Nightblade Page 7

  The woman broke the nervous silence. “I very much appreciate you two coming today. I know that this is often a difficult day, but I assure you that in this house the girls are treated much better than in any other house.”

  Takako’s father nodded. “I have heard of your reputation and am glad that you agreed to take on my daughter for so generous a sum. The reputation of your women’s condition brings great relief to my heart.”

  The woman’s smile increased just slightly in a manner that Takako found sinister. “My girls are consorts to the highest men in the land. They need to be intelligent, beautiful, and well-educated. Your daughter, according to the people I have asked, possesses at least two of these qualities. The third we can provide.”

  There was a momentary silence. Neither Takako nor her father knew what to say. The woman continued after subjecting Takako to another visual examination.

  “It is also my experience that the quicker this goes the better off everyone is. As stated before, this is a difficult day. I have here all of the papers required to be signed for our deal to be concluded. For your convenience I have made two copies, both of which we will sign. In this way, you will also have the agreement in case there are any arguments down the road.”

  The woman took out the papers as she spoke, laying them on a low table that sat between her and Takako’s father. She offered him a quill, which he took hesitantly. He looked over at his daughter one more time, and the sight of her seemed to take all the energy out of him.

  The woman spoke, her soft voice firm in the darkness, “I understand the pain you are going through. I would be much more concerned if you did not hesitate. This business is what it is, and I will make no lies to you about it. However, your daughter will receive the best care possible here. She will be well-fed and educated as well.”

  Her strong voice seemed to reassure Takako’s father, and in two quick movements he signed both the papers in front of him. The woman took the papers, turned them around, and signed them herself. She folded up one copy and gave it to Takako’s father. The other she rolled up and hid somewhere in her kimono. The woman bowed slightly and stood up. “I will take my leave now. I will give you a little while to say good-bye. Once again, I stress that it is easier both for the girl and for you if it goes more quickly but I will not rush you beyond that. Takako, once your father leaves, please remain in this room. I will return shortly to give you a quick tour of the house and then we will find you a bed so you may get some rest.”

  The woman left, her bare feet not making a sound on the polished wooden floor, and Takako’s father came over to his firstborn daughter. He wrapped her up so in an embrace that squeezed the breath out of her. He continued to hold her for a long time. Takako soon realized that her father was crying as his tears ran down into her hair.

  “Please forgive me. I know you don’t know what is happening right now, but when you do figure it out, please forgive me. I swear to you that if there was another path I would have taken it.”

  He turned around and started walking out the door. Takako thought she had never seen her father so defeated. Shouldn’t her first employment be a joyful day? Takako regained her senses long enough to rush up to him to embrace him again before he left. She didn’t know what was happening, but she did know that she wasn’t going to be seeing her father for a very long time.

  Moments after her father left the woman came back into the room. Even closing her eyes, Takako imagined that she could sense the woman’s presence. It was difficult to tell what type of woman she was. On the outside she continued to smile and was the perfect image of a caring woman. But Takako couldn’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t right about her. It was as if a flexible mask had been placed over a demon trying to convince the world of its goodness.

  Unfortunately Takako had no proof of her feelings. The woman was polite, and even with her father gone the woman’s attitude did not change. She continued to be kind and gentle, leaving no room to suspect any wrongdoing.

  Her reverie was interrupted by the woman. “You may call me ‘Madame.’ All the ladies do, and that is sufficient. I run this business. There is one more piece of business I need to take care of before letting you rest tonight. I need you to take off all of your clothes and lie down.”

  Takako stared ahead. “What do you mean?”

  “I need you to take off your clothes so that I may examine you. I need to make sure you are healthy and in the condition you were promised. If not your father will not leave this building.”

  Takako misunderstood. A glimmer of hope flickered in her heart. Perhaps she wouldn’t be right, and her father would come and get her back. She had to bring honor to her house though, so her hopes remained silent. “My father says that I never get sick. He is proud of that. He says it is unusual for a girl to never get sick.”

  “I’m sure that your father is a very smart man, but I need to see for myself so I can take the best care of you.”

  Takako took a couple of breaths to think about it. For some reason the men at the door occurred to her. She had a vision, just a fleeting thought, that this wasn’t so much a house as it was a prison. Whatever this woman said was law here. She started undressing. Madame watched her with eyes that never seemed to blink, making Takako uncomfortable.

  When she was done Madame moved with a practiced ease. She looked her up and down, spending a lot of time peering between Takako’s legs. Takako felt like she was being judged, even though Madame gave no expression, no hint of what was passing through her mind.

  Madame drew back slowly. “How old are you?”

  “I’ve seen ten cycles, but soon I’ll turn eleven.”

  “Did you know your father said you were older than that?”

  “No. He knows I’m ten. I’m often told I look older than I am though because I am so tall.”

  “Do you have any idea why you’re here?”

  Takako hung her head. “No.”

  The woman stepped away from Takako and started pacing through the room. She kept glancing at Takako. Even Takako knew that the woman was trying to figure out what to do with her. Her father had lied, and this woman’s plans had not gone as she had expected.

