Letter

Lord Utani folded his arms. "And, if that is settled, I believe that will be all for today."

The lords nodded assent, the scribes relaxed, and a degree of ease returned to the chamber. Most  of the lords said their by-your-leaves and strode off to their rest. I, on the other hand, stared into my pages. I needed to check everything that I'd written, make sure that I wasn't handing anything mistaken in, but the characters were all running together. I skipped in and out of loom-time, into gray daydreams that had neither form nor meaning.

You could say that I should have slept a little more, but I'm sure you'd just get a dirty look in response.

It came in words and strings, and I cleared two pages without a single miss, then three. I was aware to some extent that the room was becoming quiet, but it was something that I could not summon the energy to do aught but notice at the lowest level.

On my fourth page, I received a shock. "Sir Kaneru, I think you can stop for tonight."

My head shot up, and I realized that only myself and Lord Utani were in the room. He sat properly from the waist down, but leaned on his thumb and forefinger, elbow on his little table. He looked at me and smiled.

That smile was unnerving me. "I'm sorry, my lord. I have no ex-excuse." 

He chuckled in response and set down his hand. "You misunderstand me, Sir. I mean to say that your opposite's record is sufficient. I do not think that you absolutely need to check the whole of your record."

He had told us the reasoning for having two scribes before - one as a check on the other - but it still stung a little. That sting, though, was salved a bit by my no longer having to struggle under the tyranny of my own strokes. I got my papers into order. Before I could stand, he spoke again.

"It is perhaps an impropriety on my part, but may I ask you to do something?"

I was a little too eager to respond. "Of course, my lord."

From his table he produced a single sheet of paper, rolled tightly and bound with a ribbon in Utani blue, and held it out in my direction. I left my proper seat and retrieved it. The ribbon was somewhat difficult to untie - whoever had tied it had done so to secure the sheet rather than ornament it. I unrolled it, and was immediately struck by the run of the feminine hand printed within.

"To my Lord Husband -" was as far as I got before I recoiled. There was nothing else to say. This was addressed in a wife's hand and with a wife's style. Without thinking, I looked up, but Lord Utani still gave me that smile that knew where it was and that I did not.

"I know what you're thinking, but this letter is mine to show. You may, of course, return it, if that is your prerogative, but please continue if you are curious."

Do I continue?

>No

I rolled the paper back into its tube and tied the ribbon about it into a very loose knot. "Forgive me, my lord. I know that this is yours to show, but the bond between husband and wife is... it would be improper for a mere servant to intrude upon it."

His frown neither disappointed nor confused; rather, it was pensive. "Is that so? Forgive me for imposing on you, in that case."

I bowed, and went to go retrieve my papers.

>Yes

I had heard that Lord Utani had a tendency, once the doors were closed and only confidantes were around, to do some odd things. I figured that this may have been one of them, and that it couldn't hurt to take him at his word.

"Forgive my hesitance, my lord. I shall continue."

He raised his hand as a sign to go on. I began to read again.

"To my Lord Husband -


The ocean has released her warmth once again; the sprigs of grass are beginning to press up. I believe that the smallest flowers will have bloomed once you have read this. Nobutada is well, though he had a brief flash of fever almost immediately after you left. Please put my heart at ease and tell me that you shall write to him upon his fifth-year ceremony, I am sure that will mean the world to him. It is almost the season for cleaning, but I believe that I shall give the servants a little more time to dally, since the spring is looking to be as pleasant as the winter.


I do not mean to dissipate this tranquil air with my petty concerns, but our household is still having the issue of which we have spoken before. It is getting to be beyond the bounds of propriety.  Lord Hotate has expressed his desire to confer with you on the matter.


It would please me to no end to receive a letter from you.


-Sachiru


The yellow petal
falls first, fluttering
a nearby rustle"


I rolled up the letter as gentle as could be and returned it to its owner's hands.

"Now that you have finished, why do you think I have allowed you to do this?"

I thought for a bit, and an answer was able to come to me. "You wanted me to understand you a little more about you."

He nodded and made his pensive frown again. "Correct, but I also wanted to impress upon you my own objective. I know you are not yet married, and so you do not have my vantage. I was hoping that this would help you to understand the manner in which I act."

I gave the medium body-bow. "Of course, my lord. Thank you for this opportunity."

He placed the letter inside of his sleeve and smiled.

Reach

(Another potential 'late practice' scene.)

Evening practice again, but tonight Mitsube was out, to the surprise of only a few people. Of the acquaintances I had, the only one who was currently present was Mr. Matsuzono, and he had proved to be difficult to approach on our breaks.

