Chapter 3
Late Spring, 1236 - Second City
The old Doji had done what he could. In the way of the Doji, he considered it his duty to look after every tiny detail. Her room was comfortable and serene. He had already had prepared for her clothing in exactly the correct current fashion for yojimbo in the court, though he had noted that her armor was perfectly appropriate. But it was hard to keep her face correctly impassive as she followed him into the colonnaded courtyard that served as the Warlord’s palace. She felt like she was walking out onto a battlefield naked.
She immediately drew eyes from throughout the court. Mushari was old, a familiar face. They were used to seeing his white hair and blue eyes. But Arahime’s pale skin, long, ivory locks, and stormy gray eyes, stood out in a stark contrast amidst these darker faces. It had been several years since a Crane maiden, especially one of the kuge, had appeared in these halls. Perhaps it was the shortness of her kimono, but Arahime could feel hungry eyes upon her.
Mushari led her to a man, around her mother’s age, with green eyes and his red hair streaked with white from an early age. He bowed to him, and then made a gesture towards her. She bowed also, more deeply.
“Morishita-sama, please allow me to introduce my new yojimbo, Kakita Arahime. She has just arrived on the Cormorant from Otosan Uchi” He turned slightly to face Arahime. “Arahime-san, I am privileged to introduce you to the head of the Great House Morishita.”
Arahime’s quick mind raced over the notes that her mother had prepared for her and that she had memorized as she bowed again. Used to be Kitsune. Shugenja. Testy. Has Red Panda spirit. A few other things. “Morishita-sama,” she offered as smoothly as she was able. “It is an honor to meet such a renowned Restorer-of-the-Lands. How are the efforts here in these lands going?”
The Shugenja cocked his head thoughtfully, looking the girl up and down. “Well,” he offered Mushari. “She’s more polite than the last one. That is something, I suppose.” He turned to address Arahime directly. “We’ve reclaimed about as much of the jungle as we can, barring help from the Emperor, which we’re not going to get. Naturally. But it is polite of you to ask.” He rubbed the short beard he wore. “You look familiar to me. Do you have family from the Colonies?”
Arahime darted an uncertain glance towards Mushari, who stepped in smoothly. “She is the daughter to a Crane poet. Kakita Kyoumi. I believe she wrote a sequence of stories that was quite popular here about six years ago called the ‘Journey of the Woodpecker?’ Delightful tales.”
Lord Morishita acknowledged the name, but Arahime could not help but think the man’s smile looked rather awkward. “Well, we shall see if your new yojimbo can outstrip her predecessors in honor, Mushari-san.” He gave a small bow to both and departed.
Mushari watched him go thoughtfully.
There were other introductions, a whirlwind. Some of the names she had memorized previously, some she had not but did her best. All were older men and women, similar in age to Mushari. The last introduction, made towards the end of the day, was the Warlord himself.
The scrolls Arahime had studied had described the Warlord’s heritage, part Ivinda, part Moshi from the days before the colonies had received their independence, part son of Yoritomo, born from the Scorpion, adopted child of the Son of Storms. He was a slender, tall man, with dark, dark skin, even darker than Harun’s, with long gray hair and odd, gaijin eyes that evaluated her like the Master Gardener would take the measure of a new tree taking root in his garden. Like a man trying to decide if this tree should be uprooted or fostered. She bent knee properly, keeping in perfect alignment with her charge, though adjusting for her lower station.
The Warlord’s expression was cool. “Welcome to Second City. I hope you have the chance to enjoy all that we have to offer.”
The words were neutral, but it sounded like an instruction. “I look forward to it, Arashi-sama.” Equally neutral, but eager to please. That should work.
The Warlord then made a gesture, and a much younger man, much the same in appearance as the Warlord, stepped forward. He was only a year or two older than Arahime herself. He too had long black hair in a flowing tail and dark, dark skin, though his eyes were not as wide and gaijin. She could feel those eyes running over her. He was wearing a loose-fitting kimono of teal silk that showed off his muscular chest. The younger man bowed politely. “Allow me to introduce my only grandson, Seiho-kun,” the Warlord offered.
Arahime bowed back towards the younger man. Once again, she felt very self-conscious as the eyes of the court turned upon her, and could draw no sense of intent from the Warlord’s beast-eyes. “I am honored to meet you, Seiho-sama.”
