by David Kudler
The juniper branches were thick and springy. As I burst up through the top layer, I could hear the muted sound of our company. They had just turned at the switchback; squinting, I could just make out Masugu’s tall stallion, where I should have been riding.
I set out at a sprint, running along one bouncy juniper limb, crossing to the next where they crossed. The branches were so thickly overlapping that, while the going was slower than it would have been on open ground, I was moving much faster than I would have through the underbrush below, and with a much clearer sense of where I was going. I zigged and zagged along the treetops for a few heartbeats...
When I heard a clatter behind me.
Glancing back I saw no one. I ran along a few more steps.
Another clatter. I turned around again. Nothing.
Then, from out of the trees downhill on the opposite side of the road, I saw a grey speck lancing toward me. Not pausing to think, I ducked.
The arrow hissed over my head like an angry snake.
I dropped down into the juniper.
I heard another arrow thud into a branch just ahead of me.
Crouching just below the top layer of branches, I tried to think. I needed to warn Masugu-san and the rest of the party. But I was too far away to shout, and if I tried to climb above the canopy again, the archers would be looking for me. I could try to make my way back on the ground, but the going would be slow, and—not going straight downhill, as I had before getting caught earlier—I would have a hard time keeping my sense of direction.
I could just hear the clatter of our party’s hooves on the stony road, and knew that they would be in the bandits’ range soon. Still, I had to be closer to Masugu and the rest than the bandits were. If only I could scout out a direct—
I gasped, stunned that it had taken me so long to remember. Placing my hands in front of my mouth—holding on to the branch with my knees, I let out three owl hoots—not caring what kind of owl this time, just making sure that they were as loud as I could make them.
I listened. The hoof beats continued.
Hoo! Hoo! Hooooo!
I thought I heard Masugu’s voice, but it sounded as if the horses were still clopping toward the bandits’ trap.
I breathed deep, squeezed hard with my knees, and hooted louder than any owl could have.
I heard the lieutenant’s voice again, shouting this time. “Attack! We’re under attack! Form up!”
Then there was yelling and shouting, and the clash of swords, and horses and men screaming, just as there had been at the Mt. Fuji Inn.
Only this time, I had absolutely no intention of sticking my head out where it might get shot.
11—The Full Moon
The battle, if that’s what it was, didn’t last very long.
Quickly, the sound diminished to almost nothing. There was still some shouting, but it was growing more and more distant.
I snuck carefully out of my hiding place and made my way downhill toward where I knew the road must be.
It was not quite the scene of carnage that had met us that morning when we had first met Masugu-san and his soldiers. There were three dead men I assumed were part of the bandit gang. They’d been piled by the side of the road. There was also one dead horse, and one of the lancers was growling in pain as one of his comrades pulled an arrow through his thigh.
Most of the rest of the Takeda soldiers were missing. Aside from the wounded man and his nurse, only Masugu was there. Lady Chiyome and Mieko were talking with him. Mieko held an arrow in her hand.
The Little Brothers stood guard while Aimaru, Emi, and Toumi were holding the horses. All three looked as if they were waiting for another attack.
“Ah, there’s the little rodent!” said Chiyome-sama. “Come here, Risuko.”
Uncertain, I slid down the bank to the road and walked, trembling, to my mistress. “Yes, Chiyome-sama?”
“Mieko here tells me that you’re the one we have to thank for warning us before those ruffians attacked.” The old woman squinted at me. “Is this true?”
Her expression made me feel very much as though I had done something wrong—though I had been feeling, as I thought about it, rather proud of myself. “Y-yes my lady. Mieko-san told me to.”
She peered at me some more, smirked at first Mieko, and then Masugu, and walked toward where the Little Brothers were guarding her palanquin.
Blinking, I looked up at Masugu-san and Mieko-san. The lieutenant smiled at me. “Good job, Murasaki-san. I was just telling Lady Chiyome and Mieko that if they’d let you go, I’d find a job for you in the scouts today.”
My cheeks burned at the compliment.
“And I was telling the lieutenant,” said Mieko brightly—almost too brightly—“that you are very badly needed where you are going, and so that he would have to find his scout somewhere else.”
“Um. Thank you,” I said to both of them. Badly needed?
“Mieko,” said Masugu-san, and seemed about to say something more, but didn’t speak.
Mieko lifted her chin. “Masugu?”
After looking back and forth between them for an awkward moment, I was just about to excuse myself when Mieko sighed and held up the arrow for Masugu to look at. “Did you notice the fletching?” She ran a finger over the feathers, which were from a snowy owl—white, with brown spots.