I figured I'd try again, since I seem to have acquired a nasty inability to shut up while on this journey. Weapons seemed good.

"So, ah... how did you take a liking for the spear?"

"The sword is... the sword is, is the weapon of a warrior. The spear is a weapon of war." He rushed as he said it.

"That's... an interesting quote. Who said that?"

For a full few seconds, he tried to speak, but he caught himself every time. In time, though, he let out, "I did."

"So that's not someone else's quote?" I asked, and regretted it a moment later, when Buichi stiffened at the question.

"Y-yes. Er, ah, well, no. Well, it is something that I came up with. Alone."

... frankly, I'd never seen him this way. I didn't have the heart to tease him on purpose. "So, it's something like, the spear is more..." I couldn't figure out how to finish that.

He'd regained his composure. "When you are on the field, the spear is the stronger weapon." He walked away a few steps and held his practice spear out, giving me about half a body's length between me and the tip. "Make as if you had a blade and try to approach."

I felt a little silly without the weight, but I did as I was bid.... and was promptly 'stuck' in the chest despite my attempt to dodge.

"Again." I sidestepped the first thrust, but to my surprise, Mr. Matsuzono pushed the shaft of the spear against me, and with his strength, began to force me from my line. By the time I had taken three steps forward, he had pushed me five to the side, and I had lost all momentum. Matsuzono backed off a few more paces, and I could feel the false blade drag against my back. Which confused me until he stepped once more and jabbed the blade under my armpit.

"Again!" Did he laugh a little, at the end there? I rushed forward, having forgotten my fatigue. His first thrust was too slow, though I wondered if that was by design. I moved in at a slight diagonal to absorb whatever swipe he thought to mak-

-which turned out to be a low and rather fierce sweep. It caught my right foot as it descended, lifting it back up again and causing my other knee to buckle with a thud as it struck the floor. I fell to my side.

I stumbled to my hands, too shocked to let the little pain get to me, and realized that Mr. Matsuzono's hand was before me, ready to be grasped. I took it.

"In a sword fight, it is your training against mine, your luck against mine, your nerve against mine. Swordfighting is a battle between equals. If you have a sword and I a spear, all of your training, luck, and nerve is irrelevant for those first seven feet, so long as my training remains intact."

"And if we each have a spear?"

"But why would you have a spear, since you clearly have hardly held one?" He laughed, as did a few lollygaggers who had started paying attention to us. I suppose even he had to have a moment of wit.

I laughed a little myself, but inside, a thought began to prick at me. I'd never thought to pick up the spear again, and I couldn't tell myself why. It felt silly compared to a sword. The forms were simpler as well, and... well, were they? I couldn't remember. I just remember being so excited on my seventh birthday, getting my first real practice sword, and wanting to practice with it.

"I have disrupted our harmony, Mr. Shitetsu."

I shook myself awake. "No, no, that isn't the case at all!" I straightened up. "I was... ah, well, I was, just wondering why I had been using a sword all this time, and had neglected all else but the bow."

He took this in and nodded. "It is the case that there are many more Ginga here than Utani. Perhaps it is a matter of our fiefs' experiences. But there are advantages to using the sword. A spear can neither be wielded from horseback nor in a small room."

"Or on a boat," I said, having regained a small bit of face.

He stared at me for a moment before letting out a tentative 'yes'. Before I could ask him anything further, Master Maedai called us to practice.

Spearmen

(Think I like the idea of having a 'status marker' for Buichi and Mitsube as well, though I think it will probably be less constrictive than the 'page marker'. The 'page marker' would preclude the 'evening practice marker', since they both occur in the evening. Am assuming that this one requires an 'evening practice marker'.)

 I don't remember the last time my arms had hurt like this. It was getting to the point that I could sometimes no longer feel anything in them but the grip of my practice sword, and even there all that was telling me was that I was holding it too tightly. Some poor bloke had already received a flung hilt to the back yesterday, and Master Maedai had rapped me on the head with his guard for my trouble.

I'd lost all my spars today as well, which irritated me to no end. Hopefully I hadn't allowed too much of that to leak out. I didn't want it to beat me, but it was hard not to cheat. There were points where I couldn't get my sword up in time if I swung it all the way down.

The worst, though, was the spar I'd just had. I don't even remember what he looked like - just some normal-sized shifting thing with the long thing pointed at me that I was trying to avoid. He knocked away my shapeless attempts at bringing pressure or even holding my ground, then half-gently knocked me again in the head when my blade was on the ground.

Perhaps it was for the best, but I couldn't even tell if he was annoyed or pitying me or any of the other reactions that would have irritated me further. At least it was over for now, and there was a longer break before the final practice. Perhaps something could clear my head.

