by Jeff Gunzel
“Do you think this to be some sort of game?” Kelus boomed as color flooded his face, showing even through the white paint. Nima looked to Eric, shaking her head vigorously with her eyes bulged, a desperate plea to stop angering their leader. The others wore similar expressions of horror, wondering what in the world he was thinking. Had he lost his mind? Long black fingernails clacked angrily across the table over and over again, playing their song of promised punishment. “I should have you hung and put on display for all to see. Believe me, I would have no shortage of support in that decision.”
“And who exactly are you to make such decisions?” said Eric quickly, his voice smooth and calm, but his glare burning a hole through Kelus.
“Wha— Why, I’m— What are you talking abou—” Kelus’s voice began to quiver and break. Eric’s eyes were cool ice, a hawk watching a mouse. “I…You must obey—” A panicked glance across the room betrayed the tall man’s thoughts.
Eric leaned away from the table. “I no longer wish to play this game. I’m done speaking to you.” The man’s mouth opened and shut wordlessly as Eric pointed back toward the tent opening with a steady finger. Every eye in the room followed his gaze. “I want to speak with him.”
The thin, bald man stood at the entrance with his arms folded across his chest, his seemingly ever-present smile warming the tension in the room. Nima quickly looked away, a failed attempt to hide the tight smile that flashed across her face. The tall man shrieked with anger, “You make no decisions here! You answer only to m—”
“Silence, Hitoshi,” said the small man, his constant smile never wavering. “He knows.”
Eyes wide with shock watched as Eric moved toward the small man. “Kelus,” he said with a slight bow, his eyes low.
The small man lightly pushed up on Eric’s chin, forcing their eyes to meet. “Dongtea bretea. It’s a pleasure.” He peeked around Eric’s huge frame. “Hitoshi.” The tall man slapped his arms to his sides, lowering his head. “Brotyu Ke ti lango.” He looked around the table, his kind eyes taking in each startled individual one at a time. “Entertain our guests. I want to speak with this man...privately.” Hitoshi began to protest, but was silenced by a hard look. “They have shown no aggression thus far, and until they do...” the little man’s dark eyes momentarily flared with anger that was gone in a flash, replaced once again with calm patience. Hitoshi closed his mouth and silently nodded agreement. Kelus turned back to Eric, “Come and walk with me. We have much to discuss.”
* * *
The forest was not dense by any means. Scattered trees provided minimal cover as the two walked side by side down the leaf-covered path. Eric’s senses remained heightened, like an animal sure danger lurked around every corner. A light snap of a twig off to the side, the soft cooing of a large white-feathered bird he had never seen before, even the constant crunching of dead leaves seemed to rattle through him with each careful step. The forest was calm by almost any measure, yet he could still feel it teeming with life, as if each living creature were watching, somehow holding some personal interest in their conversation.
“A wonderful day for a walk, is it not?” said the small man as he shuffled along, a lively walk far too spry for a man of his advanced years. “I have walked this path countless times, yet I never tire of its mystery and beauty. Somehow it feels different to me every time—a new adventure, if you will.” He stopped and turned, suddenly smacking an open hand into Eric’s chest, stopping him dead in his tracks. Again, the speed at which this little man moved completely defied his age. Eric silently cursed himself. Had he been holding a dagger, I would be dead. Have got to be more careful... Trust no one. “Stop right here,” Kelus said, smiling up at Eric. “Do you see that tree over there?”
“Which one? I see many trees,” Eric replied as his eyes scanned across the area.
“See, right there.” The small man shook his finger toward an old, withered tree to the left of the path. The trunk was bent, and covered with peeling flakes of black bark. “Look closely, boy. There is a fresh hole near the upper portion of the tree.” Eric strained his eyes before nodding his agreement. There was indeed a hole exposing the fresh cream-colored wood. “That hole was not there yesterday. The tree now looks different to me.” He beamed, as if that were all the explanation anyone could ever need, but reading Eric’s confused expression, he went on. “I have seen that tree a thousand times, but it will never again look the way I’ve always remembered it. It’s changed forever, that’s what’s so exiting about it. Each time I walk this path, something is always a little different.” He stopped and turned to Eric, looking a bit more serious this time. “That is how life is, my boy. Ever-changing, whether or not we take the time to stop and appreciate it.” He looked off to the forest, eyes distant, as if reliving some old memory. “When you have lived as many years as I have, the little things in life become rather precious.”
