"Heart Of Darkness"
By Amanda Swiftgold

Part Two: To Serve

       His world consisted of the rears of horses and the tired ache of his feet. He could no longer feel the scrapes of the rocks on his heels or the dull heat of the dirt that stuck to his soles. His soft leather shoes had been taken from him with the rest of his old clothes, and there had been no sandals small enough to replace them. He would have to wait until they arrived in Tsuchi to find shoes, as well as truly rest his feet.
      Cale trudged along as well as he could, trying to keep up with the train of warriors, servants, and messengers that followed General Asae. Every little thing seemed to annoy him now, from the way the rough hemp of his robe itched his skin to the way the soldiers and other servants spoke.
      No one had spoken so rudely around him before, and certainly not to him. But he knew that demanding they stop would gain him derision at the least, and blows at the worst. The servants were relishing the opportunity to intimidate a former superior, and he was dreading the bullying he knew he would suffer at his new home.
      He was nothing now. But it was hard to get used to that fact.
      As he stumbled along, unused to such exertion, he quickly fell far behind the group. It was only when he came upon an older boy standing in the middle of the trail, removing a rock from a horse's hoof, did he realize just how far back he was. Cale recognized the boy as one of Captain Yagiyu Rinoki's servants, and sighed. There was no getting around him.
      The boy looked up and, upon seeing Cale, grinned nastily. "Hey, it's the slowpoke," Joji sneered, glancing up from his precarious work on the hoof. "Is the poor little baby samurai not used to walking? Does he need a kick in the pants to help speed him up?"
      He frowned back. "No, I don't."
      The stableboy finally extracted the rock and tossed it to the side, setting the horse's hoof back to the ground. He straightened out and swaggered up to Cale confidently, coolly flicking strands of his blackish-red hair away from his face. "That's not how you should speak to me, you pile of dung."
      "No, I don't, Joji," he repeated obstinately, stressing the other boy's name when he knew it was not what he wanted. "Now let me by so I can catch up!"
      With a sudden movement Joji let loose with a punch to his shoulder. Cale winced but forced himself not to cry as his shoulder muscles ached at the blow. He had, after all, been hit with worse.
      "Gonna hit me back?" the stableboy taunted. "Didn't think so. Now, you're gonna carry my pack. What do you say to that, huh?"
      He scowled, wanting more than anything to refuse, but knowing he had no authority to do it. "Yes, Joji," he replied with his head lowered, getting in one last dig.
      "Yes Joji what?" he snapped, raising a fist again.
      "Yes, Joji, sir!" Cale shouted angrily.
      Joji snickered and handed over his pack to the reluctant boy. "Drop it and I'll take it out of your hide," he warned, returning to the horse and taking up its reins. He led it down the path far faster than Cale could walk, leaving him to fume, left behind again.
      "You… you asshole!" he yelled after the other boy was too far away to hear. Immediately after, out of habit, he looked around to make sure Tama hadn't heard him swearing.
      Tama's dead, he told himself, sighing and forcing his feet to move onward. But that didn't stop him from silently apologizing anyway.

      Shouts were heard from the head of the train, and slowly the entire line of people drew to a stop. Cale, having finally caught up with the rest of the people, tried desperately to peer over the heads of all the others in front of him, but to no avail. Everyone's sitting down to rest... I guess they thought we were getting tired. I sure am...
      He could see that something was happening up ahead, however. Knowing better than to ask what was going on, he tiptoed off the path on the pretense of relieving himself. Creeping low through the trees, he drew near to the head of the party and watched, hopefully unseen. He couldn't hear a word, but he could see the general and his aide Matsuyama walk off together down a small trail that led into the stand of trees off to the side.
      What's down there? he wondered, trying to see through the limbs and leaves where the trail went. He couldn't see a thing except a small trail of smoke that drifted upward from wherever they must have been. Cale's curiosity threatened to consume him, but he made himself wait, hiding listlessly behind the trees until the two men returned, and the group of soldiers and servants began their march again. He knew no one would miss him, at least for a while. He was going to find out why they had stopped.
      As the dust settled behind the feet and hooves, the boy slowly emerged onto the road and looked both ways down it before running down the small trail that led into the trees. It didn't go very far before stopping at a faded red wooden torii gate. "A shrine," he said to himself, "that's why we stopped, to pray." He could remember one of the few times he had traveled with his father, and they had always visited every local roadside shrine. Had he ever been to this one? He couldn't remember.
      Cale hesitantly slipped past the slightly peeling painted gate, hoping he wouldn't be struck down from above for doing so. When nothing happened, he continued on, breathing a sigh of relief. He walked slowly down the rest of the path, eyes taking in the surroundings. He could tell that the shrine was old, its wood worn and the surrounding trees grown close. But someone took some care of it, and it would not collapse any time soon. Whoever took care of it didn't seem to be there at the moment, however, and this gave him courage enough to go in.
      The sweet, pungent smell of recently burned incense met his nostrils, remnants of his masters' visit to this place. The shrine was home to two deities of war, and he knew they had been here to pray for victory. He frowned, wondering if the gods would mind if someone like himself prayed to them, even if he didn't have any money to put in the donation box.
      "Go on," a deep, friendly voice said softly behind him, and Cale spun around in shock. A monk stood before him, his eyes covered by his triangular hat, long straight white hair flowing from underneath it. The golden rings on the man's shakujo jingled softly as he took a step toward the boy.
      "I'm sorry, sir," he cried, bowing his head and then suddenly remembering his new place and falling to his knees. He bowed low to the ground, hoping the monk wouldn't get angry with him. "I'll leave right away!" He began crawling backwards, the packed dirt floor scraping his knees.
      The man's voice filled with kindness, and even a little sadness, as he looked down at the boy. "You can stay, young Cale. This place is for all who care to visit it."
      He looked up, blinking in confusion. "My… name… how did you know it?" He wished he could see what the monk looked like under the large hat he wore. His face wasn't wrinkled, but his hair was so pale… Is he a spirit? Is that how he knew? I don't even know that name yet, not really.
      When the monk said nothing, Cale steeled himself and said again, "Ancient one? Sir? Are you a spirit? Please don't cast a spell on me, I didn't mean to disturb you…"
      "Ancient one…" he repeated faintly, laughter in his voice. "That is something I have not yet been called, though I am ancient indeed. No, I am not a spirit, young one, and I will not harm you. What is it you seek here?"
      "I need to pray for my parents," he whispered, "so that their souls aren't stuck in between this world and the next. My mother, she… she wasn't…" His voice caught on something, and he couldn't force it to say what he was trying to. "But maybe it won't do any good, because I was a coward… I was a coward and now I'm nobody…" He let his head touch the ground again, this time not wanting to bring it back up. He sat that way for a moment until he felt the touch of a hand on his shoulder. A very real, very solid hand.
