Flight of the warrior- 19

A plan begins to take shape

They made their return silently, pausing only to drink from the small creek, parched from training.

It started to snow softly just as they closed the door of the inn, shutting out the chill. In their small room, he stoked the fire, bringing it back to life, so it was giving off a warm glow and heating their tired muscles.

She felt anxious, her stomach tight like a bow pulled back and held in place. Surely the boat that she hoped would bring Tomoe to her would not bring the kage. That would be a cruel twist of fate. Blake had calculated that Nakano would not reach the island for a couple of weeks. Could he be wrong? She decided no good would come of thinking about it. So instead she concentrated on what she would ask Tomoe.

She felt instinctively that this old woman could help her. She would know something about the ronin that would be invaluable when they inevitably met again. She knew she was better with the jian than she had been that fateful night. She had even taught herself to recall the swords if they were torn from her hand and this she felt could be key to her success. But still she was still unable to fly without first running, and the messages she sought hard to read seemed still a foreign language to her.

Deep in these thoughts Blake interjected, "Is there anything else I can teach you, anything you want to ask me?"

"Yes," she nodded, "messages. How do you read them, or connect to them?"

He turned toward the fire prodding the embers aimlessly so she could not see his face. Strange how he offen did this, so much to hide.

"You take your focus inward, like meditating. The messages fly in smoke around you, many of them. You have to tap into what you are seeking otherwise you get lost in the noise."

"I can't see them. I heard them when I was very tired at the ravine, before I landed. It sounded like a hundred voices all talking at once."

He nodded but remained facing the fire. "I don't know much about how you learn to see them. I am not sure if you can. I have been able to do it since I was small. My father apparently had the same skill."

The first time he had spoken about his family. It was a moment that was not lost on her. She decided to probe. "Did your father give you the katanas?"

He turned deliberately as if preparing his countenance so that inspection would fail to pick up any telltale changes. She knew that expressionless face well. "Never knew him, so no he did not give me the katanas."

She decided to change tactic, perhaps it was better to give information and possibly he would reciprocate. "My father was a product of mixed marraige between a Scottish highlander and Japanese woman. My mother was Nordic. My father died at sea, and my mother came to Japan to settle, she sent for me later when I had finished my schooling. By the time I reached here she had died also."

He looked at her, the mask dropping for a moment, concern clearly painted in his expression. "So we both perhaps know little of our parents," she added, searching his eyes of any reaction. There was none, the mask returned and she knew the window of opportunity had closed.

"I intend on meeting him alone. This is a personal battle. I understand you wish to take him back to your employer to face justice. I don't see that is possible. It is my hope that I can bring some retribution for all the women he has harmed."

"I believe you underestimate his powers." His voice was controlled, flat.

"I think I am best positioned to know exactly what power he has in comparison to mine," she felt a flash of anger, sharp like stone on flint. "I have been thinking about what is best, and I have some idea of when he will be at his weakest."

This time his face was contorted as if someone had driven a spike into his side, and was slowly turning it and driving it deeper. His voice was breathless and gravelly, "No, not like that."

"My choice Blake," she said simply.

"Not the right one." He looked fierce, as if he was going to pick her up and shake her. But he stayed where he was, in front of the fire, blazing more than the small fire ever could.

Flight of the warrior- 18

Training

He had slept little since the end of their conversation.

For many hours after Freya got into bed he was still fighting his anger. Several times he had made up his mind to leave the island, cut off Nakano and make the man pay for his crime. He knew the direction he was coming from- it would be easy. Then he would never get anywhere near her again.

But he knew this would be a horrible risk, if Nakano was to ellude him he would reach the island and Freya would be alone. He could not think about what would happen then.

So as the sun began to break through thick cloud, and the moon sunk low, he made his final decision. He would do what he could to help her train. And he hoped like hell that Tomoe arrived soon, to add her wisdom to Freya's defences. More importantly he hoped Tomoe would talk sense into Freya, convince her it was better to let him handle the kage. They had not spoken about it outright, but he felt she had plans that did not include him when it came to Nakano despite the deal made in the Matsukawa ravine.

He dressed hastily and went downstairs to order their breakfast. He was keen to avoid the fat nosy owner as offen as possible, as the obnoxious man was always asking questions thinly veiled with innuendo. This morning he was not spared the conversation. As he descended the last steps he could hear the fat owner berating his wife. He sat down on the mat atop a raised platform and waited for the tea to be brought out. "You look tired this morning tomodachi. Kept you up all night did she?"

"Breakfast to take upstairs please." He ignored the stupid question. Then thinking on his feet, he asked, "I wish to take the lady on a nature walk today. Where might you suggest we may go, remembering we do not wish to be interrupted?" He added a wink to amplify the point, hating himself for the gesture.