  “Not what I expected, but this could work out well. You are too perfect to be used up at ten. Ten is too young. Not that there aren’t men who would pay very handsomely for your work, but it would wear you out too quickly. You need to be older if I’m going to get the most out of you.”

  When Madame said “work” Takako had the impression that she was referring to something else. Madame came to a decision.

  “I think you will become very valuable to me. You will start out as a house assistant. You will cook, clean, and assist the other women with their needs. When you turn fifteen I will sell your maidenhead. With your exposure in the house, I should be able to fetch a pretty sum. What do you think of that?”

  “I am here to work for you. I need to bring honor back to our house.”

  Madame laughed. “Well, I don’t think that’s going to happen here, but I will take care of you. Each of my women is important to me because you will work for me for a very long time.”

  The woman stood up and motioned for Takako to follow her. She led Takako up to the third floor to another room which had a comfortable bed, dresser, and mirror. “Go to sleep Takako. Tomorrow is the first day of the rest of your life.”

  CHAPTER SIX

  Moriko’s family had always lived on the boundary between forest and farmland. Although Moriko was only seven she already knew the story. Her great-great-grandfather had selected this land after a long process. Her ancestor had been a soldier in the militia but was looking for an out of the way place to settle down in peace and raise a family. He had chosen well. Throughout the generations the family had alternated between two incomes. They brought in money both from farming and from the lumber they cut. When times were good, Moriko’s family did quite well. When times were bad they they still thrived.

  For Mori
ko and her family it was timber which made the most profit. Moriko’s father still planted the land, but most of it was saved for the family to decrease their expenses during the cold months. It was a large family with six children, four boys and two girls. Moriko was the fourth oldest after two of the boys and her older sister. The family all pitched in. Moriko’s two older brothers helped their father in the forest cutting down the trees. Moriko, her sister, and her two younger brothers kept the fields and the house. Moriko was envious of her older brothers. She wanted to be out in the forest with her father.

  Even at seven Moriko knew she was different from the rest of her family. It was true that the rest of her family was loud and boisterous, but her differences went much deeper. She was always curious and always wanted to learn, often receiving long talks from their father because she was the only child who would listen.

  A few days ago Moriko had been out in the forest with her father. They spent most of the day doing business, her father teaching her what trees should be cut next and for what purpose. Moriko’s mother didn’t approve of her getting such an education, but Moriko’s father knew how much it meant to her, and he didn’t see any reason why she couldn’t learn the business as well as a son. As the late afternoon approached her father took her deeper into the woods, into the old forest. Her father, though a practical man, still kept to the old ways. The edges of the forest with the younger trees were excellent places to ply his trade. But he always planted new trees to replace the ones he had cut. He never cut more than was needed, and he never, never, harmed an old tree.

  Moriko had asked him about it once, but all he said was that the old trees were special and that to cut them down would be a terrible thing to do.

  Like her father, Moriko held a reverence for the old forest. She loved how it was quiet and dark. She couldn’t help but feel these were the kinds of places where the stories she grew up with occurred. She imagined she could feel all the different animals around her, and at times she even believed she could feel the trees, like old men and women watching over the passing of the world.

  Throughout their walk Moriko asked her father about all the animals. It didn’t take her long to realize that her father, who always seemed to know so much more about the forest than anyone else, didn’t always notice the animals she did. Moriko would often ask about an animal, point in the general direction of the creature, and ask her father a question about it. But he didn’t always see it and sometimes didn’t even know it was there.

  Moriko didn’t think much on it until they returned home. Her mother and father exchanged the usual pleasantries, but the conversation was about Moriko. She couldn’t hear them, but they cast frequent glances her way while talking in hushed tones. She wondered what they were saying, but she had the impression she had done something wrong.

  Moriko was not given much free time, but what she had she used in wandering through the woods. It was a habit that frustrated her mother, but her father always said that Moriko knew the forest so well it was the other predators that should be afraid of her. Moriko’s mother didn’t laugh at the joke but followed her husband’s wishes.

  The old forest was a second home to Moriko. It was quiet and gave her time to think about whatever she wanted to think about. There was never anyone waiting impatiently for an answer or response. Moriko wasn’t a slow thinker, but she always thought deeply. The unwillingness of people to wait for an answer always struck her as unfair and rude. If someone asked a question they should be willing to wait for the best possible answer.

  One night Moriko’s family had a guest, an unusual occurrence. When Moriko’s ancestor had chosen the land he had chosen it well out of the way of those who would pass by. People only came to their house with intent, so visitors were rare. This visitor was a complete stranger. Moriko had never seen anyone like him before. His clothes were not rough like the ones her entire family wore. They were fine and did not show the wear that her father’s did. The man’s head was shaved, and he wore a permanent grin on his face that Moriko was convinced was false. But it was the first time she had ever seen her father bow his head in submission. She had seen him do it politely before, but never to the degree he did when the strange man entered their house.

