Nightblade (21 page)

Read Nightblade Online

Authors: Ryan Kirk

Tags: #Fiction, #Fantasy

“Akio! What are you doing here? This is a place of business! Let down Takako now and take that damned gag out of her mouth.”

Akio looked around and examined the situation. He motioned to the guards, who dropped her none too gently to the ground. She pulled the gag out of her mouth and started to cry silently, not wanting to risk Madame’s displeasure which was now squarely focused on Akio.

“The girl is yours, what do you mean by coming in here and trying to take her by force?”

Akio wasn’t bothered in the least by Madame. “I should be asking you the same thing. I came here, hoping to surprise my consort with some new gifts I had picked up in town. I desired to properly introduce myself to her before we are to leave in a couple of days time. But when I get here, your guards tell me Takako has another appointment, and she can’t see me right now. The agreement my father made with you demanded she be untouched. I come in, just once, and I find her with this dog,” he said, jabbing his finger at Ryuu.

“The girl is still untouched, boy, so don’t go making accusations of me. You can feel free to check, but I will vouch for her. She is teaching the tea ceremony to this young man while his father enjoys the pleasures of this house. Do not assume a conspiracy where there is none.”

Madame’s response only seemed to flame the fans of Akio’s rage further. “Tea ceremony! You must think me foolish to believe that. I should have both this cunt and dog killed.” Akio drew his sword, starting a chain reaction of swords being drawn. The building echoed with the ring of steel being loosed.

Madame motioned for her guards to bring their swords down. “There is no need for violence here, Akio. The girl is yours as promised. Any killings here would bring dishonor to both you and your father. No harm has been done and you will know she is untouched yourself in due time. It would not be wise to take this any further.”

Takako watched everything with rapt attention, a captive audience of one. Madame stood tall, calm in the face of danger, her guard behind her ready to defend and attack at a moment’s notice. Akio and Madame had about an equal number of retainers present, so it would be a close fight. Akio was still angry, but Takako could see Madame’s words had gotten to him.
He was scared of his father
. The realization came like a lightning bolt on a clear day, but Takako recognized the truth of it immediately. And in her room sat Ryuu, still surrounded in mystery. Was he a warrior or a child? Takako couldn’t decide, even knowing him better than anybody else in the situation. He didn’t seem worried, but Takako guessed she looked fairly normal too, frozen in complete fear as she was.

Takako was only thrown into more confusion as Akio made his decision. He sheathed his sword and walked over to Ryuu. “You must be a rich kid to be carrying that sword like it’s something you know how to use.” He picked Ryuu up with one arm, and Takako saw firsthand just how strong Nori’s son was. Ryuu dangled there, feet scraping the ground. But Ryuu didn’t struggle. Akio continued insulting him. “Come on, if you can use that sword, now is a good time. Otherwise I’m going to bring more pain down on you than you’ve ever experienced before. I might even cut off one of your hands. That will teach you to touch other people’s women.”

Ryuu looked at Akio calmly. Takako saw there was no fear in his eyes, but he took no steps to save himself. Who was he? Why wasn’t he scared? Akio laughed and head butted Ryuu. Takako swore she saw Ryuu move enough to deflect the blow, but she couldn’t be sure, everything happened so fast. Akio started raining blows down on Ryuu as Ryuu protected his face and groin. Akio punched and kicked him over and over, and Takako saw the blood starting to splatter over her private space. Takako screamed for Akio to stop, but that just caused him to kick Ryuu with renewed vigor.

Madame held her guards back with one hand and Takako begged her and pleaded with her to make it stop, but she took no action. With one final, incredible kick that lifted Ryuu’s smaller body off the ground, Akio reached a point of exhaustion. He turned around and looked at Takako. “This is the least that will happen to any man I see you with even if you are just teaching him the tea ceremony. Are we clear?”