Eric took a deep breath, considering the old man’s words. There was a time when he too, had appreciated the little things in life, a simple time not so long ago, but now it felt like decades had passed since his years as a simple blacksmith. He’d led a false life that had already been scripted for him, yet Eric would do almost anything to get those years back. “You asked me to walk with you, yet your guards didn’t come with us. Seeing as how you know very little about me or my friends, do you think this was a wise decision?”
The little man began walking again, that warm smile returning to his face. “Should I be afraid, my boy? Is that how things are where you’re from? Everyone simply must have bad intensions until proven otherwise.”
Waves of guilt began to roll through Eric’s stomach. “I didn’t mean to—”
“No, no. It’s quite alright,” the old man said in a lighthearted tone. “It seems I’ve made a decision and will have to live with the consequences. Now then, do you mean to do me harm?”
“Of course not,” said Eric calmly. “I admit I don’t understand your ways, and I’m in no place to question anything, but don’t you think a little caution may have been a worthy investment? What if I were to attack you right now?”
The old man stopped and turned to face him, inches separating the two. “So what’s stopping you, boy?” he whispered.
They stared at one another for some time before Eric finally spoke. He uncrossed his arms and swept a hand across both sides of the path. “They are,” he whispered back.
Men clothed from head to toe in black leather slowly materialized out of thin air. Sparse woody bushes with virtually no leaves for cover produced two and three assassins at a time. Matted dry leaves rustled around as camouflaged men crawled up from the ground. Others levitated down from the trees, twirling about like spiders on clear thin strands that could not even be seen.
Within seconds they were completely surrounded, each man down on one knee with their heads low, gripping the double katanas strapped to their backs. Kelus raised his eyebrow, unable to mask his surprise.
Eric’s gaze roamed out across two-dozen trained killers, posed to strike at a moment’s notice. He shrugged, then continued walking as if they weren’t even there.
* * *
Jacob stretched out across the elevated red mattress with his feet propped up on a white lacy pillow covered with embroidered blue birds. With his head on her lap, Athel lightly rubbed circles around his chest as she purred softly. Jade, however, continued to pace about nervously. She couldn’t help but worry about Eric, as she always did, even though there was no reason to believe he was in any danger. That is, not if he was being treated half as well as they were.
The thick blue carpet tickled Jade’s toes as she paced back and forth. Scented oil lamps flickered their soft light while the spicy scent filled the brown-walled room. A sturdy, unstained table held multiple tin trays filled with various foods. Dates, nuts and other assorted dried fruits accompanied the multiple bowls of steamed rice. Short, flat cups surrounded a matching porcelain pitcher containing a light, yet slightly bitter t
ea. The lone window was little more than a flimsy, light, wooden frame: thin wood crossed together was used to hold the waxed paper in place. Although one couldn’t actually see through the smoky paper, moving shadows revealed when someone walked by.
Two dark outlines moved across the window before the light door slid open with a snap. Nima entered the room, her long, black hair hanging loosely down her side, nearly touching her hips. She looked around the room, nodded to herself, then motioned back behind her. A young man wearing a sleeveless black vest and loose white pants entered the room. Although slender for the most part, his exposed arms were sun-darkened and heavily muscled. His hair was spiky, similar to Jacob’s, although dark and a bit longer. The young man was handsome, despite a black eyepatch with five light-blue crystals circling its center. The leather strap slung over his shoulder held a white quiver tightly to his back. The single arrow it held had yellow and black swirl designs twisting up the shaft, and had large, blood-red feathers protruding from the end. After a brief scan, the gaze from his one good eye quickly fell on Athel. “She is the one?” he asked in a youthful yet commanding voice.
