Gloria Oliver (21 page)

He knew the moment he’d been dreading was almost upon him. Against his will, he found his eyes rising to face his doom.

“Your services were only to be required for guiding us here and, if necessary, to retrieve the kettle from the temple if we could not. After you had guided us back to the coast, it had been my intention to return you to your former home.”

He tried not to breathe, tense as he waited for what would come next.

“I had always assumed, due to pride, if you will, that once the object was recovered we would continue on our original journey and complete our mission just as it had been given to us so many years ago,”

Asaka admitted. “The incident on the island, however, has placed these plans at risk.”

Toshi swallowed hard.

“You are able to handle the object, but we cannot. Among us, we don’t have the knowledge necessary to attempt to undo the spell that’s been placed upon it.

“Your service to my family has been invaluable, and I will never forget the price you have already paid in its behalf. Yet, what I would ask of you now will by no means be simple and may ask even more from you than what you’ve already given. Under the worst of circumstances, it might even cost you your life.”

A cold shiver ran down Toshi’s back, but he barely noticed it. His attention was completely focused on what Asaka would say next.

“Our journey was to proceed from the islands back to the coast and from there on to Narashi.”

“Narashi?” Narashi was one of the largest cities in the land. So large it rivaled the capital in Odan.

“Yes, Narashi. A long, difficult journey, but one that must be made.” Asaka fell silent, green light flashing from his eyes. “The burden this would place on you would be considerable. Therefore, the choice of whether or not you will attempt it will be yours to make.

“No repercussions will fall on you if you choose not to try. A debt is already owed you, and time means nothing to us. If you choose not to go, other arrangements will eventually be made.”

Toshi found he couldn’t breathe for a moment.

“The choice is yours, Toshiro,” Asaka stated again. “No honor will be lost if you decide not to go.”

The samurai stood and walked to a stand near the door that held his armor. Toshi followed him with his eyes, dead certain he must have misunderstood what he’d been told.

“You will soon be needed above. I suggest you go and retrieve your instruments.”

Nodding, he rose and headed to the door, his mind numb.

“I will ask for your answer once we come within sight of the bay,” Asaka said from behind him.

Without showing he’d heard, Toshi bowed deeply and then let himself out of the room. Mitsuo was standing in the hallway waiting for him.

He trod back to his room in a daze and retrieved his instruments. He never noticed Miko, who still sat where he’d left her, as she followed him across the room with her eyes. Mitsuo came in after him, staring at him even as he walked over to pick up his blankets.

As he started back toward the door, Mitsuo stopped him and held out to him the boken he’d left behind.

He stared at it as if he’d never seen the thing before. After a moment, he blinked and reached for it, still staring at it as he slipped it through his sash. Without a word, he started toward the door again.

He reached the deck and ignored everyone and everything. With a distracted weariness, he went about getting his first readings of the night. Oblivious to all around him, he finished his calculations and showed their present location to the steersman.

Sitting up at Mitsuo’s insistent prodding, Toshi blinked several times before realizing what was expected of him. He got his things together and shook his head, trying to dispel the unbelievable dream he’d been having. A dream about the samurai!

As he got up, his gaze strayed in Asaka’s direction. He couldn’t help but wonder how his mind could have concocted such strange behavior for the man. That a samurai would give him, a peasant, power over his own fate was preposterous. What could have led him to dream such a thing?

Dismissing it, he brought up his cross-staff. As he did so, the sleeve of his kimono suddenly caught his eye. It was dark blue with light blue waves tipped in silver thread. How could that be? It was the kimono in his dream. With a gasp of dread, he shut his eyes as he swayed slightly. It hadn’t been a dream after all. It had been real.

“Toshiro,” Asaka said.

He stiffened at the familiar voice. Mustering his will, he forced his eyes open and looked back toward the samurai.

“Is there a problem?” Dots of green light flared from Asaka’s mask with an intensity he didn’t like.

“No, sir. Everything’s fine.” Tearing his eyes away from the samurai’s questioning gaze, he forced himself to go on and take his readings. When it was over, sleep took him again.