It was all Takako could do to nod her head. As Akio motioned his guards to take her with them, she managed to steal one last glance at Ryuu. His face looked unharmed, and he was looking at her with the same mask he always wore. Takako would have sworn he was fine, and as she was pulled out of sight, she thought just for the briefest of moments she saw him smile. Even as she was being thrown in a cart she couldn’t help but wonder,
who was Ryuu
?

 

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

 

 

Moriko awoke confused. She was dead. But dead should be . . . different. She was awake, and awake wasn’t right. Her mind was a blank slate for a couple of breaths before memory exploded through her. She remembered the combat with the Abbot, being whipped against the monastery wall. But what she couldn’t forget was the sword through her abdomen. She could still see the drip of blood from the tip of the blade.

The pain came blasting through on the heels of her memory. She was lying on her stomach with her head being supported by a rather clever arrangement of pillows and blankets. Without even moving she could feel the tenderness of her back. She tried making just the slightest movement and the pain that shot throughout her back dimmed her peripheral vision. She bit herself trying not to scream. Every welt seemed to be connected to the next one, and movement of one seemed to light them all up. If the Abbot had done it on purpose there was no way he could have done a better job of it.

Moriko was worried about the cut from the sword but she couldn’t bring herself to try to find it. If she was alive now, she would be alive when it was fine to move her arm and find out. There was no rush, not right now.

She heard a soft movement. As her head continued to clear her sense returned to her. She was in the monastery which wasn’t surprising, and seemed to be in her own bed. She heard Tomotsu’s voice and it sounded like the sweetest music she had ever heard. Even through everything he had watched over her. Perhaps there was some good in the world. “How are you feeling?”

Moriko gently moved her jaw and determined it would be okay to speak, “Horrible.”

“That doesn’t surprise me.” There wasn’t much sympathy in Tomotsu’s voice and her heart sank. “I’m surprised the Abbot let you live. I thought he meant to kill you.”

“I am too. I saw the sword. Why am I not dead?”

“The Abbot is one of the best warriors in the region, something you should have known before pulling your stunt. He was able to place the blade in a safe place, not cutting any organs. It was an incredible strike.”

The tent of hope she had raised collapsed to the ground. Her only hope at sympathy and support was instead complimenting the Abbot on his incredible swordsmanship against a bound girl. Tomotsu didn’t care. He had been assigned to take care of her. She was alone. Moriko swore to herself and wished for death, or at least the quiet of the forest. She decided in that moment she was done with people for good.

If Tomotsu didn’t sense that, he at least understood she didn’t want to talk to him. He stepped away from her bed. “I will let you get some rest. The Abbot will want to see you when you are stronger.”

Moriko cried, the pillows bunched around her face drinking her tears. There was nothing left for her in this life.

 

Moriko’s recovery was agonizing and slow. Although her body did its best to try to stitch together all the cuts every small movement she made ripped open a new scab. It was almost a full moon before Moriko was able to sit up in bed and try walking around without pain. It was a small achievement, but being able to move again was an incredible relief to Moriko. She was more scared of paralysis and losing her ability to move than she was of death.

Tomotsu made it clear she wasn’t to leave her quarters. He told her the Abbot wanted her healed before she would be allowed to wander the monastery grounds again. Moriko accepted the orders without comment. She was too weak to do anything useful anyway, so the order was to her liking.

Moriko spent many of her waking hours thinking of trees. She imagined them whispering in the breeze, the shade and the sun making exquisite patterns on her skin. There was something so natural, so primal about the woods. Life made a lot more sense there than in the monastery cut off from all nature except the sky.

At least she had plenty of time to think about what had happened. The offenses she had committed were punishable up to death by their monastic code. While not a required punishment, common belief held an offense of her magnitude was almost always met with death. Moriko struggled to figure out why she hadn’t been killed. Her mind could only come up with two unpleasant possibilities: either she was being healed just to be tortured again, or the Abbot felt like she could be rehabilitated.

