Silkpunk and Steam

by Sarina Dorie

  “When you say she didn’t best you during practice, do you mean you won?” one of the grandfather’s asked.

  He lifted his chin, but he didn’t look up from the ground. “Yes.”

  “So you admit you fought a twelve-year-old girl?”

  I was thirteen. And a half. But I held my tongue.

  Petennouk scowled. “She insulted me. She challenged me. She’s a lying sisam. Don’t listen to anything she says.”

  After several attempts to redirect his ranting to what had happened, rather than irrelevant tangents, he told his version of had happened. He claimed I attacked him and he defended himself.

  When he finished he said, “Ask anyone who was there what happened. They’ll tell you of my innocence.” He smirked and in that expression, I could tell he was right that people would tell of his innocence. They would do so out of loyalty and protection to Shiromainu, and he knew it.

  His arrogance made my stomach clench and insides quake with loathing, but I did my best to keep my hands open and flat on my knees, to keep the anger from my posture unlike his own.

  “Shall we send for witnesses?” Shiromainu asked.

  The elders whispered amongst themselves. Finally one grandfather said, “Ei, it is not necessary. We trust Sumiko-san’s words to be true and need no future proof.”

  “What? You believe her over me? She isn’t even one of our tribe. She isn’t even his real wife,” Petennouk blurted out. “She’s a filthy gaijin lover.”

  Shiromainu rapped him across the knuckles with his cane again. “You speak out of turn. Are you as dumb as a tree snail that you never learn?”

  Petennouk’s lips pressed into a thin line.

  “This looks as though it is a tribal matter, not one of family. My recommendation is for death,” said one grandfather.

  “Yes, I agree,” said a grandmother. “According to tradition, he should be caned to death and his family should be held responsible for his actions.”

  The others nodded in approval.

  “Death to the boy and exile to Nipa.”

  “Exile for the boy, and resignation for Nipa.”

  Every verdict stung. Tears filled my eyes. This was not what I wanted.

  Even now, Petennouk’s eyes burned with hatred, not shame. If he’d had his stick from practice just then, I wouldn’t have trusted him not to bash in my head, witnesses or not. I eyed Shiromainu’s cane. It was out of reach.

  The two other elders made their verdicts.

  Grandma Pirka said, “Death is too severe, yet Petennouk-san cannot be exiled since he hasn’t proven himself trustworthy. He may speak of our location to others like the Chiramantepjin or gaijin. I say slavery for the boy, but reduced status for the nipa.”

  Their heads then turned to me.

  “What is your decree, Sumiko-san?”

  Chapter Twelve

  If you are close enough to see a tatsu’s smile, you are in trouble.

  —Jomon proverb

  “My decree?” I asked.

  Grandmother Pirka placed her hand on mine. The black pattern up her arm contrasted with my own, only decorated with a simple black line. “Indeed, when a nipa is unable to make a decision due to personal bias, the duty falls on another council member, usually a close family member in his stead.”

  “Am I not considered biased? I am the one who was attacked, ne?”

  The grandmother’s tone was patient and matter-of-fact. “Yes, and that is why your vote counts doubly. We always consult the victim on his or her opinion. But as Nipa’s second, you are the one who must make the final decision.”

  Shiromainu’s lips turned up in a knowing smile. He had known I would be given the final say. He might have felt better, but I didn’t.

  Suddenly the air in the room felt so stuffy and overwhelming I couldn’t breathe. The eboshi I wore weighed heavy on me and it made it hard to focus. They waited. I swallowed. I couldn’t think.

  “This is an important decision. Might I ask that the council to give me time to think it over?” Time that I might discuss the matter with Shiromainu.

  “We will give you a few minutes to think upon the problem.” Shiromainu bowed his head. “If you wish to take a walk or meditate on the matter, we will remain here waiting until you finish.”

  He wasn’t going to join me? That meant I had to do this alone.

