing her tea cup on the table. “Our priority was making sure the terms of having the Blessed Herd in Isawa lands were understood and that we will be left alone.”
“And will it happen?” Kousuda asked.
Yamada sighed. “It will, for now at least. Things were very difficult there, with many of the Isawa in rebellion there is basically no leadership. Kyuden Isawa was abandoned, after what we heard about what happened there we didn’t want to go near the place. We managed to find someone in the Shiba who understood what we needed, but it is probably not going to stay that way for long. It will change, we just made sure we would be ready when it does.” She looked at Kyoumi. “You remember how Karasu managed to find us an Emerald Magistrate? Kitsuki Masayoshi is still up there. Shinjo Saeki-dono says we will still need her.” She took a sip of tea. “How is Karasu? Have you heard from him lately?”
Kyoumi nodded. “We’ve had letters. He’s working well with Hikahime and the Legion. I have heard good things and we can expect more.”
“What’s it like?” Kousuda asked. “Up there, where the herd will be?”
Yamada knew what he meant. She cast her mind back, remembering what it was like when they finally arrived at Garanto province. The green meadows where the herd would roam and graze. If only she could have stayed… “It’s not home, but it’s very close,” she said. “If they are left alone, they should be safe.”
Kousuda nodded. He and Yamada exchanged a look, a sharing of a common kinship between the children of Shinjo that nothing could take away.
“Oh, I almost forgot,” said Yamada.
She sent Izumi to her room and the girl returned with a box. Yamada put it on the table and opened it. Immediately the scent of pine filled the room. Kyoumi smiled, inhaling it gratefully. Inside were three sprigs of pine, their fronds forming a frame around three pinecones.
“I know you spent some time in Phoenix lands,” said Yamada. “There is something unique there that isn’t like anywhere in Rokugan. Especially Isawa Mori, which is where these are from.” She pushed the box towards Kyoumi.
“Oh, we couldn’t accept it,” said Kyoumi, looking longingly at the box. “You need not have gone to such trouble.”
“It is you who is going to a lot of trouble by having me stay with you,” said Yamada.
“This is but a small token of what you have done for me.”
“This is a wonderful gift,” Kyoumi said, knowing her lines and playing her part very well in this. “It reminds me of my time in the Phoenix lands when I was at the Artisan School. It is too much.”
“Then I am very glad to have given such a good memory,” said Yamada. “And I know you will use these to add the beauty you have already created in your home.”
“Then I accept, with thanks,” said Kyoumi.
After dinner, Kyoumi excused herself saying she had work to do for the Voice. Yamada and Kousuda went to check on the horses. The stable was at the back of the house and was rather small, but adequate for Kousuda’s horse, Yoru and any other guests that could be staying there.
Yamada talked with the groom, asking detailed questions. When he revealed that he was of Unicorn blood, Yamada knew there was no reason to question him further. When he left, she tended to Yoru; he wasn’t fond of stables so she made sure he was comfortable.
“There’s quite a lot of Unicorn living in Otosan Uchi now,” Kousuda told her. “So, it’s not difficult at all to find someone who understands horses.”
“How are you finding it here, Kousuda?” Yamada asked. “Staying in one place? In a city? I know the Ide did it more, but we have been nomadic for a while now.”
“I’m liking it,” Kousuda said. “Truth be told, Kyoumi feels a little shut-in here too, I doubt we would have come here were it not for her work with the Voice.” He sounded as if he wanted to say more, but chose not to.
“You don’t have to pretend, Kousuda,” Yamada said. “You’re happy here with Kyoumi, there’s nothing wrong with that.”
Kousuda managed a smile. “Tell me, how are things with you?”
Yamada didn’t answer at first; she rested her head on Yoru’s nose. Feeling his warmth, smelling his smell. “I survive, I guess,” she said, her voice low. “I go on, I do what I need to.” She turned to face him, her face a mask that betrayed nothing. “I never did thank you for that day, Kousuda-san. For what you tried to tell me, how you tried to stop the duel. You were right.”
“It would not have made much difference,” Kousuda reminded her.
“It would,” Yamada said. “Nakura would have had dignity.” She looked down. “He wanted to end it that way, I talked him out of it.”
“Don’t blame yourself, Yamada-san,” Kousuda said, trying to reassure her. “He made the choice, and you know why.”