      He whipped his head back up and twisted around to see behind him. The man straightened, but even looking up Cale still could not see under that hat. The monk smiled. "You needn't worry about your worthiness, child. Go on. The gods will listen."
      "Thank you, sir," he breathed, getting up to his knees. He waited a moment for the strange monk to leave, but when he didn't move, Cale swallowed heavily and moved toward the statues, unsure of what procedures to follow. At home, his parents had always used big, long chants that he didn't know. I hope they'll listen anyhow, because I need a lot of help.
      He cleared his throat, clasping his hands together. "Homage to Amida Buddha," he whispered in a self-conscious rush. That was how they always started. But he was suddenly aware that the monk behind him looked like a Shinto one, and he didn't want to make him mad. "Homage to all the other gods too," he added, his face flushing. The white-haired monk was silent, and so he continued, eventually forgetting that he was even there.
      "Please bless the souls of my parents," he said, "and all my ancestors. And, if you can, please bless me. Because I'm kind of in trouble. I'm not really the same anymore… I'm Cale now, and that means I can't even ask you to help me avenge my father and my mother. That's why that General Asae took my name away… but I'm going to make him give it back. I'm gonna… gonna make him eat his own heart!"
      As soon as the words fell from his lips, the boy paused and spun around, afraid that the monk was going to reprimand him for saying things he had no right to say. There was only silence, however, and so he turned back a bit sheepishly and went on.
      "It's probably wrong to say that, though maybe you won't think so 'cause you're war gods and all. But, there's still something I don't understand. Back when I was a little kid--" Cale cut himself off suddenly. "Maybe it wasn't that long ago. But it feels like a long time. A barbarian told me I'd have to choose between evil and death. Is that true? Maybe you could tell me if he was telling the truth, because I don't want to pick like that. He did tell the truth about… about Father. But was he…?"
      He looked down at the hard dirt under his knees; dirt packed down for so long no one would ever be able to tell he'd been there after he left. "Was he?" he asked louder. "He was saying the truth, ancient one. I have to be evil, because I couldn't cut myself. But… evil… I still don't understand!" The boy's voice rose in volume as he spoke, until he found himself sobbing in frustration.
      The hand touched his shoulder again, but he remained still, despite the fact that he wanted to cry into the monk's robes, let him comfort him and reassure him. Cale could not cry like a baby to his mother. Kujuurou could; Kujuurou would let this ancient monk console him. But Kujuurou was dead.
      Cale sniffled away the tears that still hurt his eye and stung his scab. There was no use in crying, but there was use in anger. He would keep that anger and work it, hone it like a fine blade and use it for his revenge.
      His blue eyes glowed with the fire that Asae thought he had bled out of him. Not bled out, no, but merely hidden for a while. He turned and looked up at the monk, whose head inclined ever so slightly at the force of the young child's gaze. "If I'm evil will I get revenge? Can I make him pay for killing my father and making my mother cut herself? If I have to be evil or dead, I guess I'm evil, because I'm not dead. Is that right?"
      The man was silent for a moment. "No, that is not right," he replied finally. "You are not evil; you are a child who unfortunately has to make an evil choice."
      "Then I'm… not evil?" he murmured. Does that mean I'm dead? No, Cale thought, catching sight of his own hands that were lying in his lap. He lifted one up to look at, moving it to different angles, pondering it. I'm not dead and this is not a dream. This is my hand... this is real. It is happening. I'm not a dream, I'm real... this is real...
      "If I'm not evil and I'm not dead, then am I good? Or is there an in-between? You're a monk so you're probably good, though there are probably bad ones too. Can you tell me what I am?" he asked, pausing in his meditative perusal of his hand. There was no response; in fact, there was no one else in the room at all.
      Cale got to his feet, frowning. Uh-oh, I think I talked too much. I hope he's not going out to get a switch to beat me for being insolent... he thought, remembering just that day narrowly avoiding that fate. It wasn't his fault his forehead didn't touch the ground as General Asae passed. He just wasn't used to that kind of thing.
      Soft footsteps crunched on the packed dirt outside the shrine, and light armor clinked as a man made his way up the steps. The boy jumped, startled, as the tall form of Matsuyama Kazuo appeared into the shadows of the small room. A moment later, new reflexes took over and he bowed, kneeling yet again.
      "There you are," the black-haired man said noncommittally. "I sent for you, and when you couldn't be found I was afraid you'd run off. What are you doing here?"
      He cleared his throat, stammering, "P-praying, sir… for my parents. I didn't t-think I'd be missed… and then the monk came and I forgot what I was doing…" Maybe Lord Matsuyama told him my name, and that's how he knew... maybe he is just a monk after all.
      The warrior frowned. "Monk? There are no monks at this shrine. You can see it is hardly kept up. A traveling one might clean it up a bit, but there have been none in view of our army."
      "As you say, sir," he answered, confused. "I am just a foolish child who sees things." But he was here, really, he touched me and he was not me just 'seeing things'! But I can't tell you that. The blue-haired boy sighed inwardly, wishing he had someone he could talk to, the way he used to be able to talk to his mother, or to Tama.
      "Are you finished with your praying?" the general's aide asked kindly as he changed the subject, a hint of a smile on his almost-young face.
      Cale continued to look down. "I tried to, Lord Matsuyama, but I don't really know how to. I don't think I did it right. But I'm all done now."
      He glanced up quizzically at the man as he knelt down next to him. Matsuyama drew out his dagger and a piece of flint, choosing new incense and lighting it in front of the statues. Without a word to the boy, he launched into a sutra, clasping his hands together. Cale did his best to imitate him without using the chant, trying to understand the words. When the aide finished, bowing, and stood to leave, his new servant followed him, absolutely confused.
      "Did you pray for them too?" he mumbled to himself, remembering to keep from walking on his lord's shadow as they returned down the path.
      "I did," he answered, to Cale's surprise. "I knew your parents well once, young Cale, and their souls should not be left to wander. I know you meant well, but you are hardly versed in the way to go about it."
      He felt tears stinging his eyes again as he stared at the man who had saved his life just two days before. "Thank you, my lord Matsuyama," he whispered softly. "I am not worthy of a master like you."
      The warrior said nothing, but he stopped and let his hand touch the boy's shoulder for a moment, a small smile etching his features. Cale saw his father in the look in the man's eyes, and blinked in astonishment. Then the moment was past, and they were merely master and servant once more.

      He walked next to Matsuyama's horse as they neared the outskirts of the capital of Tsuchi the next day. The boy carried one of his lord's extra packs on his back. Unlike when he carried Joji's things, he was doing his best to make sure nothing got bounced around and broken. His feet were getting used to the trail and the rocks, and when he was here near the general's aide, none of the other servants dared to bother him.