  I bowed and left. I removed the eboshi from my sweaty face as soon as I exited the room and hugged it to my chest. I ran down the corridor and passed people as I flew up the stairs. Someone called my name, but I didn’t answer. I only stopped to rest once inside Nipa’s private garden. The courtyard was outdoors and enclosed by stone walls to allow greater privacy. The path was lines with fruit trees and a small stream trickled under a section of stone fence. A statue of a tanuki guarded the door to an area sealed off from the outer courtyard. I wouldn’t have known the thick plants growing along the wall hid a door to Nipa’s private onsen, but my temporary husband had showed me days before. I threw back the wooden gate and entered the outdoor onsen.

  The spicy fresh perfume of memory moss greeted me. Fingers of mist rose from the heated pool and reached toward me. At last I was alone. I gulped in the warm air, trying to calm myself. I choked and covered my face with my hands. I fell to my knees on the cushion of moss and cried.

  I didn’t know how I could dig myself out of this mess.

  Such a person as Petennouk was bad for all in the tribe. He couldn’t be trusted to behave appropriately or with respect. He endangered the peace of the community and instigated disloyalty to his nipa with his insults. His poor decisions made his family look bad, something that couldn’t be allowed when his relative was leader. If this were the Chiramantepjin village, my brother would have exiled Petennouk.

  One of the elders had wisely pointed out Petennouk had already proven himself disloyal. I didn’t trust him with the knowledge of this secret palace. I had seen Petennouk’s spiteful ways and knew he would betray us to the gaijin for revenge. He was an evil kamuy in boy’s skin. It would be putting everyone here in danger. It would put my brother, Faith and Michi in danger because they would come to live here once Shiromainu accepted them into his clan.

  That meant death was the only choice.

  Shiromainu might be a dignified enough man that he wouldn’t hold it against me or my tribe for deciding this edict. He might allow Faith and the Chiramantepjin to join the tribe anyway.

  But if I chose death, that meant Shiromainu would be disgraced. One of his kin had behaved poorly and their fate was tied together. If I insisted his grandnephew die, Shiromainu would not be able to keep the respect of his people, even if I insisted on some minor penance for the leader. He might allow the two tribes to join, but no one would trust his judgement. The elders might rebel against him, like the one winter when the elders in my tribe had thought Faith carried evil kamuy into our hut and spread disease on purpose. It would be hard enough for the Tanukijin to accept Faith as a gaijin, but if an untrustworthy leader suggested they accept her, she would be shunned, or worse yet, put to death.

  My friends had been right to warn me of telling Shiromainu of his grandnephew’s actions. He was too honorable not to do something about it, even if it would be his undoing. Now the lives of my friends and family hung in the balance.

  The only right decision was death.

  I sat in the garden, listening to the calm burble of the hot springs far longer than I should have. I washed my face and took a few calming breaths before returning my eboshi to my head.

  When I returned to the council chamber, I found two grandfathers napping and most without their eboshi. As the heavy curtains of the hide noren in the doorway closed behind me, I paused with uncertainty. The elders replaced their eboshis and woke the sleeping. I bowed.

  Petennouk sat in a corner, hidden in the shadows. He hugged his knees to his chest like a child. Shiromainu knelt the same as before, his eyes closed as if in meditatio
n.

  I swallowed. “I have come to my decision.”

  I joined the circle, kneeling beside Shiromainu and bowing again.

  “I have faith in whatever punishment you have chosen.” Shiromainu returned my bow with a deep one of his own. His Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat and I suddenly realized he was nervous. He knew what was at stake.

  As slow as a tree snail, Petennouk returned to his position in the circle and kneeled. His shoulders were slumped and his nose was red. I wondered if he’d been crying. My heart felt even heavier now. He looked broken and sorry. He wasn’t an evil kamuy in boy’s skin. He was a foolish young man who knew he’d done wrong. I couldn’t sentence him to death. He was only a few years older than me, younger than my brother. Couldn’t he be taught wisdom?

  I faltered and tried to think of a better solution than death. If only the Tanukijin had been more like the Chiramantepjin and had chided and corrected Petennouk like those of my tribe had done to me. If they had, we wouldn’t be here now. Grandmother Ami always told me not to try to change the past, only focus on what could be changed now.