He frowned. “You think this was an enemy raiding party? It’s awfully far from their territory.”
“I think,” said Mieko with an impatient sigh, “that they probably weren’t bandits.”
—
Once Masugu’s soldiers had returned from chasing the attackers—one more of the enemy dead, but the rest evaporated into the mountains—and once a bier was lit for the three dead men and the horse, we resumed our descent into the valley.
I did not mind riding in front of Masugu-san now.
We made our way through a narrow valley with muddy fields. The farmers came out to their fences and bowed to us as we passed.
We climbed a ridge that lay across the valley like a cat catching the afternoon sun. A low, gated village swelled out of hilltop ahead. Through the torī arch and the open gates I could see at least a dozen buildings, whitewashed so that they glowed in the sunlight. The Full Moon.
Mieko and her rider cantered up beside Masugu and me. “Welcome to the Full Moon,” she whispered, smiling.
—
We passed through the huge red arch (and the heavy wooden gate behind it), entering a white gravel courtyard. In front of the largest of the buildings, which looked as big as the Temple of the Sun Buddha in Pineshore, stood a still line of figures: six or seven young women and a single man. The man and the three youngest women were dressed in blue like Emi, Toumi, and me. The older ones were all in the red and white attire of shrine maidens.
The two Little Brothers placed the palanquin on the ground with a quiet crunch, and then sprinted back to close the gate. The two youngest girls ran forward, knelt beside Chiyome-sama’s sedan, and slid open the door.
As Lady Chiyome stepped out, all of those assembled bowed deeply, touching their heads to the gravel in deepest respect. The old woman slid out of her box and stretched, grumbling.
As we all dismounted, she surveyed her troops, who rose to a kneeling posture. She gave a grunt that sounded almost satisfied, and called out to some of the women in miko dress, “Are the baths prepared?”
Two of the women nodded.
Chiyome-sama smiled grimly and spoke to the square-faced man in the line. “Kee Sun, see to the wounded boy and get some supper ready. I’m famished. Fuyudori,” she called to the one blue-clad girl who had not opened her door; by her face, I’d have guessed she was at most three years or so my senior, but her hair was as white as a crane’s tail. “These three are your new charges: Toumi, Risuko, and Emi. Get them stowed away. I want their traini
ng to start immediately.”
With that, she strode forward toward one of the smaller buildings, one with steam rising from it that I took to be the bathhouse. Mieko and the other women seemed to be taking charge of the unloading of the pack horses. The soldiers began leading the warhorses away to an enormous stable just inside the gate.
Masugu-san ran from my side, pulling something from beneath his armor—a small cylinder—and whispered something to Lady Chiyome just as she was about to enter the bathhouse. She nodded at him, and then dismissed him with a wave. He walked back to supervise the care of the horses.
He went over to his wounded soldier, who was being helped by the older man in blue, calling, “No poppy juice, remember. I don’t trust that stuff.”
The man in blue growled back something that sounded like a confirmation, and led the wounded rider toward the big building.
Masugu nodded and turned.
I was about to ask him what he had been talking to Chiyome-sama about when I caught a glimpse of Fuyudori, the older girl who had been ordered to take charge of us. Her gaze had followed mine toward the lieutenant; she had a small, quivering smile. To be honest, it looked more like a grimace of anxiety than a grin.
As I considered her, I realized that this girl looked exactly as I’d always imagined a character in a fable my mother used to tell sister and me—the story of Long-Haired Girl who saves her town, but whose hair turns white in sorrow. Fuyudori was extraordinarily pretty, and the whiteness of her hair made her beauty all the more remarkable. She looked at the three of us, the uncertainty melting from her face, and in a sweet voice said, “Please close your mouths. It’s not polite to stare.”
As she led us away from the courtyard, I turned in search of Aimaru. He looked rather lost, following the Little Brothers as they unloaded the pack horses. I waved to him, but he didn’t see me.
12—Novices
“My name is Fuyudori. I am the oldest of the initiates here, and so you may address me as Fuyudori-san or Fuyudori-senpai.” We followed her steady stride toward the back of the compound. It was impossible not to watch the white, silken hair flowing behind her as she walked. “As the head initiate, I make sure that you know the rules and obey them. Any infraction is seen as a failure on my part; I do not accept failure easily. But I also like to think that I am here as an adviser and a friend.”
In all honesty, my mind was still back at that morning’s battle. I wasn’t quite sure how we had ended up following this remarkable looking young woman around.
Toumi and Emi looked just as lost.