      Happily, he could see from here, and now had a chance to look around at the landscape of his new province. The land was as hilly as his home had been, although both provinces were less mountainous than the rest of the country was. There were fewer trees that he could see as well, and he missed the forests they had been passing through already.
      Then, as they passed over the crest of a hill, there it was. Cale gasped softly as he caught sight of the huge sprawling city on a hill. The thatched roofs of villagers' huts sprinkled the valley outside its walls, and the stately tiled roofs inside shone in the sun. The entire capital was dominated by a gigantic palace-fortress that loomed above everything on the hills' highest reaches.
      Cale stared at the sight, sure that it must be bigger than even his old capital of Kaze. Although he had never been to that city either, he thought that nothing could look grander than the houses and shops laid out before him. "That's Tsuchi," he said aloud. We're finally here! Maybe it won't be so bad after all... it looks so interesting!
      "Yes, Tsuchi, the fortress as strong as the earth itself," Matsuyama said. When the boy looked up at him, surprised at being addressed, he added, "That it how it was named, for the earth. No one has ever taken this city."
      "You live here, sir?" he asked, growing more excited as they grew nearer. It was getting even bigger the closer they came to it. Peasants in their fields looked up as they went by and waved, others coming out of their houses to watch them with interest.
      Matsuyama nodded with a small smile. "I do, along with my wife and daughter. You will see them, briefly, but you will not be expected to serve them. I will have you placed in the kitchen."
      Cale looked down at the ground for a moment. "I understand, Lord Matsuyama." He took a furtive glance at Joji leading Captain Yagiyu's horse before asking, "Could I ever work in the stables, sir?"
      "You might not have an affinity for horses," he replied, distracted as they neared the gates. "All things come with patience."
      He nodded and bowed his head, wanting to talk more but realizing that his lord's distraction meant something important was going to happen soon. Probably have to make sure we can go inside. I don't want to get hit, so I better shut up so I can see what's going on.
      Outside the gate stood a small number of tall stakes, with something on the end of each one. He squinted, trying to make out what they were and why they were stuck there in the ground outside the gate. Asae at the head of the group, not far from where Cale and Matsuyama stood, stopped and conferred with his head captain. He then went over to one of the wagons and removed a box.
      As the boy attempted to see what was going on, the general impaled the contents of the box on a stake and hoisted it into the air. He pressed the other end of the tall piece of wood into the already-made hole in the ground, returning to his horse amidst the cheering of the soldiers.
      Matsuyama did not cheer, instead his frown growing deeper. Cale was bursting with questions he did not dare ask, but suddenly his lord said sharply, "Keep your eyes to the ground, Cale. Do not look anywhere but straight ahead, and do not anger General Asae."
      Why? He simply nodded and resisted the urge to look up as they came closer to the gate. And then, the movement of the entourage stopped, and hooves pounded as the general pushed his way back to where his aide stood. Cale dropped to his knees and bowed, making sure not to look up at the wavy-haired man, impressed by the serious tone that had been in his lord's voice.
      "What is he doing?" Matsuyama murmured almost inaudibly. "General Asae, my lord?" he queried in a louder tone.
      The general ignored him. "Rinoki," Asae said instead, laughter in his voice, "why don't you show the boy my prize?"
      Cale felt himself being lifted in the air by Yagiyu and stifled a surprised cry. The captain's armored hand clenched his chin and cheeks and forcibly pulled his head upward. Unwillingly, the boy's eyes caught on the display of spikes next to the gates, and the grisly array of severed heads that decorated their points. They were the heads of thieves and of defeated enemies.
      And the newest one was his father's.
      He screamed, and Captain Yagiyu dropped him, laughing cruelly. His eyes were locked on the face that used to smile at him. It hardly looked real, the way Masahiro's eyes bulged out, the stringy mess of his hair and the pickled shade of his face. Cale finally whimpered, covering his eyes from the sight and his tears from everyone else.
      "Katsukane," Matsuyama choked out, "I don't think that was necessary!"
      The general's voice hardened. "It was to remind him of his place, Matsuyama. Must I remind you of yours?" He turned his horse back and returned to the head of the group.
      With another amused chuckle, Yagiyu took the reins from Joji and mounted his prized stallion. He looked down once more at the young servant boy huddled on the ground before riding after the general, laughing.
      His master was silent a moment before snapping, "Get up!" Cale found it hard to obey, remaining in the dust. "Get up, I say!" he yelled, and this unusual tone of voice from the man shocked him back to his senses, and he got to his feet.
      "I'm very sorry, my lord," he whispered in a low tone.
      "We need to keep up and enter the city." Matsuyama paused. "I am sorry. What he did was not right. But he is my lord, as I am yours. I must obey him." He picked up the pace, and Cale followed, his shock giving way to anger.
      Before they passed through the huge gates, the boy turned and looked back up at the severed heads, this time calmly. As he turned back to enter the city and his new life, his expression hardened into one of resolve. I will avenge you, Father, if it's the last thing I do. You can count on that, Asae Katsukane. You'd better start watching your back.

      He smiled as he reached a hand out to touch the two parallel slashes in the wood lining the wall near the floor. Cale lay on his mat in the corner of the kitchen-servants' room; his body was still although his mind was wide-awake. Every morning when he opened his eyes he looked at the two slashes, each one marking a year from the day he had been made a servant.
      The morning ritual put him in a calm mood, which was important if he wanted to stay out of trouble. There was so much to do to get meals ready for the inhabitants of the Matsuyama household, not only the morning ones but also for the rest of the day as well. He'd learned the hard way that fooling around and not pulling his share of the work would earn him a beating that was difficult to forget.
      The boy shoved his blanket off and sat up, stretching. He finished dressing and cleaning himself as quickly as possible, for the faster he got his tasks done the more time he'd have to himself later. He ran his hands through the messy mass of his hair, having long ago given up on getting it to remain fashionably straight.
      All that done, Cale hurried to pick up the firewood and get the cooking fires started. This was the part he hated the most, even in winter. As soon as the fires got going, the kitchen began to heat up incredibly. He could hardly stand to be in there and would find some excuse to get outside as soon as he could.
      The wood finally caught the sparks, and he blew on it lightly to get it started. As soon as the fire was going well enough, he left it alone and continued on with the rest of his tasks, soon joined by the head cook and two younger children who also worked in the kitchen. He was grateful for the help they did give, but it seemed to him that they were always getting in the way. He was continually telling them what to do or yelling at them to move so he didn't spill hot tea on them.