“I have to,” said Yamada, “it’s all I can do.”
Kousuda nodded, not saying anything further. They then shut up the horses, going back to the house.
“Listen,” Kousuda said. “I want you to know that I am very happy you are here. For Kyoumi, she needs friends right now.”
“She seems under a lot of strain,” said Yamada.
Kousuda nodded. “I have to be away until winter,” he said. “Knowing you will be here makes me feel a little better about leaving her.”
“Can you tell me what is troubling her?” Yamada asked.
“She will tell you in her own time,” Kousuda said.
Yamada nodded. “She needs you, but I will try to be there for her.”
In the night, the memories came as they always did. Flashes of what had been, what would never be. It was much harder to dismiss them at the night than it was during the day.
She felt her son move inside her. Another one that Nakura wasn’t there for.
And he will never know his father, Yamada thought sadly, Or me.
She laid down on the futon, cupping her hands around her belly. Closing her eyes against the darkness.
But sleep was far from her that night.
Chapter 1
Otosan Uchi, Summer 1218
Utaku Yamada was tired. It had been a long ride from Phoenix lands, weeks on the roads riding in the late summer heat. Something that she would normally enjoy but was more difficult now due to the burden she carried. She stroked Yoru’s neck affectionately. He understood everything and had been there with her from the beginning.
She approached the gates of Otosan Uchi. Yamada didn’t really like cities though she had been to quite a number of them in her travels. But coming here, she didn’t like what it represented. It was an end, an end to all that had been of her life. And when she left, it would be the beginning of something else.
Once through the gates, Yamada made her way through the streets and over the bridges. As went further in, through poorer distracts and towards the wealthier, she noticed that the conditions improved. In the poorer districts there was a lot of rubble to avoid but as she neared the centre of the city conditions began to improve. She began to see more rebuilding, and sometimes whole buildings that had been reconstructed. Despite Yamada’s dislike of cities, she was impressed by how much was recovered from the utter devastation it had been sitting in for decades.
After searching for what seemed like hours, Yamada found the right house. In the Chisei District, near the wall that divided the inner and outer districts. Separating the house from the street was a stone that seemed to be fashioned from the rubble that littered the streets. The wall had two wooden gates, one wider presumably for horses and deliveries, and another narrower gate. Painted on it were three white birds in flight holding a pale blue ribbon that fluttered in a breeze.
Yamada smiled. This was definitely Kyoumi’s house.
The gate opened, a man came out. Clearly a servant, he bowed low to Yamada.
“Utaku-sama, I bid you welcome to the house of Kakita Kousuda and Kyoumi,” he said. “Please, allow me to take your horse.”
Yamada dismounted, carefully and with a little difficulty. She stroked Yoru’s nose and the handed the reins to the servant who took him in the side gate.
It was then that Kyoumi emerged from the house. She wore a cornflower blue kimono decorated with a pattern of silver leaves and birds. Her brown hair was tied back in a fox tail with a green silk scarf. She was pleased to see Yamada, but there was something else there behind her stormy grey eyes. A secret? What did she know now in her work with the Voice of the Emperor?
Yamada dismissed such questions, if she was supposed to know out such things there was time for it. And if she wasn’t…
Kyoumi made a formal bow to Yamada. “Utaku Yamada-san, welcome to our home. I do hope you will be as comfortable here as you would in your own.”
An odd thing to say, given what Unicorn “homes” are like, thought Yamada. She bowed in return, with a little difficulty. These formalities between them seemed a little funny given how well they had known each other at Shiro Mirumoto last winter.
“Thank you for having me, Kyoumi-san,” said Yamada.
“Please, come in,” said Kyoumi, leading Yamada into her home.
Kyoumi and Kousuda’s home was a haven of colour and order amid the ashes of a ruined city. Here and there were little touches that reflected their personalities, their origins as well as their hopes.
A stream of white gravel ran parallel to the dividing wall and meandered along until it entered in a sort of circle in the middle of the courtyard. Breaking up the bareness of the white stones were a few rock formations and flowers in pots. Right at the end of the stream in a brightly coloured pot that Yamada knew was Kousuda’s doing was a small almond tree.
They crossed the gravel stream on a small wooden footbridge and after removing their outdoor shoes entered the house itself.