"Oh yes I know what you mean. I know the spot for you and the pretty lady, yes I do." He was rubbing his hands together and licking his lips. The combination was grotesque. "Follow the river inland behind the inn here, and about 30 minutes later you will come to a clearing at a bend in the river. There is a rocky overhang and some flat ground where the lady might want to lay down and rest." He continued to lick his lips, chuckling to himself. Blake was saved further conversation by the owner's wife with a tray of food and tea. He took the tray silently and made his way back to the room.

Freya was staring into the hearth when he entered. "Good morning," he said giving her what he thought would be his warmest smile. She returned the smile, but seemed self conscious.

They sat and ate their breakfast silently, until he could handle it no longer. "I am glad you....well, perhaps glad is not the word...." He looked down at his tea, muttering to himself, "This is difficult."

She was looking at him, concern on her face, so he added quickly, the words once uttered began falling, "What you told me.... I am relieved you feel you can confide in me. I do not think a burden such as that you shoulder should be carried alone."

He saw relief pass across her face, but it was gone in an instant, replaced by cold fortitude. "Thankyou, I appreciate the sentiment. This burden, as you put it, can only be mine though. Once he arrives then I will face him, and hopefully the outcome will be different to our last meeting."

She still had designs on facing him alone? Surely that was at best unwise, and worst suicide. But perhaps now was not the time to push the issue. She continued, "I did not tell you what happened so you could share my weight. When this is done, the only damage wrought should be on that man. Do you understand? I could not stand it if anyone else was hurt."

He did not know what to say. Instead he motioned to the swords, "We should get going. I asked the owner about a spot where we can go." He rose and got ready, and she followed his lead.

The walk served as an opportunity to clear his head. Once at the spot the owner had mentioned he removed his large overcoat and unsheathed the katana he wore of his right hip. He felt it was best to waste no time. "Have you ever held this type of sword?"

She shook her head.

He motioned for her to come closer and held out the katana. She took it gingerly as if it would bite. "Heavier than yours?"

"Much," she said. She took a closer look. It was a single blade, quite blunt on one side and razor sharp on the other. The craftsmanship was evident. "Who gave this to you?"

"Not important now," he did not mean to be dismissive, so he added, "It is a long story and I will tell you it one day."

"You have two?" she asked.

"Yes, I can fight with both or one, this depends on the situation. If I was fighting a few men, I would use both to defend both sides of my body and protect my torso from strikes. If I was fighting one man, particularly if he was strong, I would fight with one sword two handed."

"You have fought several men at once?" she seemed shocked.

He answered, "Yes."

"And you have lived?" there was a suspicious tone in her voice and he did not like it.

"Freya, I have fought many times, in wars, private battles, ambushes, hand to hand. If you are hell bent on fighting Nakano I will not stop you but I can show you how to defend and when to attack. If you do not trust my help, then why ask me?"

"Do you think I should use both jian?"

"Yes. He will expect you to fight with one, like you did last time. I think that with two, and taking the speed you have, you may be able to find an advantage."

She had removed the leather sleeves that held her swords when they arrived at the stone overhang. They were lying on the ground a few feet from her. She held out her open hands and both swords flew into her waiting grip. "Perhaps we could run through some defensive moves first."

He stood with his single katana, blade facing up but sword lowered, looking from the empty leather sleeves to the jian in her hands. He had never seen anyone do that before. He thought he had seen a magic trick. She noticed his surprise and looked down on the ground as if embarrassed. "He disarmed me fairly quickly last time. I have been able to teach myself some new skills."

Then she raised one jian high, holding the other low and stood waiting for him to attack.

They sparred for an hour, taking short breaks for her to catch her breath and for him to adjust her technique. She was very strong for her size and he noticed that she learned very quickly. He knew that she moved fast from the experience in the cave. He pushed her. Everytime she began to predict his moves, he stepped up the intensity and his speed. Twice he knocked a jian from her hand only to watch mystified as after hitting the ground it flew back into her grip. On the third ocassion he stood on the hilt before she could recall it. She glared at him. "He will do this you know," he said in a soft tone.

"I know," was her reply.

"Have you a plan?"

She shook her head, looking wildly around her, as if she expected the kage to arrive at any time. She looked like a caged bird. "I wanted to speak to Tomoe to see if she knew anything more about him, something I could use to my advantage. She must know him I think, if you say she is famous and fought in the war. Maybe she knew him? I hope she arrives soon."