  Everyone waited.

  I smoothed my hands over the fur tunic, then made myself stop before I gave away my nervousness. “My mother was a great nipa of the Chiramantepjin tribe and so is my brother now. He often quotes her wise words: The chiramantep who snarls the loudest, must be broken. For Petennouk-san, this lends wisdom to what his punishment should be. I cannot claim to understand why Petennouk-san acts as though he does, whether it is the hardships in his life he has faced, or that he doesn’t have parents who were there to encourage his good behaviors and punish his bad ones. It is my verdict that Petennouk-san should not be punished for the circumstances of his life, but be taught humility, courtesy and respect.”

  “Nani?” Petennouk’s brow crinkled in confusion. Surely he’d been expecting death. The worst was yet to come.

  “Petennouk-chan,” I said, emphasizing the honorific of a child. “must be reduced to the status of a child who is parented by the entire village. He must be publicly shamed and all must know what he has done. He must be given chores all day long and he must earn back privileges slowly over time. The entire village must be responsible for punishing him severely with every indiscretion they catch as though he were their own child or a neighbor’s child. For the smallest slight, he must be beaten. Petennouk must learn manners and respect. Like a chiramantep, he must be broken.”

  “This is a very … unusual punishment,” a grandmother said.

  “Yes, but fitting,” said a grandfather.

  The only sound in the little room was the crackle of the fire in the corner.

  I bowed. “The next matter is that of Shiromainu Nipa. I am an outsider, sisam to all of you, and I apologize if my perspective differs from that of a Tanukijin. From my view, Shiromainu Nipa cannot be solely held responsible for Petennouk-chan’s actions. It is my belief that the village is as much to blame. If Petennouk San’s elders had punished him years earlier for small offenses, they wouldn’t have turned into big ones. He is like a chiramantep allowed to snap at a rider many times without being shown his place. Is it the chiramantep’s fault when he learns it’s permissible to bite? Or is it the fault of the humans handling his training?”

  An old man sucked on his teeth, showing his disapproval, but not daring to say it out loud. I doubted he wanted to take responsibility for not punishing Petennouk.

  “All share equal blame and all share equal responsibility in taming Petennouk-chan. Yes, Nipa is his blood relative, but how can he correct his kin’s behavior when no one will tell him out of fear of injuring his honor? Is it not enough that Nipa must see his kin being punished and know his wisdom only extends to those outside his family?” I sucked in a breath, trying to remain calm. “Shiromainu Nipa is very wise in all other ways, and he is a good leader. The Tanukijin cannot let such a great leader resign. I suggest Nipa renounce Petennouk as family, so that he might consider him the same as any other petulant child in the tribe.”

  Shiromainu bowed his head low. “You are very wise for your young age, Sumiko-san, and generous with your mercy. More so that I deserve. However, I will follow your advice if the elders agree.”

  I looked to the elders. “Will you honor this verdict?”

  “I will,” Grandma Pirka said with a bow.

  The others agreed as well. All bowed to me. For a moment, I experienced what it must be like to be a nipa. I had created my own happy ending. I couldn’t wait to tell Faith!

  Chapter Thirteen

  When my father had been alive, he said there were rules in place to protect the first world colonists on planets. I’ve insisted there are people on Aynu-Mosir, but Lord Klark tells me they’re extinct and there’s nothing to be done about the matter. He tells me my sister and father are dead. Perhaps I am foolish, but I still hope to return and see this with my own eyes.

  —From the diaries of Felicity Earnshaw

  I had selected the punishment, but the council had the final word in how it was carried out.

  Petennouk was hauled outside where he was tied to a wooden post along the riverbank. He knelt toward the post, his head bowed down and his hands on the ground. A metal gong, rusty and worn with age, was struck and the village assembled outside. Despite the chill in the air, Petennouk was stripped down to his loincloth.