      I'm so tired of this kitchen! he growled silently, getting the pot the cook needed and setting it on the table. This is a job for little kids. I want to go to the stables like the other boys... I like horses! I know how to treat them! So why do I have to stay here in this stupid hot room? He wiped a sheen of sweat off his forehead with a sleeve, scowling deeply. The next time one of those idiot little kids got in his way, they were going to regret it.
      "Cale," the cook said with a quick smile on his face. The boy turned to the man and silently accepted the large bowl of vegetable scraps he was given. "Go take these out and get some air."
      "Yes, sir," he replied gratefully, walking for the doorway and out into the cloudy garden. He paused only to sneak a handful of raw meat scraps off the cutting table as well. Just in case.
      Despite the hard work he did, Cale knew his life was not very bad. As long as he did what he was told, he wouldn't be beaten, and as he grew older, he gained more seniority among the staff, and more acceptance. If he was sent into the city on an errand, shopkeepers no longer expected him to steal from them. However, a few of Tsuchi's inhabitants still enjoyed bullying anyone who was younger or weaker than them.
      The worst of these weren't even the other children. Every time he went outside the gates of Matsuyama's large home, he walked in fear of Yagiyu Rinoki's dogs. Large, vicious creatures, they were said to be partly of wolf blood, and were bred for hunting. Even on his lord's grounds, he felt nervous, since there were ways the animals could get in.
      Although the excuse was that they tended to escape their kennels, he was sure that either Captain Yagiyu or the dogs' keeper sometimes allowed them to run free around town. They had killed several young street children already, but since no one of any importance had ever been injured, Yagiyu's dogs were still let loose.
      Cale was determined not to be the next victim of the animals, and so he carried the scraps with him when he could. Also, he had a feeling that they were out today, and nearby. As he walked down the path toward the food garden outside the kitchen, he could almost sense them on the air. They were near… he could smell the unmistakable scent of wet fur and other dog odors. His muscles tensed, and he wished he'd remembered to wear a knife or something. But if I killed one, they would punish me... doesn't matter if it attacked first...
      They would smell the meat he held, he knew. It was good insurance, and he'd only had to use it once before. He quickened his pace to the pungent scrap pile and dumped his bowl out, looking nervously from side to side. Nothing, so far, but he knew they were around. It was just a matter of time. Would he get back to the kitchen fast enough or not?
      Crap! he thought, catching sight of two of them slinking his way. He froze on the path underneath a tree. Where can I go? If I run they'll chase me, they'll think they're hunting... don't look at them in the eyes or they'll attack...
      He slowly let the wooden bowl drop from his fingers as the dogs prowled closer. "Nice dogs," he whispered, raising the hand with the meat. He glanced up at a branch above his head. I can make it if I jump. "Now go get it!" Cale yelled, flinging the meat as hard as he could away from him.
      As the two wolf-dogs instinctively turned and ran to fight each other for the scraps, Cale jumped and his fingers snagged on the bark of the limb above him. He lifted his chin up to the branch, his jaw clenched and his arms shaking. He clung onto it tightly as he lifted up a foot and caught it on the trunk. Swinging the rest of his body up into the tree, he panted heavily for a moment before climbing onto a slightly sturdier branch.
      From his high vantage point, he watched the dogs wander around below. He groaned aloud when he realized that he had effectively treed himself. "I'm in for it now," he muttered. He'd be stuck up in this tree until the animals went elsewhere, and who knew how long that would be? He'd doubtless be beaten for shirking his duties, no matter what he told them.
      Several minutes had passed when he heard a high voice down below. Peering through the branches and blossoms of the tree, Cale caught sight of a girl about his age walking on the path down below. She was singing to herself, dressed in a simple pink robe. Every once in a while she stooped to gather a fallen blossom and tuck it into a basket.
      For a moment, all he could do was stare in shock. She came closer, and he knew he'd met her before. However, he couldn't remember her name, and he knew the dogs were still there. "Hey!" he yelled at her. "Hey you! Girl!"
      Her head lifted and she looked around fearfully, wondering if he were some bully going to harass her. It was then she saw the two dogs coming toward her, and she shrieked, dropping her basket. As she took off running, the animals followed at an easy pace.
      He shook the leaves around him violently, trying to get her attention. "Come up here! Over here! Hey, stupid girl!"
      She changed her course and bolted in his direction, tears wetting the corners of her eyes and her short black hair swinging around her face. He leaned down as far as he could, resting his stomach on the branch. He dangled down his hand but it didn't come far enough. She raised her arms and her fingertips brushed his. She whimpered as she looked behind her, and he tried to lean down farther.
      "Don't look, jump!" he cried, and she turned and did so. The girl's small hand caught up in his, Cale tried his best to pull her up onto the limb along with him. She wasn't very heavy, but he still wasn't very strong, and the way he was balanced, the limb was hurting his stomach. He braced himself with his other hand and pulled as hard as he could.
      The girl screamed as the dogs arrived, and she jerked suddenly below him. He felt himself sliding forward and pushed as hard as he could with his other hand. "Grab… it!" he gritted, and her fingers snagged the branch. She let go of his hand to catch onto it with the other, her breath wheezing past her teeth, and he gasped violently as the pressure was lifted from him.
      As he tried to regain his balance and get back into an upright position, she screamed again. From this angle, he could clearly see her bloody ankle as a dog sunk its teeth into her skin a second time. Frantically kicking, she caught it in the muzzle, her straw sandals not inflicting much damage. The blow dazed it, however, and she used its head as a sort of stepping stool to propel her higher over the bough.
      The second animal's jaws snapped shut on the hem of her robe, and it began to pull backwards. The girl clung tightly to the branch, her hold gradually slipping on the bark. "Help!" she yelled. Cale, shaking the dizziness away, grabbed onto her arm and tried to pull her up. The dog tugged harder, and he yelled as he found himself swinging down and over the other side of the limb.
      "Shit!" he cursed, not caring who heard him as he plunged downward. He caught himself with the backs of his knees, but his breath was still jarred from him. He opened his eyes to the upside-down world, his hands hanging below his head. Cale blinked groggily, and then felt a sudden pain in his left hand. The soft fleshy part of his hand throbbed around the impaling fangs of the dog, and he opened his mouth, his screams joining the girl's sobbing.
      The boy struggled to pull his hand away from the animal, covering his face with his other arm and hoping it wouldn't go for his head. He felt his bare legs, scratched up from the bark and twigs, sliding bit by bit off the bough as the dog began pulling at him. I'm going to fall! No! The girl shrieked again as the wolf-dog pulling on her shook its head, jarring her dangling legs and loosening her grip.