Each time he was awakened, he hoped the dream would be over. Each time, to his chagrin, he found it wasn’t a dream but reality, and it looked like it would stay that way.

Feeling exhausted, though he’d had no trouble sleeping through the night, he gladly made his way below after being dismissed. Toshi was barely conscious of Mitsuo’s presence as the latter followed him.

Finding Miko waiting for him in his room, he saw his breakfast was already laid out for him. Bowing toward her but saying nothing, he set his basket down in the far corner of the room. He waited patiently for Mitsuo to lay down his covers and then wrapped himself in them. The old samurai shrugged in answer to Miko’s questioning look. Mitsuo left, staring strangely at him.

“Toshi-kun, your breakfast is getting cold,” Miko said.

“Oh.” Glancing at her as if he’d noticed her for the first time, he distractedly reached for the bowl of soup before him.

“How was the sailing tonight?”

“Fine.”

“Did you sleep well?” she asked.

“Yes.” He could feel Miko’s eyes on him, though his never rose to meet them.

“Is something wrong, Toshi-kun?” she asked with a touch of worry.

“No.”

“Have I done something to offend you?” She leaned toward him.

“No.” He began eating in earnest to cut off any further conversation. He maintained his silence even after he’d finished eating. Miko quietly gathered his empty dishes and headed toward the door. She never saw the look of abject misery that followed her out.

He didn’t look up when the geisha returned, but stared instead at the floor. He forced his expression to become blank. He was grateful when Miko didn’t try to talk to him. He did glance up, however, as he came to realize she wasn’t alone. He saw Mitsuo standing before him even as Miko set up her koto in the corner. Toshi got up slowly, his hand on the boken at his side, knowing what was expected of him.

As Miko tuned her instrument, Mitsuo helped him fold back his long sleeves as he told him what maneuvers he wanted to see. Nodding, but never looking straight at his teacher, he got into position. His bruised shoulder protested as he did the necessary quick sweeping movements with his boken. Making himself concentrate, he tried to ignore the burning question that had come to encompass his every waking thought.

He never noticed as Mitsuo came at him from the side. He dropped in two blows.

“You are not concentrating.” Mitsuo’s words were more of an accusation than a statement.

Without comment, Toshi forced himself up and started again where he’d left off. He tried his best to keep his attention on the lesson, but his thoughts just wouldn’t leave him alone. Every time his concentration lapsed, Mitsuo would deftly step forward and drop him with just one or two blows.

Trying to use his new pains as a reminder, he tried again to push all things from his mind, leaving only his concentration on his movements. He fared a little better after that.

“Time for lunch,” Miko said.

Toshi brushed some loose strands of hair from his face, hoping it wasn’t a trick of some kind. Glancing toward the door, he saw Miko was, indeed, coming in with food. He bowed toward Mitsuo, hoping to be dismissed, and breathed a sigh of relief as the bow was returned. Moving with a slight limp, he grabbed his blankets and sat down.

His body hurt, yet he felt good. He no longer felt as tired as he had when he’d awakened. He smiled as Miko passed him a cup of tea. Drinking it fast, despite the burns it left on his tongue, he also reached for some fish. He felt unusually hungry.

“You look as if you feel better, Toshi-kun.” Miko sounded happy.

He glanced up at her for a moment before returning all of his attention back to his food.

“Perhaps Mitsuo-san ought to be working you harder.”

He choked on the piece of fish he was swallowing. He glanced around to see if Mitsuo had heard her comment. It was only then he realized his teacher was gone.

“That really wouldn’t be necessary, Miko-san.”

“Wouldn’t it?” she asked.

He slumped, praying she was just teasing him.

“I have some water heating for you,” she said. “Mitsuo-san graciously decided you should have the afternoon free. There are many games I’d like for us to play today.”

“If you like, Miko-san.”

“Good. You see, you need some loosening up, and I’m just the woman for the job.”

Her light tone made him happy, but her words reminded him of his own problem. Trying not to let it show, he hurried through the rest of his meal.