“Yes, Amoshi,” said Nima, sounding a bit irritated. It was clear this was now a continuation of an ongoing conversation. “But I’ve already told you she has learned to control it. There is no need for concern.”
His gaze never left Athel as a sad look crossed his face. “You know that isn’t our decision to make,” he said softly. “It’s been many years since someone has developed the seed within. She will need to speak with the elders.” His voice hardened. “You will need to come with us, Athel.”
“She doesn’t need to go anywhere,” Jacob shot back, sitting up from his comfortable position. “I thought all this was over with now, and we could come and go as we please. What more do we have to do to prove ourselves?”
“This does not concern you,” said Amoshi, quickly growing impatient.
“Please, Athel,” said Nima, “I ask that you come with us. I wouldn’t ask unless this was very important. We…we just need to be sure.”
Athel placed her hand on Jacob’s shoulder. “It’s OK, I’ll be fine.” He placed his hand over hers and nodded reluctantly. She moved across the room and stood before the two of them. “I thought we were done with this.”
Nima reached and touched her face softly but said nothing.
“Come, let’s go,” said Amoshi.
* * *
Eric and Kelus marched down the leaf-covered path. Although no longer visible, Kelus’s bodyguards still remained close, inching along in complete silence. Their movements were undetectable to all but the most trained eyes. “If you were planning to kill us, you would have done so already,” Eric said bluntly. “Even though we have brought your people nothing but trouble, you still keep us alive. Why? What is your plan?”
Kelus stretched hard, yawning deeply, as if the question were unimportant. “Oh, I make very few plans, my boy. Life just happens, and we must all adjust as needed.” He looked up as a large white bird with black-tipped wings flew overhead. “For all we know, that grismus bird is just flying about for no particular reason, maybe heading back to its nest high up in a tree somewhere. Or possibly it’s on a hunt, seeking out a squirrel or a small rodent. It’s completely possible it may find exactly what it seeks, then bring it back to her young. It may also find nothing and go hungry, or even come face-to-face with a predator this day, losing its life. Each of these outcomes would result in something very different.” He glanced at Eric with a smug look. “Do you believe the grismus bird is concerned about any of this?”
“Of course not,” chuckled Eric, suddenly finding himself intrigued by the simplicity of this old man’s views on life.
“That’s right, my boy. Life will happen, no matter what we do. There is no sense in ever planning anything. All we can do is react to what life throws at us, then deal with the consequences.” He gazed up once more, and continued in a soft voice, as if speaking only to himself, “There is much we can learn from nature.”
The two mismatched men continued on for a bit longer. Eric found the silence comfortable and relaxing. This little man was the clan’s leader and had the final say in all the important matters, but the leader was nothing like what Eric had expected. Day-to-day choices that affected the lives of so many was a burden few people could handle, yet the minuscule leader seemed to take it all in stride. The man was committed to his actions, and made no excuses for the consequences of his choices. A born leader, Eric thought to himself.
“Speak your mind, my boy,” said Kelus, breaking Eric from his daydreaming. “I know you have many questions, but one in particular seems to be on the tip of your tongue.”
Eric cleared his throat. “I want to know who attacked your clan,” he swallowed, hard fearing the answer, “and why.”
Kelus sighed, and the deep sadness in his eyes cut through Eric like a knife. “The Hoshito family was once proud and noble.” He turned slowly, the youthful spring now gone from his step as they continued on down the path. “Much has changed in recent years.”
Eric swallowed again. “If they are so noble, why did they—”
A sharp look from the small man cut him off in mid-sentence. “I think you already know the answer to that.” Eric’s emotions twisted painfully inside him, as if a knife were stabbing his gut.
Wherever I go, suffering follows. The gods themselves could never forgive me. “You know they will be back, then. Why don’t you just hand us over and save yourselves even more suffering?”