  Moriko decided she didn’t like the man. It was more than just his clothes. It was his demeanor and presence. Moriko had never felt what she was experiencing when she looked at him. She felt like he was somehow glowing. She didn’t understand it. No one else seemed to think anything was strange about him, but he seemed brighter than anyone else in the room. Moriko wanted to ask her father why the man was brighter, but knew the interruption wouldn’t be welcome. She sat on her questions, fear and curiosity burning through her.

  The conversation was brief but serious. Moriko heard enough to know what was happening. It was a monk from the nearest monastery who had heard about the household. No one from the monastery ever came this way, but he had come to rectify the situation. He would test each of the children to see if any had the sense. He looked directly at Moriko as he spoke.

  Moriko was too young to know why her father didn’t protest. She didn’t know that the monasteries were backed by the full military might of the Kingdom, and she didn’t know that her father had no choice. All she knew was that her father was doing whatever this man was asking.

  When the monk began his testing Moriko’s fears began to dissolve. All he would do was hold his hand up to the child’s forehead. Whatever kind of test it was, Moriko was confident she could pass it. They went by age. Her two brothers and sister went ahead of her and each returned to their place at the table. When it was her turn Moriko walked up without fear, confident she would pass as they did.

  The monk rested his hand against her forehead. She was surprised by the cold firmness of the man’s hand. It was as though he didn’t have a heartbeat. Moriko looked up at the monk. His eyes were as wide as saucers. Moriko became scared again, even more so when the man smiled at her. “Your daughter is blessed.”

  Moriko watched her parents closely. Her mother held her hand to her mouth, but her father just nodded as if it was the news he had been expecting all along. “I will pack her things.”

  The stranger held up his hand. “It will not be necessary. Everything she needs will be provided. She will be safe, and we will protect her from others and herself.”

  Her father bowed again. “Thank you.”

  Moriko’s mind was racing. She didn’t know what was happening underneath the surface of the conversation. It sounded like she was going to leave with this man, but why didn’t her father fight? There was no way he would let her go. She was his favorite.

  Moriko started to protest, but the sounds died in her throat when she saw the expression on her family’s faces. There was no love anywhere around the table. They had all shifted away from her. They were scared. And angry at her. Why? Even her father, who had always been so kind to her, had a cautious look in his eyes. None spoke up to convince the man to leave her here at home.

  She looked from face to face, seeking support, seeking someone who would ask her to stay. Just the previous night they had all been laughing at her faces around the table. Today she was a stranger who had wandered into their house.

  Moriko started to cry. No one was going to help her. No one did help her.

  There was silence in the room until Moriko felt a hand on her shoulder. She looked up, expecting to see the smiling face of her father telling her it would all be fine.

  But it wasn’t. It was the strange man. He was smiling a smile that wasn’t a smile, telling her it would all be fine.

  Moriko followed the man meekly out of the door. She didn’t want to, but she also knew that there was no way to get away from this man without the help of her family. She climbed on the man’s horse, her quick mind numb. As they started their journey away from the only home Moriko had ever known, she risked one glance back towards her home, hoping that maybe someone had come to wish her farewell. The house looked warm and
inviting, but not one family member was outside watching her leave.

  The journey to the monastery was uneventful. The monk, whose name Moriko discovered was Goro, tried to engage her in conversation, but was stymied by her persistent silence.

  She thought about trying to escape. There were opportunities, but Moriko didn’t know what she would do after. Her family was the only comfort she had ever known. There were no relatives or friends to escape to. Her only home had already closed its doors to her. The only open doors were to the monastery.

  In her silence Moriko wondered what the monastery would look like. She imagined it as a grand castle with buildings rising high in the sky. It would be filled with wonderful people. The monks were very brave. All the stories said so. Maybe she just got a bad monk.

  Her heart sank when they crested a small hill and the monastery came into view. It was a gray and dreary day, and the monastery itself was remarkable only for how unremarkable it was. The most distinguishing feature it possessed was a solid wall just higher than the height of an average man. The wall was made of wood, and as they passed through the gates Moriko was struck by how peaceful everything appeared. She had expected the monastery to be larger, more alive. The grounds were almost as dead as the barren plains outside the walls. The compound wasn’t large, and Moriko saw that it would be a short and easy sprint from one wall to the other. In one corner a group of youths about her age were exercising under the supervision of one of the monks. None of them appeared happy to be moving, but they also didn’t seem sad or angry. Moriko reserved her judgment, although the place wasn’t as exciting as she’d hoped.

  They came to a stop and dismounted. A monk who had been working on some chores walked over to Moriko. He smiled a genuine smile, and Moriko’s heart lifted. Not all monks were like Goro. It was going to be fine. “Welcome to Perseverance.” Moriko looked at the monk with a question in her eyes, which was enough for him to elaborate. “I forget that not everyone is a monk. Although the monasteries don’t have names according to the outside world, the earliest monks after the war found it necessary to have some naming system to distinguish them. Monasteries were named after qualities the monks treasured. Although there aren’t many monasteries anymore the practice is still maintained.”