The Warlord’s grandson smiled, his white teeth flashing. “I find myself jealous of old Mushari-san, that he may spend so much time basking in this radiance. I hope he would not object if I pluck a few small moments of your time to introduce you to the wonders of Second City.” His voice was smooth and charming and altogether too forward.
Arahime felt an instinctive pang of immediate loathing which she managed to keep from her face. This may not be in my duties, but I must not be rude. Maybe a polite refusal? “Surely you would be too busy to act as guide for a simple yojimbo such as me.”
“Is that not the lesson of the Crane that time spent in the presence of great beauty is never wasted?” Seiho seemed pleased with his cleverness in the response.
Oh no. He’s taking it as a gift. Now there was no getting out of it. Arahime tried to keep her voice neutral as she answered, “There is such great beauty in these lands already, bright colors and vivid sights. I am plain and pale in comparison.”
“Ah, but half the beauty of these flowers are in their exotic nature, and here, you are a rare bloom. I would be honored to be seen in the presence of such a rarity.”
Arahime’s bow helped her conceal her frustration. The Arashi was greater rank than her; she had little choice anyway. “I would be happy to see these exotic sights then, if Mushari-sama finds opportunity to grant me leave, Seiho-sama.”
She could hear the faint sound of tittering from behind her, where a number of the other younger courtiers stood with their fans raised. On being dismissed, she straightened and turned, but the laughter stopped as she turned to face them. But she could feel the eyes of many upon her. Evaluating her, judging her, weighing her as an ally, obstacle or threat.
On the way out of the door, she and the ambassador were intercepted by one of the young women of the court, wearing the mons of the Ota family.
“Oh, Mushari-sama, please let us welcome your new yojimbo,” the courtier said. “It looks like she will be so popular....and terribly...exotic. I am sure many of the young men of the court cannot wait to enjoy some time in her presence. And the rest of us cannot wait to find out how closely she resembles all we have heard of the legendary beauties of the Crane.”
The woman’s words were perfectly effusive and polite, but her inferences hit Arahime like a blow. How dare they? But Ambassador Mushari just nodded and smiled without responding, leading Arahime away while she focused on maintaining her On.
More eyes followed her on the way out. She straightened her back and tilted her chin up. Ignore them. Focus on your duty, Arahime. Serve.
Late Spring, 1236 - Second City
The old Doji had done what he could. In the way of the Doji, he considered it his duty to look after every tiny detail. Her room was comfortable and serene. He had already had prepared for her clothing in exactly the correct current fashion for yojimbo in the court, though he had noted that her armor was perfectly appropriate. But it was hard to keep her face correctly impassive as she followed him into the colonnaded courtyard that served as the Warlord’s palace. She felt like she was walking out onto a battlefield naked.
She immediately drew eyes from throughout the court. Mushari was old, a familiar face. They were used to seeing his white hair and blue eyes. But Arahime’s pale skin, long, ivory locks, and stormy gray eyes, stood out in a stark contrast amidst these darker faces. It had been several years since a Crane maiden, especially one of the kuge, had appeared in these halls. Perhaps it was the shortness of her kimono, but Arahime could feel hungry eyes upon her.
Mushari led her to a man, around her mother’s age, with green eyes and his red hair streaked with white from an early age. He bowed to him, and then made a gesture towards her. She bowed also, more deeply.
“Morishita-sama, please allow me to introduce my new yojimbo, Kakita Arahime. She has just arrived on the Cormorant from Otosan Uchi” He turned slightly to face Arahime. “Arahime-san, I am privileged to introduce you to the head of the Great House Morishita.”
Arahime’s quick mind raced over the notes that her mother had prepared for her and that she had memorized as she bowed again. Used to be Kitsune. Shugenja. Testy. Has Red Panda spirit. A few other things. “Morishita-sama,” she offered as smoothly as she was able. “It is an honor to meet such a renowned Restorer-of-the-Lands. How are the efforts here in these lands going?”
The Shugenja cocked his head thoughtfully, looking the girl up and down. “Well,” he offered Mushari. “She’s more polite than the last one. That is something, I suppose.” He turned to address Arahime directly. “We’ve reclaimed about as much of the jungle as we can, barring help from the Emperor, which we’re not going to get. Naturally. But it is polite of you to ask.” He rubbed the short beard he wore. “You look familiar to me. Do you have family from the Colonies?”