“It’s not as if the thought hasn’t crossed my mind. It has; many times, in fact. I could simply hand all of you over to the Hoshito family. You and your friends would most likely be tortured day and night simply for the family’s entertainment. It would be a rather small price to pay to ensure the safety of my people. Don’t you agree?”
Send me and let the others go home. I’ll gladly pay for the world’s sins. “A small price indeed,” said Eric, nodding his agreement.
“However, this is not my intention,” Kelus said with a subtle shrug, as if deciding what to have for lunch.
“I would assume many here would disagree with your decision.”
“And indeed they do, but that choice is not theirs to make. As for my reasoning,” the small man smoothed out his thin black robe as tiny bits of leaves scattered about, “call it a feeling, if you will. The way I see it, they want you, therefore they can’t have you. Good people tend to have good tendencies. Not-so-good people,” he glanced at Eric once again with a sheepish grin, “well, you see where I’m going with this. Although I don’t know what their motives are, I can only assume it would be best not to oblige them.”
Eric nodded again at the man’s logic, but still felt guilty. “I thank you once again for providing us sanctuary, but I would still like to know something. What happened to the Hoshito family? You said they weren’t always like this.”
Kelus sighed. “I knew Aki Hoshito well, it was an honor to call him my friend. His wife Ida was a lovely woman as well. During my many visits, she would serve tea while Aki and I chatted away. He and the family owned the eastern rice fields. Their yearly crop was responsible for feeding nearly all of the local clans. What remained was stored for the winter.” He sighed again, shaking his head with regret. “I was there that fateful night, visiting my old friend, as I did so often.” Eric watched as his frail-looking hands clenched, trembling with rage. “I should have known something was wrong. I could have acted faster. I could have—”
Eric gently placed a hand on the small man’s shoulder. Kelus shivered, momentarily jolted free from the dark memory. He looked at Eric, as if surprised to see him standing there. “It’s alright,” said Eric in a steady voice. “Go on, then. Tell me what happened.”
The small man’s lips tightened. He lowered his gaze and nodded, then continued on down the path. “Aki and Ida loved their children unconditionally, as all parents do, but were aware of their flaws as well. Both Zhou and M
orita lusted for power and were far too ambitious for their own good. They had dark ambitions that bordered on greed. Zhou and Morita barged into the room unannounced as Aki and I were talking. I remember it as if it were yesterday...”
“What is the meaning of this?” Aki exclaimed as he rose from his seat. The well-built man was surprisingly tall for his people. His long, thin mustache hung down, braided directly into his even longer gray beard. Multiple large, gold hoop earrings dangled from each earlobe. He watched as his children stood before him, staring in silence. “I’ll not ask either of you again,” he growled.
“Oh, Father,” said Morita in a soft singsong voice. “I think it’s best we all have a little chat this evening. You see, Zhou and I have been evaluating the way our family does business. The same old ways. The same mistakes repeated year after year. Well, we think it might be time to make a few changes.”
“The ways in which I do business honor our family, as well as provide for the two of you,” said Aki, the anger in his voice growing with every word. “I’ve long been aware of your distaste for my leniency for those who can’t pay up front. Yes, I occasionally even give the rice away to those unable to feed their families, and never once have I regretted helping those in need.” His eyes blazed with fire. “Tell me, loyal children, have either of you ever gone hungry due to my decisions? Do you feel as if your shockingly substantial needs have somehow not been met?”
“A noble speech, Father, but somehow I feel you’re missing the point,” said Zhou, rolling his head with a crackling sound, tensing his muscles as veins popped out all across his arms and neck. “It’s not that we have no pity for the poor souls who are too lazy to work hard and earn a proper living.” He rolled his eyes with disgust. “It’s just that you don’t seem to have the ability to say no...ever. Each tear-filled sob story melts your heart, as if you were some sad little girl nurturing a wounded bird.” He turned his back on his father. “I think it might be time you handed control over to us. I’m afraid you’ve grown too soft in your old age, and it might be best if you simply...faded away.”