Ankūro

15

15

Fire without fuel,
Is not real fire at all,
It is only ash.
- Osokan.

In the dying evening light, he could see the flickering lights within the Ka house. He had made this pilgrimage every night since the day he returned from the bandit camp. The day he had seen the truth about Tiima. He had stood, within the shadows of the house opposite, trying to bring himself to speak to Tiima and failing every time to build the courage.

He had thought it would be easier, after seeing her father and the old pig leave, heading to who knew where, after the planting ended. Still, he could not bring himself to cross the street, knock upon the door and speak to her.

'To her'. It felt strange, but right that he should think of Tiima as 'her'. Seeing her naked had not changed his feelings about her at all. She was the woman he loved. The woman he should live the rest of his life with. He knew this so much that he ached for her. And she would love him back if she knew that he had accepted her for who she was. He knew this too.

Pacing up and down didn't help and the few times that people appeared at their doorways, or walked along the street, at this time the night, only made finding it within himself to confront Tiima with his feelings even worse.

It would help, of course, if she showed her face outside, but she had not left the Ka house since her father and the old woman had left. Choosing to remain inside until they returned. He could understand that. What with her secret and the fact that few people, even after all these years, accepted her and her father, staying away from people would seem the better option than suffering the gossip of small village folk.

Kimū knew that his mother had made all the primary moves to make Ajo and Tiima Bunsuro unwelcome. Her ancient ideas of belonging, status, position and reputation kept his mother stuck in a different time. Things would change when she died and he became Headman and that time could not come soon enough for him. Then, only deeds and loyalty would be acceptable. Loyalty to him.

He paced back and forth a couple more times, gripping his sword hilt and breathing too fast. He would do it. He would do it now and everything would work out as he expected it to. He only had to make those few steps to her door. He only had to knock upon it and explain things to her and that would be that.

From the corner of his eye, he caught movement to his side. Without thinking, he drew his sword, only to find a hand grabbing his arm and another closing itself over his mouth. Someone with strength, much greater than his own, pulled him away from the building even as he struggled. The hand upon his mouth held his head to the side and Kimū could not see who held him. He began to panic.

Upon reaching the edge of the village, where streets turned into pathways and trees loomed over him, the hidden assailant twisted their hands, sending Kimū spinning away, his back crashing against the trunk of a tree. He still, somehow, held his sword and brought it up to defend himself, only for the sword to become swatted away with ease.

"Hold, child, before I have to injure you." The voice had an edge to it, as if the man speaking could burst into laughter at any second, finding Kimū and his searching eyes humorous. "I am a friend. Well, not a friend, I expect, but someone with the same needs as you."

"Who are you?" He considered bringing up the point of his sword again, but knew he would fare as bad as he had before.

The man stepped from the shadows, his hands out to the side showing he meant no harm. Kimū didn't recognise him at all. A short man, overweight with a long moustache upon his face. The rest of his head shaved except for at the top of his scalp where a two inch wide strip ended in a long braid of hair falling over his shoulder.