He leapt up onto the rock that sat high above the creek bed. Taking a moment to connect to the messages he noticed that there was a threat on the wind, something bigger than Nakano. He decided to investigate it further that afternoon if he could find a moment to be on his own. He re-focussed his energy to look at messages of a more personal nature. There was a small boat approaching the south of the island but he could not make out any more information. He expected Tomoe to cloak her coming to avoid any possible connection to Freya. That was smart.

"I am not sure," he called to her, "but I believe that a boat may be only hours away." He jumped back down. Taking a few steps so he was a few feet away, "But it could well be anyone, possibly even the kage himself. It is always best to be on guard."

She looked instantly scared, as if with the flick of a switch. "I am not ready Blake."

"I am here Freya, should it be him, he will face four blades." She gave a weak smile. "Let's go back to the inn."

Flight of the Warrior- 17

Rough journey

The fisherman had said he was going north on an exploratory sail to see if there were alternate fishing grounds that may be more lucrative. He insisted that Tomoe come along for she alone could warn him of bad weather. The daimyo had fallen for the story and they were not hampered when they left port. They expected no atakebune to follow them.

The first day had been slow going, choppy seas and wind that tended to squall from all points on the compass. The second day she tapped into the messages and saw clearly the reason why going had been so painstakingly slow. The little junk was being played with by the god of storms and seas, Susanoo. There was little she could do to appease him, so she informed the captain to push on. The rest of the day had played out much like the first, leaving the small crew on edge and tired.

By the third morning she decided she must do something to assist their safe passage. The wind was out of the North again and it seemed to be increasing. Black clouds where hugging the Western coastline, and she did not like the feeling in the air one bit. Her old joints told her the air pressure was dropping. Quickly tapping into the messages she was struck by how much closer the mongols where. It would not be long now, perhaps a month or two before they were at war. Moving her focus to more pressing matters she requested a private audience with Susanoo. He arrived some time later, swirling in purple cloud. Out on the deck the small crew huddled together. They could not see the presence of the divinity but knew something was happening, as the water around the small boat suddenly flattened like glass and the wind that had previously been tearing at the small canvas sail was gone. They whispered to each other, "Funayūrei!" The Funayūrei, Tomoe thought were the least of their problems. In fact if she could not appease Susanoo, then the crew were destined to join those who died at sea- become one of the Funayūrei.

"You are angry with me great one?" she asked Susanoo.

He came to rest on the jib of the small boat. His form moving in and out of purple cloud. He nodded at her.

"I have taken your sport, by informing the fishermen when it was not safe to launch their vessels."

He nodded again.

"A ronin warrior will soon fly from the mainland to the island in the north, the one we are seeking. If we can make it to Sadogashima before this warrior arrives, perhaps a life can be saved."

Susanoo stared down at her but she dared not return the gaze, it would be disrespectful. They had met before on the turret of the tower, and at that meeting she had been bold. The village had paid the price, with three fishing boats destroyed and nine men lost at sea.

"I thank you for coming to listen to my case." She bowed her head low, as low as her old body would let her.

Then Susanoo was gone. She returned to upright and felt the wind pick up again. This time from the south, a spritely playful wind, filling the little sail so that the junk pushed on at a lively clip. She smiled to herself. She had no idea what she had said that made Susanoo change his mind but she was dreadfully glad he had. Glancing over to the shoreline she noticed the black clouds retreat further inland. The danger for the moment at least had passed.

She smiled at the small crew. Their faces pale, they were beginning to busy themselves by tending to the lines, ensuring they got the most out of the little boat. The captain approached her, squeezing her hand he said, "You are a clever one shimai, now the men will think you an Arikura-no-baba."

"That is because I am brother, and you well know it." She tugged playfully at his ear and went back to the small salon to shelter from the wind and count her blessings.

Flight of the warrior- 16

Practicalities

"You have been awake all this time?" he asked.

She nodded.

She must have been sitting there all night with her own thoughts, at the end of the futon, still wearing the navy robe he had bought for her. He recalled she was in exactly the same position when he had gone to sleep. She looked tired and troubled.

"Worried about Tomoe? I am sure she is on her way. I imagine she will come by sea and the wind has been against her for two days. She should arrive in a day or two."

"I am not worried about Tomoe." She would not look at him, perhaps she had been crying. He straightened slightly in the chair.

"You are worried about something?" She nodded. "Can you tell me?" he asked, shifting again nervously in his chair. The candle burned low and he could just make out her profile. He could feel her reticence, even though he could not clearly see her face. "The kage, he won't be here for a couple of weeks, I am confident of that."

She shook her head, "No....I trust you. I think there is time."

"So what keeps you up half the night if it is not the kage?" He regretted asking her the second the question had left his lips. He remembered his last words to her before he went to sleep. "What I said before about the robe, I was....." he could not tell her the truth, he had to create a lie, but he struggled to find a believable one. She saved him the trouble.