      Cale cried out in pain as his hand was gnawed on. He stared at the dog in front of him, a white fuzz passing momentarily before his eyes. And then the growling from the animal stopped suddenly, and it gave out a whimper that sounded almost surprised. Yagiyu's hunting dog fell over onto its side, the teeth pulling out of his skin, and the boy sniffled, staring at an upside-down Matsuyama.
      There was a sharp twang - he'd never heard the first one - and a second arrow flew through the air and embedded itself into the neck of the other dog. Its painful throes resulted in a violent jerk, which tore the young girl from the limb and tossed her to the ground below. The movement shook the branch and Cale suddenly found himself lying next to the dead dog, in a small puddle of its blood.
      He looked up to see his lord staring down at him. The man was wearing his full armor and swords, his bow now slung onto his back. I didn't think he was even home, Cale thought randomly. Got here just in time...
      "Are you two all right?" Matsuyama asked. He received no response except the muffled tears of the girl also on the ground. The samurai crouched down and inspected her ankle gently. "Don't cry, Yuki," he told her. "Lady Matsuyama will have that bandaged up." He then turned to look at Cale's wound. He held back a whimper of pain as his hand was lifted, and his fingers curled into his palm without him wanting them to.
      The general's aide frowned worriedly for a moment before reaching to lift up Cale and place the boy over his shoulder. He cradled the girl Yuki in the crook of his arm and stood, marching toward the house. Cale could feel the angry set of his shoulders even through the armor.
      "Don't cry," he told them both again. "I will get this all straightened out."
      His head clearing, Cale sat up as well as he could, looking down at the girl. Her green tea eyes, reddened from tears, met his face, and he suddenly remembered her. Her name was Yuki, and she was a maidservant to Lady Matsuyama Nene and her daughter Orino. She had probably been out gathering flowers for her ladies, not knowing the dogs were about.
      She brushed her hair away from her face, sniffling away the last of the tears. "You saved me," she said. "You're…?"
      "Cale," he returned, pulling his wounded hand close to his chest.
      She smiled wanly back at him. "Cale. Thank you for saving me. Lady Orino can fix us up when we get back… she's really good at herbs and stuff."
      "Oh, all right. Lord Matsuyama?" he asked hesitantly. "Are you going to get in trouble for killing the dogs?"
      The man didn't turn his head to look at him, sliding open a door into the house. "That doesn't matter. They should not have been out in the first place, and they were on my property. I will deal with that."
      "Yes, sir," Cale answered, looking around curiously at the painted wood and paper walls, the hangings and screens decorating the inside of the house. He hadn't been in here much, and the times he was he was only bringing food to Matsuyama's quarters. The halls they were traveling now led to the women's rooms, and his curiosity helped him take his mind off the pain.
      The lord knocked on a chamber door, which slid open silently. He was led in by an inquisitive servant, whose questioning gaze the children returned with equal force. A woman with black-brown hair coiled up on her head with hairsticks was sitting on a cushion inside. A baby, her son Kenji, was crawling around next to her, occasionally pausing to pick up and shake a brightly-painted toy.
      She looked up as they came in. Upon seeing the warrior and the two servant children, she placed her brush and scroll to the side, and bowed quickly. "Lord Matsuyama," she murmured before standing and rushing to her husband. "Kazuo, what happened? Oh, Yuki, my poor little dear! You've been hurt!"
      "Rinoki's dogs," he growled in response to her question, transferring the girl to his wife's arms.
      Yuki smiled, putting her arms around the woman's neck. "They chased me, Lady Nene! Cale tried to pull me up into a tree but we fell down and Lord Kazuo shot 'em!"
      "Did he now?" she said, angling a glance over at Matsuyama.
      "Call for Orino," he told the servant that had let them in, ignoring Nene's comment. "Sit here, Cale," he said, bending to put the boy on a nearby mat and take his blood-spattered robe from him.
      Nene regarded him with large, dark eyes, placing Yuki next to him before rushing to scoop the baby into her lap. "So you're Cale," she said when she returned. "My husband has spoken of you. It's nice to finally meet you."
      "It's nice to meet you too, Lady Matsuyama," he said, remembering when he'd seen her and her daughter for the first time. She must not remember me from back then, he mused, trying to rub the feeling back into his hand.
      The woman grabbed his good hand, pulling it away. "Don't play with it," she admonished. "When Orino gets here… ah, there she is now."
      The two looked up as Matsuyama opened the door to admit his daughter and the servant. Orino was a girl of ten years, but she moved as gracefully as a woman at least six years older. Her long black hair was braided and looped up onto her head. She bowed to her parents and then knelt in front of the younger children. "Those are some nasty bites," she said after inspecting them. "Was it Captain Yagiyu's dogs, Father?"
      He grumbled, folding his arms. "Yes. I will have a talk with him. Excuse me now," he said, leaving to go clean up.
      The girl looked back at the servant. "I will need warm water and some bandages, please," she asked. The woman bowed in assent and left to go fetch the items. Lady Matsuyama brought over to her daughter several paper-wrapped packages of herbs.
      "That man," she complained. "Rinoki is never acting responsibly. These aren't the first children hurt by those dogs. They could have been killed if Kazuo hadn't arrived when he did."
      Yuki sat up straight, turning her head to look at her bloody ankle as Lady Matsuyama gingerly pried away her mucky sandal. As the servant reappeared with a bowl of water and an armful of cloths, the child said, "I was scared, Lady Orino. I bet if you were there you could have gotten them good!"
      "I don't think so, Yuki," she said, grinning and dipping a rag into the water. She handed it to Nene, who began washing the little girl's wound, pausing only to take Yuki's sandal out of Kenji's mouth, and clean off his tongue.
      Orino then gently lifted up Cale's hand and began cleaning it. The water felt good but it stung a little. This isn't as bad as my eye, he thought, trying not to wince. So stop acting like it hurts already!
      As if she'd read his mind, the older girl asked, "It doesn't hurt like General Asae's mark did, does it, Cale?"
      "No," he whispered, looking up at her. When his eyes met hers, he found all thoughts of pain washed away as he stared at the strange, dark, golden-amber irises. "You have tiger eyes!" he breathed as he looked shamelessly at her, forgetting that it was impolite.
      She smiled and broke the gaze, turning slightly to open a packet of the herbs with slim pale fingers. He frowned as he watched. She was only older than he was by two years, but she acted as if she were grown up already. He knew that people with golden tiger-eyes were said to have power over people, but they also lived lonely lives. He wondered if his lord's daughter was ever lonely.
      Both the young servants watched intently as Orino sprinkled certain proportions of herbs into a small dish and moistened them with the warm water. She smeared the green paste onto a bandage and held it poised above the boy's hand. "This is going to sting," she warned.