The house was constructed simply of paper and wood, but inside again were personal touches. Yamada could see some of Kousuda’s paintings on the walls, one she clearly recognized was of Chrysanthemum Lake in Unicorn lands. There were also some poetry scrolls on the walls that were clearly Kyoumi’s.
The main room had a brightly coloured carpet on which was a table with a glass vase with a subtle ikebana arrangement. On the floor around it were richly embroidered cushions. A shoji screen divided the room; on it was a delicate painting of cranes in flight.
The sliding doors to the courtyard were open and Yamada could see the other buildings that surrounded the open space. One was small, probably the servants’ house, the other was better described as a shed and had a stout lock on the door.
“I know it isn’t much…” Kyoumi began to say.
“No, no, it’s lovely,” said Yamada earnestly. “I love the little touches you have made, the traditional and the new.”
Kyoumi managed a smile, but there was still the formal demeanour. “Kousuda has been called out, but he will be back this evening,” she said. “Can I get you something to eat? Or would you prefer to rest after your long journey?”
“Please, Kyoumi, don’t put yourself out,” said Yamada, trying to work out what was happening with her friend. “You are the one doing me a favour by having me stay with you. Don’t feel as if you have to change things to be more accommodating, because I know you are.” She smiled, trying to reassure her. “And yes, I think I will have a rest.”
Kyoumi relaxed a little, showing Yamada to a guest room.
The guest room was simple with plain furnishings and a few decorations. And it would be Yamada’s home until the spring.
One of the servants, a girl named Izumi, helped Yamada out of her armour and helped her change her clothes. Then she asked if Yamada wanted her to draw a bath.
“No thank you,” said Yamada, “perhaps later.”
Once alone, Yamada laid on her side on the futon. She wore a yukata in a pale mauve that was almost white, tied with a white obi. Her hands around her belly that was only just visible through her clothing, feeling the movement of the child inside. The only remnant of her brief marriage to her late husband. Utaku Nakura, once Yasuki.
It had been six months since Nakura had died. Six months since he had been cut to pieces while she had held him in her arms. Six months since she had told him he was going to be a father. And all gone in the one day.
Every day she thought of him. Every day she remembered his smile, his voice, his touch; his warmth next to her when they slept together at night. Every day she remembered the plans they had made, the life they were going to build together, the family they had wanted to start. And every day, Yamada had to push those memories back, lest they grow into the possibilities of what would never be.
Ashes upon ashes. The ruins of what she had lost last winter fell upon the ruins of what she had lost as a child. She had had a family then, a home, and lost it when the Unicorn lands had fallen to the Onyx and her world had ended.
She felt a hand—or was it a foot?—striking the wall of her belly. He—and Yamada knew it would be a he—was already a comfort to her, even before he was born. Her son would never know such loss, she would make sure of it. A family, a home, what she and his father had wanted to give but no longer could.
She had a promise to keep after all. And a dark duty to perform. But not yet, not now, not until the spring.
Dinner was more relaxed. It seemed as if Kousuda knew something was bothering Kyoumi and did his best to lighten the mood.
It worked. Yamada had never doubted the former Ide’s way with words, but this was rather impressive. It wasn’t long until he had them laughing over one of his stories from Medina al-Salaam. Yamada had heard the story before but didn’t mind hearing it again. It was when Kousuda had gotten into an altercation with some Yodatai traders that somehow he ended up getting the better of.
When the meal was over and Izumi served tea, Kyoumi asked Yamada about her time in Phoenix lands.
“It was…interesting,” Yamada said, placing her tea cup on the table. “Our priority was making sure the terms of having the Blessed Herd in Isawa lands were understood and that we will be left alone.”
“And will it happen?” Kousuda asked.
Yamada sighed. “It will, for now at least. Things were very difficult there, with many of the Isawa in rebellion there is basically no leadership. Kyuden Isawa was abandoned, after what we heard about what happened there we didn’t want to go near the place. We managed to find someone in the Shiba who understood what we needed, but it is probably not going to stay that way for long. It will change, we just made sure we would be ready when it does.” She looked at Kyoumi. “You remember how Karasu managed to find us an Emerald Magistrate? Kitsuki Masayoshi is still up there. Shinjo Saeki-dono says we will still need her.” She took a sip of tea. “How is Karasu? Have you heard from him lately?”
Kyoumi nodded. “We’ve had letters. He’s working well with Hikahime and the Legion. I have heard good things and we can expect more.”