"I have not told you everything about the night I was attacked. Perhaps it is time you knew." She pulled her legs up to hug them with her arms, rocking slightly making herself small. He guessed the movement was involuntary.

"He did....." she stopped, dropping her head to her knees. Again he had a difficult time controlling the urge to go over and hold her.

"Do I need to know? If it is painful to tell me....perhaps it is better unsaid." He wanted to say she owed him nothing, he wanted to say he could not cope seeing her in pain, he wanted to say so much. And all he had said that night was an ill timed remark implying ownership. He had spent too many years in the company of men, soldiers. He had become crass and blunt, exactly like the men he was invariably hired to find.

She spoke, her head still lowered, forehead resting on her knees, "If we are to spend some more time together it is best there is nothing unknown. When the truth is left out, what remains is built on unsteady ground. I need to be able to trust you-"

"And you can, please, I know what I said earlier was, well, at best a lewd thing to say, but I swear I will never lay a hand on you, unless it is to defend your life." His voice was broken and rough and he was surprised by the emotion he felt.

She looked up, and quickly added, "I do trust you. I am the one who has not told you everything, who has implied I am something I am not. I am trying to right that wrong...I was going to say you need to be able to trust me. It will be hard to do that if I conceal an important fact."

"Okay." He braced himself, he could feel the tension rise, as if the room was full of energy and at any moment it would just explode turning them both into a million particles scattered and falling like stars.

She inhaled slow and deliberate and closed her eyes tightly, "He did take something that was not offered that night. The once. Before I got away. He was....not gentle, I was thrown up against a boulder. You can guess the rest."

He had to stand up and walk around the small room, anything to contain the anger he felt rising from the pit of his gut.

"Please," she said quietly, "please don't hate me for suggesting I was not....harmed. I had just met you, I was not ready to admit it myself."

He could not answer, his voice would betray his feelings, and he had done quite enough of that for one day. He continued to pace, until he heard her quietly crying. The sound tore at his heart and he sat back down.

"If we are to be here for two weeks, and any investment is made...emotionally, then it is important for me to explain what I have to offer is very little." She was almost whispering and yet every word was like a bell being struck.

He nodded. He knew she was looking at him, but he could not look at her. He felt he would cry out, reach for her and never let her go, keep her safe in his arms. But that was not practical.

"I want to learn how to fight against a katana. Will you teach me tomorrow?"

Again he nodded, and feeling all his resolve fall away he said, "The little you have to offer is more than any man deserves."

Flight of the warrior- 15

The long night

She sat for some time on the edge of the bed, staring at her hands. Deep in thought.

Occasionally she glanced up at the tracker, he had started to breathe very deeply and his head lolled to the side. Sleeping peacefully it seemed. The moon was shielded by heavy cloud so it was difficult to tell what time it was, but she new it to be a late hour. She should be asleep as well.

Several thoughts troubled her.

It was quite inconcievable, she thought - looking at the slight smile playing on his lips, remnants of the same satisfied smile that accompanied those shocking words- that he might have developed feelings for her. Yet there were signs this was the case.

There were however a number of possible reasons for his behaviour that may have little to do with attachment and more to do with attraction. It was the deliberation of these reasons that was keeping her head from the pillow. She felt it was not unreasonable to expect given what they had shared an attraction might grow. She cast another glance at the tracker. By the light of the candle she could not help but notice his striking features. She hoped she offered him something agreeable to contemplate in return.

The fact remained that she was being hunted and at some point the kage would find her. She must focus on her preparation.

Still she could not help but remember the looks he stole, while she was supposedly pre-occupied. Certainly nothing overt.  He may be trying to find some pleasure in the present moment, the future being uncertain. A flirtation.

She needed to be sensible...there was the matter of the curse. So acting on feelings, either felt or imagined was not a possibility. And she simply could not reconcile how any man could desire her if they knew she had been damaged.

But he did not know, she had omitted that detail.

She asked herself if she wanted him around under these circumstances? It certainly changed things. She needed to stay focussed, not sit up till all hours, losing valuable sleep contemplating feelings that might not exist.

Complications she did not welcome.

Yet those eyes sweeping down her body, taking in the robe bought for her, this was attention she was alarmed to admit made her heart beat a little faster.

There was a part of her that hoped she could live a normal life once this nightmare was over, that she might glow at the touch of a man. It was an irresistable dream. And perhaps swept up in this possibility, she had simply lost a grip on reality.

Round in circles she went, until she felt she was bordering on mania. No single thought seemed to have any merit or logic.

It was then he woke.