Moriko dismissed the first possibility for two reasons. The first was that although Perseverance was a strict place, it was not unnecessarily cruel. Although she would be delighted to escape at a moment’s notice, monasteries were beacons of light in a dark world. If the Abbot wanted that belief to continue, he couldn’t torture girls at will. The second reason was that if it was true, Moriko could do nothing about it, so it was no use to even worry about it. Better to focus on more positive outcomes and hope for the best.

Which left only the possibility the Abbot had some greater plan for her. It left her more options but was also much more terrifying. Moriko examined the situation from every angle. She was the only one who knew how desperate she was to escape, who knew how much she detested living in the monastery. Perhaps the Abbot was looking to use her as a warrior for the monastery. He couldn’t know her disloyalty extended to the whole monastic system.

Although Moriko couldn’t guess what the Abbot was thinking, she knew she had a choice to make. To continue her show of defiance would lead to her death. To submit to the Abbot held the possibility of future life. Defiance seemed preferable, but submission meant life. For many days the wish for life and death fought within her soul, and her final decision was not one she was proud of.

She decided to submit and follow the Abbot’s orders and plan for her life. It felt like a coward’s decision, but she did not want to die. She missed her family, and she missed the woods. She would give anything to wander through those woods again, to use her new powers to sense the life that flowed through the area. Life meant opportunity and hope. She would never give in to the Abbot’s manipulations but would always be looking for her opportunity to escape.

Her resolution set, Moriko set about fulfilling her plans. She pushed her rehabilitation as far as it would go. It wasn’t pleasant, but she wasn’t sure what was next and her body needed to be prepared. She had been letting it heal slowly but she hadn’t been keeping her body in shape. It was time to do so. She began exercising a bit at a time as her body would allow her. Combined with frequent stretching, Moriko found within another moon’s time she was starting to feel almost at the level she had been at before the torture. The skin on her back still felt tight sometimes but overall she felt like her body was ready for new challenges.

Moriko was proud of her body. She was proud of what it was capable of, how strong it was. As her fingers traced over the parts of her back she could reach, she found she was even proud of her scars. She would finger the scar on her abdomen where she had been stabbed and swore to herself she would never forget what she had endured at the hands of the Abbot.

Her relationships with the other students also changed. Where she had used to be shy, she now almost didn’t speak at all. The other students ostracized her which was perfectly fine to her. She had seen the pattern begin with Tomotsu and saw it develop in all the other students as well. She was unclean, to be avoided. The other students were becoming content and comfortable.

The initial adjustment to the monastery was difficult as most students were taken from their families. But as they adjusted to a comfortable existence, the desire to escape shrank more and more. Comfort was the nemesis of change and within a few cycles most students became attached to the monastic routine and way of life. There was power and privilege here, and no one willingly turned away from that. Moriko labeled them all cowards and refused to deal with them.

 

Tomotsu continued to check on her daily. She tried to delay the inevitable, but she knew it was only a matter of time before she was summoned to the Abbot’s chambers. Moriko had been expecting the summons for a while by the time it came. She was as healed as she was going to get while resting.

Tomotsu had returned her sword several days ago. It was a clear message. Even armed, she posed no threat to the Abbot. She was thankful for its unyielding presence. The blade was cool and solid as she ran her hand over the blade before resting it in its sheath and preparing herself for the meeting. She imagined herself as the steel of her sword, folded upon itself hundreds of times, the core a secret to all.

For the first time in almost two moons, Moriko stepped out into the monastery courtyard. It hadn’t changed since her fight with Goro. Her breath caught in her throat when she saw the rings she had been tied to while whipped. She pushed the reaction down and forced herself to stare. There was no blood under the spot. The monks had cleaned well.

Inside the Abbot’s chambers was stillness. The typical bustle surrounding the Abbot was nowhere to be found, replaced by a quiet, meditative silence. Moriko filled herself with the silence. Emptiness was safety. If she kept herself empty she could face the Abbot without fear. She did not underestimate his sense. She kept herself as still as the room.

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