      "I can take it," Cale said confidently. Nene chuckled slightly behind a hand, and her daughter merely continued to smile a serene smile. When she placed the cloth against the puncture wounds, he immediately regretted his words. "Ow!" he cried, forcing himself to not jerk his hand out of her grip. Tears welled up in his eyes, but he tried to hold them back.
      Suddenly a small hand reached out to grab his good one. He turned to see Yuki looking at him sympathetically, her own eyes blinking quickly at the pain of the poultice Lady Matsuyama was applying to her wound. His first reaction was to pull away from her. She was a girl, after all. But on second thought, he squeezed her hand tightly and bit his lip.
      The stinging slowly died away, and with it went the pain of the dog bite. Orino tied the bandages and then patted his cheek. "Just leave that on for a while and it should heal up fine," she told him, giving him a fresh robe. It was old and somewhat threadbare, but at least it was soft.
      "Thank you, Lady Orino," he told her, dropping Yuki's hand and bowing to her. Beside him, the girl received the same advice and knelt in front of Orino's mother respectfully. "Sorry to trouble you," he added.
      Nene laughed, not unkindly. "Such a polite boy! If only you were this polite, Yuki!"
      "I'm sorry, my lady," she said, flushing, and lowered her head. "I'll try harder to be more courteous."
      The woman smiled and touched her shoulder lovingly. "You're just fine as you are, child. You two haven't troubled us a bit. Where would we be if we let our servants get sick and die from a bite?" She stood up and straightened the folds of her elegant kimono, handing her child to Orino. Nene's daughter followed suit, adjusting her brother's position on her hip. "You'd better run along back to your chores now, and bring that ripped robe to be mended, Yuki. Don't be afraid to go outside; my lord will make sure those beasts never return here."
      The children bowed once more and stood up, walking towards the doorway. Yuki limped slightly, but made no protest at her pain. Cale gave her a sidelong glance, and then opened the door. I guess it won't hurt to help, he thought with an internal sigh, holding out his hand. She took it with a shy smile, and they left the room.
      As the other servant moved to shut the door, he heard Lady Matsuyama say delightedly, "How darling! That would make a good match, wouldn't it?"
      "It certainly wouldn't be a bad one, Mother," Orino observed amusedly.
      Cale groaned, hoping word of this didn't get out to the others. If they found out he was holding hands with a girl, he'd never live it down.

      Nearly a week later, the cook sent him to the main house with a meal for Lord Matsuyama, who was writing letters in his study.
      As Cale carried the tray through the halls, he thought about the gossip that was going around town. All the servants were whispering about the argument between Lord Matsuyama and Captain Yagiyu. The fight had never come to blows, but apparently there was now much bad feeling between the two former friends.
      The boy felt somewhat guilty for ruining the friendship, but he reminded himself that it wasn't his fault the dogs had attacked him and Yuki. Besides, Yagiyu doesn't deserve to have a friend like Lord Matsuyama, he thought derisively. He has the general.
      Cale knocked on the aide's chamber door. When he was bid to enter, he crouched down in the doorway in respect, balancing the tray of food. "I am here with your meal, sir," he announced.
      Matsuyama looked up briefly before returning to his papers. "Ah, yes, Cale. Bring it here."
      He did as he was asked, placing the tray on a clear space and waiting to hear if he had any new orders. As he waited, he glanced down at the papers on the table, surprised that he could recognize a word or two. I guess once you start learning to read it never goes away, he mused.
      The man turned to look at him, the stressed lines in his face relaxing a little. "How is your hand doing, then?"
      "It's just fine, sir," he said. "I just took off the bandages for good." He raised his hand for his lord to see, and Matsuyama took it in his own and inspected the scar.
      "You won't be able to hold a sword," he told the boy matter-of-factly. "You were aspiring to be a soldier someday, were you not?"
      Cale looked down dejectedly. "I was, sir. I know it's not my sword hand, but I was really getting good at using two the way the swordmaster was showing me…" And I don't just want to be a soldier, I want to be a samurai, when I make Asae give me back my name! But what good is wearing a samurai's two swords when I can't even use both of them?
      The man smiled, letting the boy take back his hand. "Then I suppose you will have to learn something else, like the naginata or the yari."
      "Or a nodatchi?" he asked hopefully. Like my father. "That's only one-handed."
      "The nodatchi," Matsuyama agreed, "if you can afford to buy one. But whatever the case, you will succeed despite the injury."
      Cale bowed, unable to keep the smile off his face as he left the room and nearly bounded down the halls. His lord seemed to share his happiness, returning the smile before looking to his food.

     "Do you have anywhere else to go now, Cale?" Yuki asked him, clutching a paper-wrapped parcel to her chest.
      He didn't bother to turn and look at her as he put the bag of spices into his sleeve, replying, "No, I've gotten everything. Are you hungry?"
      "Uh huh," she said, moving up to stand next to him. He kept himself from snapping at her because it was cold. Although no snow was falling at the moment, the streets were blanketed with a soft white cover of the stuff. Very few shops were open. "Are we allowed to eat something?" the girl asked, her breath visibly blowing like smoke around her face.
      Cale reached into the small woven purse and drew out several coppers. Looking about, he spied a boy hunched over a fire, tending a pot. "Yeah, the cook told me I could have what was left."
      "That's what Lady Orino said too," she said softly, smiling and handing him her spare coins.
      He turned and made his way over to the young vendor in the corner, Yuki automatically following the wife's customary three steps behind him, making sure not to step on his shadow. Cale didn't know what was worse; holding hands with her, or having her treat him like her husband. I'm nine, he thought, not nineteen. I'm not supposed to be married to Yuki yet.
      He had come to terms with the fact that he was going to marry her someday, but apparently, she hadn't realized that 'someday' didn't mean 'now'. Suppressing a groan, Cale bought two small bowls of noodles from the boy and handed one to the maidservant. Her short hair swung around her face as she bowed in thanks.
      The two found a place to sit under an overhang and enjoyed their hot food, eating silently. The streets were very quiet because of the cold, and only merchants and other servants were out, enjoying ruling the city for a while. They no longer had to worry about the dogs, who had not 'escaped' their kennels since their owner's fight with Matsuyama earlier that year.
      When they finished, they returned the bowls to the boy and began walking out of the market square, and back toward Matsuyama's manor. As the children trudged along, crunching snow underneath their booted feet, Cale reviewed sword techniques in his mind, adapting the ones he knew to accommodate the fact that his left hand couldn't grip as well anymore. He was completely oblivious to Yuki, not noticing that she had stopped until she called for him, several meters away.
      "What?" he asked in irritation. She put out her hand and beckoned for him to come there, her face pale as she looked off down another street. "What is it?" he asked again, standing next to her and following her gaze.
      Yuki clutched her package and her fur cloak closer to her. "It's Hoshun," she whispered urgently. "We have to go hide somewhere."