  The council announced why Petennouk was being punished and what his consequences would be. It was hard to watch Shiromainu beat his grandnephew with a switch. No one liked to watch another person’s shame. Even so, I made myself do so because it was expected of me. Petennouk cried out with the first whack. I flinched. There was no memory moss on this stick.

  Shiromainu beat him until his back and arms were bloody stripes. Petennouk cried out with every blow, even though it was considered weak and cowardly for a grown warrior to do so. When Shiromainu finished, he declared, “This young man is no longer my kin. He is just another member of this tribe and one who has disgraced himself.”

  Shiromainu handed the stick to one of the elders and turned his back on his nephew. Every person in the tribe took a turn hitting or kicking him. One man stepped onto his head so his face was pushed into the dirt. Another kicked him in the face, causing him a bloody nose. Petennouk shook with sobs, further disgracing himself in public for his lack of control. He was pathetic, like a child. I pitied him. I didn’t want to add one more blow, but it was my duty to do so. I kicked him softly under the shoulder where there was no injury.

  It had been my duty to hurt Petennouk, but I also felt it my duty to make sure he succeeded in recovery. Later, I went to the healing room to speak with him where grandmothers applied ointments and dressed his wounds.

  As soon as he saw me, his eyes blazed with fury. “I hate you,” he spat. “Someday I will have my revenge on you.”

  One of the old women cried out and slapped him in the mouth.

  I wondered if I had chosen the wrong consequence for Petennouk. Perhaps time would temper his lack of respect. And if it didn’t? Perhaps I wasn’t as wise as I’d hoped.

  Petennouk was permitted a day to rest before starting his duties. He performed the foulest and most disgusting jobs: cleaning the privy, scraping the muck out of the chiramantep stables, and scrubbing the onsen. He was like a slave. I noticed the way he held his tongue and kept his eyes down. That was at least an improvement.

  My days were much easier without the threat of Petennouk’s presence.

  Shiromainu and I continued to share memories, but there was a quiet distance between us that hadn’t been there before. Would he accept Faith as part of the Chiramantepjin or not? Would he take my tribe at all now? What if Petennouk told him I was a woman-lover and he believed him?

  Every time Shiromainu looked upon his nephew doing his duties in silence, his shoulders sagged. He looked old and weary. Four days before I was to leave, he looked even more broken than ever.

  “Anata, is there anythi
ng I can do to take away your sorrows?” I asked.

  “I know it is not fitting for a husband and wife in tsuma no koukan to spend a night apart,” he said. “But we have already broken so many traditions in our exchange. Would you permit me a night of solitude, anata? I will arrange for you to sleep in Pananpne’s home if you will agree to this.”

  “Of course, anata.”

  Shiromainu understood how I liked her more than the others. She was like my Shipo. As soon as I told Pana I would spend the night in her home if her parents agreed, the other girls heard and they became jealous.

  “It isn’t fair,” Opere said. “I want you to sleep next to me. We would tell each other stories and share our secrets all night long.”

  I laughed at that. If only my secrets were as banal as hers—which boy I liked best and how annoying my parents were. I would never be able to share what was in my heart.

  “You will keep your parents up all night,” Chinatsu said. “Fortunately for your family, Sumiko-chan will be with me.” She hugged me so hard all the air whooshed out of me.

  “Iya! Let her breath!” Opere said, smacking her on the arm. “Poor Sumiko-chan, she’ll never have a moment of peace if she spends the night in your family’s home.”

  “I would like you to come to my house,” Pana said quietly. “But Nipa hasn’t asked my parents yet.”

  “How will we decide who gets to keep her tonight?” Hekketek asked.

  They continued to bicker. I had never been fought over before. I wouldn’t have admitted it if anyone asked me, but it was thrilling to know there were people out there who wanted my friendship so much they would argue over me. Of course, it also was a very bad feeling to see the girls be mean to each other on account of me.

  I was Nipa’s wife. I had to set a good example for them. I had to show them I was wise.

  I tried to shout over them. “I have an idea.”

  “Shush,” Opere said. “Sumiko-sama is talking.”