Kaguta - Or, Ankūro - The Warrior, The Thief and The Killer

21

When a memory,
Of terrible past events,
Seems more like a dream.
- Bushubō.

The woman walked in silence as they retraced their steps to where she had hidden her belongings and remained silent as they headed back toward the path that circled Kūmū-Nē. Saiban knew where he needed to go. Back to the often-used camp site where he had seen that first carving of a fox upon a stone. As they walked, he kept an eye on the graceful woman, still trying to decide whether he could trust her or not. He and Nesukē had released the horses not long after finding the fortress. They knew they would have little time to care for them, but he wished they could ride now.

With Nesukē staying near the fortress, Saiban had no-one to watch his back. Not that he had ever needed that in the past, but he could sense the tightly-held violence within Kō that threatened to explode into reality at the slightest provocation. He had known many people like her, some would say he had that same intensity, but something about this woman made him want to hold his great, curved sword at the ready at all times.

For her part, Kō appeared to take little notice of him. The occasional glance, the easy way she held that disguised spear, ready to remove the cover to reveal the blade within, the way she walked an arm's length to the side. It all spoke of someone that trusted him as much as he trusted her. A wariness borne of unfamiliarity, despite their converging agendas.

"You're a noble." He couldn't stand the silence any longer. At any other time, it would be he that held his thoughts to himself. "I was lowly born. Never had much to do with nobles and when I did, it never went well. It must be strange to fall so low?"

She fixed him with eyes as cold as ice and showed nothing upon her face. He had thought Nesukē could hide her emotions, but this woman could teach the sneak thief a lesson or two about that. When she turned away again, Saiban almost felt relief. He could stand against any man, or woman, and stare them down, confident in his strength and his own personality, but this woman, Kō, froze his blood like no other since the Sansui, back in All-Home.

"I never liked being noble born." The coarse, whispering voice surprised Saiban as Kō eventually answered his question. "I enjoyed the lifestyle, the wealth, the privilege, but it stifled me. People expect things of you and it never stops. Every moment of every day, that expectation weighs upon you. The lower classes have less, but they have a freedom to be who they wish to be."

"You haven't talked to many peasants, have you?" Those few words gave Saiban more insight into the woman. A warmth missing so far. "We are all burdened by expectations. Those expectations are different, but no less stifling. It's this island. Its formalities, its customs, ceremonies. The very essence of our people and the island press upon us all. No-one has any freedom. Not really."

Her eyes bored into him and Saiban wondered whether he had offended her. He talked how he talked, she should consider herself lucky he had not fallen into cursing, as he was once want to do. Instead, she thought about his words, giving a slight nod, before turning back to the path. It appeared the conversation had ended and Saiban didn't care for more silence.

As they walked, he began to hum to himself. For a long distance ahead, and a similar distance behind, he could see nothing but the path and the trees clinging to the sides of the Sacred Mountain. They were alone, as far as he could tell, and could afford to make a little noise. It didn't seem to bother Kō, but she did not join him in his rendition of the well-known folk tune. It complimented the sounds of cicadas and bird calls from within the trees.

After some time, they managed to find the flat area upon which the camp site sat and Saiban searched the stones for the one that carried the carving of the fox. It still sat there, undisturbed. The crude representation of the animal looked even more weathered in the harsh sunlight than it had before. The grooves and striations far more worn than he had first thought.