“What’s it like?” Kousuda asked. “Up there, where the herd will be?”
Yamada knew what he meant. She cast her mind back, remembering what it was like when they finally arrived at Garanto province. The green meadows where the herd would roam and graze. If only she could have stayed… “It’s not home, but it’s very close,” she said. “If they are left alone, they should be safe.”
Kousuda nodded. He and Yamada exchanged a look, a sharing of a common kinship between the children of Shinjo that nothing could take away.
“Oh, I almost forgot,” said Yamada.
She sent Izumi to her room and the girl returned with a box. Yamada put it on the table and opened it. Immediately the scent of pine filled the room. Kyoumi smiled, inhaling it gratefully. Inside were three sprigs of pine, their fronds forming a frame around three pinecones.
“I know you spent some time in Phoenix lands,” said Yamada. “There is something unique there that isn’t like anywhere in Rokugan. Especially Isawa Mori, which is where these are from.” She pushed the box towards Kyoumi.
“Oh, we couldn’t accept it,” said Kyoumi, looking longingly at the box. “You need not have gone to such trouble.”
“It is you who is going to a lot of trouble by having me stay with you,” said Yamada.
“This is but a small token of what you have done for me.”
“This is a wonderful gift,” Kyoumi said, knowing her lines and playing her part very well in this. “It reminds me of my time in the Phoenix lands when I was at the Artisan School. It is too much.”
“Then I am very glad to have given such a good memory,” said Yamada. “And I know you will use these to add the beauty you have already created in your home.”
“Then I accept, with thanks,” said Kyoumi.
After dinner, Kyoumi excused herself saying she had work to do for the Voice. Yamada and Kousuda went to check on the horses. The stable was at the back of the house and was rather small, but adequate for Kousuda’s horse, Yoru and any other guests that could be staying there.
Yamada talked with the groom, asking detailed questions. When he revealed that he was of Unicorn blood, Yamada knew there was no reason to question him further. When he left, she tended to Yoru; he wasn’t fond of stables so she made sure he was comfortable.
“There’s quite a lot of Unicorn living in Otosan Uchi now,” Kousuda told her. “So, it’s not difficult at all to find someone who understands horses.”
“How are you finding it here, Kousuda?” Yamada asked. “Staying in one place? In a city? I know the Ide did it more, but we have been nomadic for a while now.”
“I’m liking it,” Kousuda said. “Truth be told, Kyoumi feels a little shut-in here too, I doubt we would have come here were it not for her work with the Voice.” He sounded as if he wanted to say more, but chose not to.
“You don’t have to pretend, Kousuda,” Yamada said. “You’re happy here with Kyoumi, there’s nothing wrong with that.”
Kousuda managed a smile. “Tell me, how are things with you?”
Yamada didn’t answer at first; she rested her head on Yoru’s nose. Feeling his warmth, smelling his smell. “I survive, I guess,” she said, her voice low. “I go on, I do what I need to.” She turned to face him, her face a mask that betrayed nothing. “I never did thank you for that day, Kousuda-san. For what you tried to tell me, how you tried to stop the duel. You were right.”
“It would not have made much difference,” Kousuda reminded her.
“It would,” Yamada said. “Nakura would have had dignity.” She looked down. “He wanted to end it that way, I talked him out of it.”
“Don’t blame yourself, Yamada-san,” Kousuda said, trying to reassure her. “He made the choice, and you know why.”
“I have to,” said Yamada, “it’s all I can do.”
Kousuda nodded, not saying anything further. They then shut up the horses, going back to the house.
“Listen,” Kousuda said. “I want you to know that I am very happy you are here. For Kyoumi, she needs friends right now.”
“She seems under a lot of strain,” said Yamada.
Kousuda nodded. “I have to be away until winter,” he said. “Knowing you will be here makes me feel a little better about leaving her.”
“Can you tell me what is troubling her?” Yamada asked.
“She will tell you in her own time,” Kousuda said.
Yamada nodded. “She needs you, but I will try to be there for her.”
In the night, the memories came as they always did. Flashes of what had been, what would never be. It was much harder to dismiss them at the night than it was during the day.
She felt her son move inside her. Another one that Nakura wasn’t there for.
And he will never know his father, Yamada thought sadly, Or me.
She laid down on the futon, cupping her hands around her belly. Closing her eyes against the darkness.
But sleep was far from her that night.