Or maybe it might end up worse and drive me to quit. I was at the point where the only comfort was in finding out.

The cool of the evening was nice, though my lungs were hurting by the time I'd returned to the keep for my meal of fish soup, noodles with fermented black beans, and chilled pickled plums.

I was feeling a bit better when I got back to the practice hall, though I was surely showing off my aches by the time I got to Mitsube.

"Oi, you look worse than you did yesterday. Are you sleeping?"

I kind of drifted for a second. I knew the answer, but it wasn't quite coming out. "Yes, actually, once I get used to 'it'."

He smiled a bit at 'it', and his eyes brightened up from that point. "Ahhhh, haha. Yes. Yeah, 'that''s a thing. You aren't thinking about quitting, are you?"

I made a show of waving him off, though I felt the pang of knowing that I had. "No, no. I'm just not where you all are."

"Mm, well," and here he put on a smile, "You know what they say about the old men and the ocean."

We talked a little more, and it made me feel a lot better. Perhaps it was speaking with a friend that I had missed out on yesterday. Did I even remember that in my haze? But it passed in a flash, and like the lightning it appeared to be, the thunder came afterward.

After Master Maedai's call to action, we'd split into two groups - swordsmen on the left, the ones who took up spears on the right. Before I could go to do that, however, a rough hand took me by the collar and held me in place.

"Hey, don't go anywhere yet. I had an idea." Mitsube turned me around and shoved a practice spear against my chest. I had to scramble to keep it from falling.

I kind of shifted it around a bit. "Wait." I looked at it as if I didn't know what it was. "Wait. This thing's heavier than the practice sword."

He raised an eyebrow. "How can you be sure? Pick it up."

I did, expecting my arms to scream... but it wasn't too bad. I readied it, which did hurt a little, and gave it a weak little thrust. My muscles were as heavy as ever, but the pain was close to gone, except at both edges of the thrust.

Mitsube was laughing. "When was the last time you picked up one of these?"

I set the spear's butt down and stared into space for a moment. "I suppose... it must have been during my tenth year. I tried a little after getting my first sword, but as I had to do it on my own time, I never had the motivation like I did with the sword."

He nodded. "Well, I figured it might help you out a bit. Come on over to our side - it's never too late to get reacquainted." He turned, and I followed. As we approached Buichi, he had to blink the assumption out of his eyes. I liked that second where he was no longer quite as stony.

"The evening is good, Mr. Shitetsu. I was not aware that you practiced with the spear as well."

I decided not to shrug, given my current condition. "I don't, or at least I didn't. I figured I'd give this a try."

He nodded, and we all got into position.

Information You Do Not Strictly Need to Know

FUCK MOVING

Sweet Tooth

I picked the jar of raspberry syrup off the tray. The neck had a muddle of sticky fingerprints on it, which made me wince internally. The reward was worth it, however. I watched as it spread, viscous and dirty-red, down the little canyons in my bowl of crushed ice until it pooled in the bottom. We were using soup spoons to eat our little delicacy, though we had to take care not to eat too much in any given bite.

It was good. The raspberry juice had been held a little bit before the sweetening, and gave off a little twinge of vinegar to set against the syrup's sugar. It was just getting warm enough and dry enough to enjoy the ice, as well.

Mitsube had a concoction that I wasn't sure of - apparently it was the oil of some seed not native to Joukagoku that I'd already forgotten the name of. He'd offered me a smell of the jar when he was describing it, but it was far too cloying for my tastes.

"Do you know what today is?" asked Mitsube, as he popped another spoonful of amber-colored ice into his mouth.

I hadn't the faintest idea, and I told him that.

"Other than the date, me neither."

"Why'd you ask, then?"

"I was just wondering if there was a way I could justify eating this today...." I opened my mouth to speak, but he cut me off with "For fun, of course."

"Wouldn't that be it, then? For fun?"

"Of course not. That's no fun at all."

I pushed a spoonful of ice off to my cheek, letting it melt while I spoke. "Take care not to suck the fun out of it by looking too hard."

We laughed and continued to eat.

The Whipping Post (Part I)

What is history?

Not the bit about the dates and the times and the men. That bit's plain enough. Rather, I meant to ask about the lessons that history teaches, and how I can apply them in my daily life. I know all the stories - from Niman taming the Wolf-King to the Old Ginga's positive eccentricities. But something about that progression always bugged me - it seemed that the more recently you focused in the tale of our race, the muddier the issues we had faced became. Niman became king because he was not a barbarian, because Ascendant-from-the-Ocean chose him. His path was as a brilliant light, of course, but the choices that he made consisted of things that we would consider today to be simple. Kings fight for their people. Farming is superior to savagery. The gods are to be heeded.