“Sit right there and rest, I won’t be long,” Miko said.

Left alone, he found it harder and harder to keep his thoughts away from his problem. The same question repeated itself over and over in his mind, with no answer in sight.

By the time Miko returned with his bath water, his mental exhaustion was wearing on him again. He tried to keep his feelings from showing but knew he wasn’t being overtly successful.

He washed his body. After that, Miko offered to wash his hair for him. Having no reason to say no, he nodded and watched her sadly as she retrieved the extra bucket. A new question occurred to him—did she know about the choice Asaka had asked him to make?

He leaned forward as Miko asked, and she undid his ponytail. White strands fell past his face and he shivered, his mind wanting to know how much more might be demanded from him if he decided to go.

But why should he think of going? He had done enough—more than enough. Asaka had even told him so.

He jumped as Miko poured warm water over his bent head. With experienced fingers, she soaped and cleaned his hair. He shivered, still undressed beneath his blankets. The cold seeped into his wet head and deepened the worry and confusion already moving like a maelstrom inside him. He tried to sit still as she first dried and then combed out his hair.

“Which game do you think you’d like to try first?” she asked.

“I really don’t feel like playing any games today.”

“Oh?”

He tried not to look at her as her masked face lowered beside him trying to catch a glimpse of his own.

“Toshi-kun, what’s troubling you?”

“Nothing—” He clamped his mouth shut, not trusting himself to say more without giving too much away.

“You and I both know that isn’t so. Even Mitsuo-san has noticed something is not right.”

“There’s nothing wrong!” He regretted his outburst as soon as the words left his mouth. He kept his lips shut tight and waited for her to press him again. When she didn’t, but only continued combing out his hair, he felt an odd panic flow up inside him. He wanted to ask her questions, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. How was he to tell her of his uncertainty? How could he tell her he might not want to help her gain the freedom she so sought?

He stood, startling the geisha, and walked away, his blankets coiled about his naked form. A need was burning in him, but he didn’t know how to get rid of it. He wasn’t even sure he wanted to get rid of it. No one of his station had ever been meant to bear so much. He was only a peasant!

He turned around and stared at her. She sat absolutely still, gazing at his tortured face.

“Why, Miko-san,
why
? I don’t understand why.”

“‘Why’ what, Toshi-kun?” Her voice was a whisper. Soft blue light shone in her eyes.

He twisted away, feeling his confusion and near despair trying to overwhelm him.

“From what you said before, I had understood my time with you wasn’t over, that my services would still be needed. And I had expected what he said. I’d known all along what he would say.” His words came out in a rush. “But, Miko-san, he didn’t order me to do it. He didn’t tell me what he wanted so I would do it, as all servants must. He—he
asked
me! He wants
me
to make the choice. I don’t understand it, and I can’t. I
can’t
!” He doubled over, his own words causing a pain inside him.

“Toshi-kun, don’t you realize the honor that’s been given to you? The freedom?” she asked him.

“According to our ways, you are his, body and soul. He could just have ordered you to go on this journey, and you would have had to comply. Instead, he’s given you a choice, a freedom many of us never get, a chance to choose your own path. The freedom to make your own life.”

Miko appeared at his side, though he never heard her move.

“I don’t see how I’m free. I can’t choose!” He felt ill. How could she believe this was freedom?

“You must choose, and you will,” she insisted. “Go with what your heart tells you. Don’t think of us, think of yourself.”

He looked up at her in confused horror, his face puffed and tear-streaked. “How can I think of myself?

You’re all damned! I would make me go if I were in your place. Why should I have my own way? Don’t you want to be free?”

Miko reached out and caressed his flushed face. “What an enigma you are sometimes. Such selfless naivity” she said. “It just doesn’t fit our times.”

He could only stare at her. Her words only helped add to his confusion. “Miko-san, I don’t understand.”

Her hand tenderly traveled past his cheek to his shoulder. She grabbed his blankets and pulled forward.

He fell with a small gasp, and before he knew it he was wrapped in her arms. Though he tried hard to pull away, she wouldn’t let go of him.