      He frowned, looking down the street and seeing only a single person walking their way. "What?" he said sharply. "Hide from some high-class idiot? No way. We'll just bow and they'll keep going."
      No!" she hissed, pulling on his arm and dragging him around the corner and up close to the wall of a house. "That's Asae Hoshun, the general's daughter."
      Asae's daughter? he thought. I knew he had one, but I didn't think she was anything to be afraid of. "Oh…" he said slowly, "isn't her mother this crazy woman who runs around half-dressed, spouting old babies' stories about demons and some evil Dynasty?"
      "Lady Au's not crazy, she's just… different," Yuki said, looking as if she didn't really believe it herself. "But Hoshun's not like other girls. She's really mean, Cale! She'll beat you even if you do bow!"
      Just like her father. The boy scowled. "I am not bowing to his daughter," he said darkly.
      "You have to!" she cried, clenching his arm tightly. "You belong to her father, even though he gave you to Lord Matsuyama. The mark is right there on your face! That means you belong to her too!"
      "I will not!" Cale threatened, slapping her hand off his arm.
      She looked down, ashamed, but then suddenly frowned at him. "I'm worried about you, Cale, I don't want you to get hurt!"
      He made a derisive noise, walking back out into the street. "Yuki, you're such a girl."
      "I am a girl," she said emphatically, following him, "and Hoshun is too! You can't hit her back!"
      He frowned, but stood firm, watching as Hoshun came his way. Asae's daughter was twelve years old. She dressed as much like a boy as she could get away with; her black-brown hair was cut shoulder-length and held back with a jeweled band. She had a pretty face, but there was enough cruelty in her sneer to make her appear rather homely.
      As she stopped in front of the two children, Yuki trembled in fear and dropped to her knees in the snow. Cale didn't look toward her as she did so, sizing the noble up. She was bigger than him by a lot, and he was beginning to regret staying up. However, he couldn't back down now.
      Hoshun's eyes, blackish green, met Cale's blue ones. She scowled at him, walking up close. "Don't you know how to bow to your betters, boy?"
      "I… of course I do," he replied, growing scared but trying to force that feeling away. "But I don't see any betters here!" he said in a rush, immediately regretting it and wishing he was safe at home.
      Her eyes narrowed, and she reached out and grabbed him by the collar, drawing his face up to hers and forcing him to stand on tiptoe. "Say that again," she hissed dangerously. "Say that again, boy. You wear the bisento mark and belong to my father… he made you to walk upon. Apologize and I won't hurt you… much."
      Cale found himself transfixed by her eyes much the way he had been by Orino's tiger ones. However, these eyes were the eyes of a demon oni, not a tiger. They had the same effect, but the boy was able to pull himself away. "I don't see any betters here," he repeated in a very slow voice, as if she were stupid.
      Because he was expecting it, the blow she delivered to his stomach didn't hurt as much as it could have. It jarred an explosive breath of air out of his lungs, and the way she was holding him up, he couldn't have blocked it. "How dare you be so insolent!" she snarled. "You are a very stupid little boy!"
      She released him, and he stumbled back, grabbing his stomach. I agree, he thought, shaking his head. "We weren't doing anything to you!" he returned. "Why don't you just leave us alone?"
      "Cale, stop!" Yuki said from where she knelt next to him, pulling at the hem of his cloak.
      Hoshun drew out a knife. "Why don't I put another scar on you, boy? That'll teach you obedience!" She lunged for him as he was straightening, the knife flashing in his vision.
      The boy froze as sudden remembrances of fire-red glinting off his mother's knife danced in his head. He stumbled to the side, managing to evade her slice by dumb luck alone. As she regained her balance, he recognized the knife in her hand. He gave it to her! "That's mine!" he said, shocked, "that was my mother's! Give it back to me!"
      The girl glanced at the knife casually. "This? Oh, I'll return it to you!" She adjusted her grip and moved toward him again. He expected her to try to stab him, but she suddenly pulled up short and kicked him. Cale's chin snapped up and he felt blood leave his mouth as he fell back into the snow. Despite the layers of the cold white stuff, the street below was still hard and unforgiving. His head swam painfully and he blinked away a haze of tears.
      "Stop!" Yuki screamed, getting to her feet. Hoshun almost negligently threw a punch at the girl's face, knocking her down.
      "Need to get a girl to fight for you?" she asked Cale nastily. His vision swam as she stood above him, but he couldn't even respond with a scowl. Hoshun turned to kick Yuki's prone form, delighting in the girl's screams of pain. "You're the sweet obedient one, aren't you? You're the one that serves that little bitch Orino. I don't care if she is marrying him, she'll never be anything more than a little kid!"
      Orino marrying... who? he thought, brushing away the thought as he tried to get to his knees. "Leave her alone!" he yelled. The general's daughter ignored him, continuing to beat Yuki. The girl hardly protested anymore, tears streaming down her cheeks.
      "What do you say to me now?" Hoshun interrogated, pulling the other girl to her knees by tugging on her hair.
      She sobbed, bending over her knees and covering her face. "T-thank you, Lady Hoshun," she whispered. "Thank you for giving me what I deserve." The older girl looked satisfied, finishing off with one final kick before turning to the boy.
      Cale stumbled up to his feet, his mouth dropping open. "How can you say that to… to that monster?" he asked Yuki, who never moved from her curled-up position. Hoshun snarled, reaching out, hand with the knife extended.
      "I'm going to kill you," she said in a soft, terrible voice. He believed it.
      Hoshun raised herself up on her toes, then down, before swinging back the knife. As she moved to lunge for him and he tried desperately to remember how he was supposed to defend himself, a high-pitched shriek rent the air.
      Yuki, holding her package in front of her like a shield, ran and jumped at Hoshun. Her momentum knocked both the girls down, and while she was momentarily stunned, the young maidservant slapped her as hard as she could, punching and kicking the prone noble. "You're awful!" she screamed. "I hate you!"
      Hoshun growled and moved her knife. Cale heard the rip of the paper package and Yuki's scream. Suddenly panicked and worried, he ran forward and dragged her off the mad girl. The younger child still held her lady's package close to her, her face pale. "Run, Yuki!" he said, dragging her along as fast as he could.
      The two could hear Hoshun's enraged cries from behind them as she got up. "Run all you want, you filth! I know where you live, and you can't hide in there forever!"
      "Cale…" Yuki whimpered as he pulled her faster.
      "Keep running, keep running," he said. "It's okay, I'll save you again, just like before, right?" She nodded sickly, and he looked around. They were going in the opposite direction from Matsuyama's house. We'll have to go around and hope we don't find her again, he thought, attempting to figure out the best way to do that.