Did Niman struggle with these things as much as our ancestors struggled with deciding whether to follow or oppose the Amaguro? The questions then were magnitudes more complex - had the gods abandoned the Long Imperial Line, or was this a test of their faith? When it became clear that the empire would come into the hands of the Amaguro and their allies, which would be preferable - death, demotion, disgrace, or defeat? There were legitimate cases for all four, and in the age where people wished for the return of the Old Family, there was an energetic debate over options that had been taken over a century ago.

If Niman had his share of struggles, did he equivocate and murmur, as we did? Or was he able to strike for the perfect solution at its first opportunity, as the histories tell us? If so, what did that say about us? From the canonization of the gods through the formation of spirits to the accession of demigod kings to the clash of great heroes all the way to the scheming and decadence of today, the histories tell us that man is on a never-ending descent, a fall into the shaft of Hell that can only be slowed by gripping painfully to the thin rope of social order. And yet, the histories tell us that Niman had thirteen knights and eight thousand soldiers. There were twenty-three thousand knights and twelve million people throughout Joukagoku at the last census. Was that not progress, a flowering of our people, a sign of proper stewardship?

Or were we just frightened of disassociating ourselves from the examples we had known had always worked?

I could do nothing but ask these questions to myself over the next few days. I also began to wonder if associating with Mitsube had unduly colored my thoughts.

***

The morning was cloudy, but surprisingly warm. The little islands of sky in between the great oceans of clouds were a striking blue, greater in hue than lapis lazuli. Clouds rushed eastward, river-like, covering and uncovering the sun at irregular intervals.

I'd hardly noticed it until afterwards, however.

It was noisy in the halls when I'd woken up. Boys and men stood by doors, poked their heads out of doors, many of them yelling excitedly and trampling downstairs in their bed gowns or light gowns that they had just changed into. I heard "in the forest", "dead", "Ginga man", "Sugimura".

More than ten doors down from me, two men came to blows. An enormous man who I recognized as Ginga threw another man into a sliding door, snapping it in half. There was a roar, and other men from both parties threw themselves between the attacker and the man on the ground.

I went inside to get my light robe on and came back out. The crowd surrounding where the pushing had taken place had shrunk, but men were still there, split into the two camps, arguing. I caught sight of a man who I knew was Utani and asked him what was going on.

"There's a rumor going about - it seems that some Ginga fool killed Sugimura Rashou out in the woods. Or something. I've heard it was a duel, or a peasant's fight, or an ambush, and nobody knows who started it."

The warmth and, I am assuming, the color drained from my face. It would seem that the 'fellowship' portion of our meeting had taken a swipe from a knife. "D-do they know who did it?"

As I was asking, a man had been shoved out of the ring and the crowd became rowdy again, and this time nobody blocked him from jumping back in again to grapple with the man who'd pushed him. The crowd swelled again.

The man with whom I'd been speaking moved into the near-empty stairwell and motioned for me to follow him. "I've heard a bunch of names, but the one I've heard the most is Seto Hirohiko. Do you know anything about him? I don't."

I shook my head. "I've heard his name before, but that's all."

"Then that's all I know for the moment. Do you know Hatasegawa Yoshio?"

I nodded this time. "I've spoken to him before. I have not seen him in the hall yet, however."

The man frowned and nodded, having expected my answer. "Alright. Hopefully they'll clear something up here soon, and hopefully none of these damn Ginga try to pick fights with us beforehand. Try to have a good day."

"Mm, thanks," I said. I bowed and headed down the stairs. As I approached the keep's entrance, I saw a blue-coated retainer and a green-coated retainer on guard. They had ordered men who were leaving to come in close and listen to what they had to say before letting them out. As a result, I'd heard it by the time they got to me. It was being investigated by Lord Kemawari and Lord Zaitsu, and we would know more when the results of that investigation was announced. In order to prevent anything more untoward than the occasional scrap from happening, we were being kept inside the castle walls for now.

That suited me fine. I just wanted to get some air.

***
((Chariotnote: Here, the path splits. If you are Nobuhisa's page, you join in on the emergency meeting. If you aren't Nobuhisa's page, then you continue on to Part II.))

... You Always Remember New Things

Like that Joukagoku might be too cold for rice production. I might have to change all of the instances of 'rice' to 'noodles', unless I either figure out what the Main Land's climate is like, or can conjure up an excuse for there to be an aristocratic 'rice culture' that can afford to import rice from Southland.