Arahime darted an uncertain glance towards Mushari, who stepped in smoothly. “She is the daughter to a Crane poet. Kakita Kyoumi. I believe she wrote a sequence of stories that was quite popular here about six years ago called the ‘Journey of the Woodpecker?’ Delightful tales.”
Lord Morishita acknowledged the name, but Arahime could not help but think the man’s smile looked rather awkward. “Well, we shall see if your new yojimbo can outstrip her predecessors in honor, Mushari-san.” He gave a small bow to both and departed.
Mushari watched him go thoughtfully.
There were other introductions, a whirlwind. Some of the names she had memorized previously, some she had not but did her best. All were older men and women, similar in age to Mushari. The last introduction, made towards the end of the day, was the Warlord himself.
The scrolls Arahime had studied had described the Warlord’s heritage, part Ivinda, part Moshi from the days before the colonies had received their independence, part son of Yoritomo, born from the Scorpion, adopted child of the Son of Storms. He was a slender, tall man, with dark, dark skin, even darker than Harun’s, with long gray hair and odd, gaijin eyes that evaluated her like the Master Gardener would take the measure of a new tree taking root in his garden. Like a man trying to decide if this tree should be uprooted or fostered. She bent knee properly, keeping in perfect alignment with her charge, though adjusting for her lower station.
The Warlord’s expression was cool. “Welcome to Second City. I hope you have the chance to enjoy all that we have to offer.”
The words were neutral, but it sounded like an instruction. “I look forward to it, Arashi-sama.” Equally neutral, but eager to please. That should work.
The Warlord then made a gesture, and a much younger man, much the same in appearance as the Warlord, stepped forward. He was only a year or two older than Arahime herself. He too had long black hair in a flowing tail and dark, dark skin, though his eyes were not as wide and gaijin. She could feel those eyes running over her. He was wearing a loose-fitting kimono of teal silk that showed off his muscular chest. The younger man bowed politely. “Allow me to introduce my only grandson, Seiho-kun,” the Warlord offered.
Arahime bowed back towards the younger man. Once again, she felt very self-conscious as the eyes of the court turned upon her, and could draw no sense of intent from the Warlord’s beast-eyes. “I am honored to meet you, Seiho-sama.”
The Warlord’s grandson smiled, his white teeth flashing. “I find myself jealous of old Mushari-san, that he may spend so much time basking in this radiance. I hope he would not object if I pluck a few small moments of your time to introduce you to the wonders of Second City.” His voice was smooth and charming and altogether too forward.
Arahime felt an instinctive pang of immediate loathing which she managed to keep from her face. This may not be in my duties, but I must not be rude. Maybe a polite refusal? “Surely you would be too busy to act as guide for a simple yojimbo such as me.”
“Is that not the lesson of the Crane that time spent in the presence of great beauty is never wasted?” Seiho seemed pleased with his cleverness in the response.
Oh no. He’s taking it as a gift. Now there was no getting out of it. Arahime tried to keep her voice neutral as she answered, “There is such great beauty in these lands already, bright colors and vivid sights. I am plain and pale in comparison.”
“Ah, but half the beauty of these flowers are in their exotic nature, and here, you are a rare bloom. I would be honored to be seen in the presence of such a rarity.”
Arahime’s bow helped her conceal her frustration. The Arashi was greater rank than her; she had little choice anyway. “I would be happy to see these exotic sights then, if Mushari-sama finds opportunity to grant me leave, Seiho-sama.”
She could hear the faint sound of tittering from behind her, where a number of the other younger courtiers stood with their fans raised. On being dismissed, she straightened and turned, but the laughter stopped as she turned to face them. But she could feel the eyes of many upon her. Evaluating her, judging her, weighing her as an ally, obstacle or threat.
On the way out of the door, she and the ambassador were intercepted by one of the young women of the court, wearing the mons of the Ota family.
“Oh, Mushari-sama, please let us welcome your new yojimbo,” the courtier said. “It looks like she will be so popular....and terribly...exotic. I am sure many of the young men of the court cannot wait to enjoy some time in her presence. And the rest of us cannot wait to find out how closely she resembles all we have heard of the legendary beauties of the Crane.”
The woman’s words were perfectly effusive and polite, but her inferences hit Arahime like a blow. How dare they? But Ambassador Mushari just nodded and smiled without responding, leading Arahime away while she focused on maintaining her On.
More eyes followed her on the way out. She straightened her back and tilted her chin up. Ignore them. Focus on your duty, Arahime. Serve.