      When he looked back to see if she had followed them, he barely heard Yuki's warning shout and turned to look ahead again. He was too late to keep himself from slamming into the man that stood in front of them, pulling Yuki along with him. Something jingled as they hit, but the man didn't seem injured or bothered in the least.
      As he looked up to see what trouble they were in now, a warrior-monk dressed in brown returned the gaze curiously. "Why such a hurry?" he asked.
      "Ancient one?" Cale asked, eyes wide in hope. But he could see under the man's large triangular hat, see a large beaked nose and two gray eyes.
      "I'm not that old," the man replied. "You two didn't steal anything, did you?"
      Cale shook his head emphatically. "No, no, we didn't, but we got beat up and she's still after us!"
      The monk bent closer to peer at him. "She?"
      "Asae Hoshun!" he cried, tugging at the man's sleeve. "Please don't let her find us! She stabbed Yuki!"
      The man frowned. "Come with me." He turned and strode quickly to a row of houses, sliding open the door of one. The children followed nervously until he entered a small room, bare of all but the most essential things. He set his shakujo in a corner and turned to them. "This is where I live while I'm in town for the winter. Now, tell me what happened."
      Cale made Yuki sit down on one of the tatami mats, gently prying the package away from her fingers. "What's your name?" he asked instead of answering, not sure if he could trust this monk yet.
      "I'm called Heijin," he replied, kneeling next to the children and pushing off his hat to reveal graying dark hair.
      "That's not a name," Cale muttered, watching Yuki blink in confusion at her surroundings. Who would name their kid 'Sword Blade'?
      The man ignored him and inspected Yuki. "You say she was stabbed? I see no blood…"
      "She had the package in front of her, and I heard it rip," he said, pulling the paper-wrapped parcel over towards them. There was a large gash in it, not only through the wrappings but through the cloth of the white kimono inside as well.
      As she looked down at the package, the girl finally showed signs of life again as she burst into tears. "I'm going to be in so much trouble!" she cried. "Now Orino's dress is ruined!"
      "It's not your fault," Cale consoled, knowing that she would still probably get in trouble.
      Heijin made a noise in his throat. "Now, I want you to tell me what happened. Don't lie."
      Sheepishly, the two children told the story, interrupting each other and finally managing to piece together what they had seen and done. They both stopped in the middle of the tale to show each other their bruises, but still managed to complete the story in record time.
      "She is out of control," the man mused, standing contemplatively. "But it is not really young Hoshun's fault."
      Yuki sounded indignant. "Not her fault? How come?"
      Heijin replied, "Although Lady Asae still lives, she is in no condition to raise a child, and has not been since her daughter's birth. Hoshun was raised by her father, and therefore she only knows how to be cruel. No one has taught her otherwise."
      They blinked at him, understanding but not knowing how to express it. "That still doesn't make it okay," Cale said finally.
      The monk said nothing but looked at him thoughtfully. He then bent and scooped up the package. "I will help you," he said, "and get this replaced."
      Yuki's eyes shone as she bowed in gratitude. "Oh, thank you, sir!" she said joyfully.
      "This will not be free," he said sternly. "You must repay me."
      The girl's face fell. "I don't get money very often, sir," she said. "I guess I just have to bring it home ruined."
      Heijin's face looked set. "The boy will repay your debt."
      "Me?" Cale said, frowning. "Why me?"
      The monk stared at him. "You were the one who started the fight due to your obstinance. But that is no matter. I want you to come here when your duties are done each day, and I will teach you to fight."
      "Teach me to fight? Why? How is that going to pay back for a kimono?"
      "When you learn to fight," Heijin told him, "you will repay me many times over. Now, where did you get this?"
      Cale shrugged. "It was between the fish place and the one selling umbrellas."
      "You don't know the name of it?"
      "Nope, I couldn't read the sign," Cale said, cocking his head to the side. "I'm just a servant, why do you think I should?"
      Heijin scowled down at him. "A lord's son should have started learning to read," he said. "I will have to finish the job, I suppose."
      As the boy sat stunned, Yuki pointed out helpfully, "There's writing on the wrappings, sir, on the bottom."
      The monk glanced at it and moved toward the doorway. "I will return shortly." As he left, the two turned to look at one another.
      The girl smiled. "I'm glad you didn't get hurt too bad, Cale. And you get to learn how to fight, too! I wish I could. Then she couldn't hurt us again."
      "You were brave, for a girl," he told her. She blushed, and he rolled his eyes. "Oh, did you hear what she said, about Lady Orino getting married? That's why she hit you so much…"
      Yuki nodded eagerly. "That's right, Lady Orino is going to marry General Asae when she gets older."
      Cale's eyes widened. "Him? Why is she going to marry him? He's already got Lady Au!"
      She smiled, eager to impart the gossip. "When Lady Orino was little, a seer man said that she would grow up and have a son. General Asae only has Hoshun, and he wants a boy to be his heir. So he's going to take her as his outside-wife so he can have a son. It was arranged when she was very little."
      "Hmm…" he said aloud, his mind racing. Asae killed my family so they couldn't get revenge for my father. If I kill Asae, do I have to kill all his family so they won't get me? I wouldn't mind getting Hoshun, but what about Lady Au? She's just a crazy. But Lady Orino... will I have to kill Lady Orino?
      Yuki grabbed his hand and squeezed it, sliding closer to him. "We're gonna get married too, aren't we, Cale?"
      "Right," he said distractedly, thinking about his lord's daughter and her tiger-eyes. I don't want to kill her! Why does she have to marry him?
      "Cale?" Yuki asked, so close to him she probably could have heard his heart beat. "Would you really be sad if Hoshun had stabbed me?"
      He thought for a moment. Yuki was annoying, the way she clung to him, but he had to admit he would miss her if she were gone. "Yeah," he said, "yeah, I'd be sad."
      "Me too. I didn't want her to hurt you."
      "Don't worry," he told her, letting her hold his hand instead of pulling it away. "I'm gonna keep protecting you. When I learn to fight I won't let anyone beat up on people who are smaller or weaker."
      Yuki smiled, looking up at him. "That's very good of you, Cale. I really hope you can."

      Um, not much to say. I named the baby Kenji after She-Ronin's cool cool character.  Heijin does mean 'sword blade' which is why Cale didn't think of it as a real name. And yes, unfortunately, Yagiyu Rinoki is Mia's ancestor. Oh well, you can't pick your relatives. Right, Anubis? Right.

      Cale, Cale... aww, poor guy! But not to worry, I think this is probably the worst chapter for him getting beaten up. And he's such a little ladies' man, too!

      Send me your comments, pwease, and maybe suggestions on little things you'd like to see happen, or what you liked or didn't or anything! I love email...