Following Fuyudori, we entered a small building that was just inside the rear wall, behind the bathhouse. There were two rooms. She led us to the one on the right, in which two bedrolls were leaned against one wall. “You will sleep with Mai and Shino, the two other initiates, in this room. As head initiate, I sleep over here.” She pointed through the sliding door into another room, just as small (if not quite as neat), but with a single bed in it on a low platform.
We deposited our bedrolls next to those of the other girls—Emi and I on one side, and Toumi on the far, other side. It was almost reassuring to see that Toumi looked as uncertain as I was feeling.
“Fuyudori-san,” Emi said, scowling as usual, “what’s a... a novice?”
The older girl’s mouth pursed in a tiny smile. “That’s you, of course.” She began to walk out of our new home, and we followed her. “Chiyome-sama likes to joke that we are nuns here, but it’s not far from the truth. Just like novice nuns, you three will be given the most menial tasks, the most basic training. When you have earned the teachers’ trust, you will be made initiates.” She pulled dreamily at her sash, which unlike our blue ones was red, edged in white. “Once Lady Chiyome judges that you have completed your training, you will become a kunoichi. I am due to be given my robes after the New Year.”
That word again. “What’s a kunoichi?” I asked.
She turned and smiled sweetly at me. “You are the one Lady Chiyome called Risuko, yes?” I nodded. “You should treat your elders with respect. Ask permission before asking a question, Risuko-chan.” Squirrel-child.
Next to me, Toumi gave a smirk—whether it was aimed at me or the older girl, I wasn’t sure.
“I beg your pardon, Fuyudori-senpai,” I said, “I’m sorry. Would Fuyudori-senpai do me the honor to answer my unworthy question?”
“Of course, Risuko-chan,” she said.
“May I ask, what is a kunoichi?”
The white-haired girl smiled again, but this time the smile was more mischievous than sweet. “Yes, Risuko-chan, you may ask. However, I’m afraid that I’m not going to tell you.” She turned and walked away.
Feeling tricked, I skittered after her.
“Nor will any of Lady Chiyome’s other servants. If you are so interested, you’ll just have to find out on your own. And before you ask, my hair is white because when I was a young girl, an attack on my village killed my family and all of the other inhabitants but me. I was rescued, and sent here, to learn everything that I could from Lady Chiyome and her servants about becoming a shrine maiden and, of course, training in the talents that make one a kunoichi. Keep up with me, please.”
We trailed Fuyudori as she gave us a quick tour of the compound. She showed us the bathhouse—and told us that we were expected to bathe every evening. “The lady expects you to stay clean and healthy. Of course, as novices, you are expected to clean the baths out each night and to prepare them each morning for all of the inhabitants of the Full Moon,” she said. Next to that was the older women’s dormitory, which Fuyudori called the Nunnery. In the corner, between the gate and the women’s dormitory was a small guesthouse. We saw Lieutenant Masugu moving his gear into it.
I was mostly noticing, honestly, that unlike our dormitory, the buildings at the front of the compound had decorative timbers that would make them easy to climb. Would they let me climb?
Past the gate were two low buildings: the stable and a teahouse where Fuyudori told us we would receive much of our instruction until we became initiates. Behind that was the men’s dormitory, which was smaller than the women’s, and which was called, we were told, the Bull Pen. We all started to giggle, until Fuyudori looked back at us very seriously and said, “As novices you are not to speak to any of the men—or boys—except at meals.”
Emi’s face twisted into an even deeper frown than usual, and she caught my eye. Were we both thinking of Aimaru? I gave the smallest shrug I could manage, and she nodded.
Fuyudori primly pointed out the main storehouse, and began to lead us back toward the big building where we had dismounted. “What’s that place?” Toumi called out.
Fuyudori turned around with a mixed look of annoyance and amusement.
Toumi gave a stiff bow. “Pardon me, Fuyudori-senpai.”
“Yes—?”
“What’s that building over there?” Toumi jerked a finger up toward a small building hidden behind a tall hemlock, up past the storehouse.
Fuyudori held her hand up in front of her face, but then regained her composure, though her ears were still pink. “I beg your pardon, Toumi-chan. I forgot about that one. That’s called the Retreat. We go there during our moon time.”
We all giggled nervously again, even Toumi.
Fuyudori looked us over. “You probably won’t need to use it yet.” With the smooth bearing she seemed to have studied from Mieko, Fuyudori walked toward the central building, and we all trailed behind her.
“This is the great hall,” Fuyudori went on, smoothly. “Meals are served here in the morning, at midday and in the evening. Don’t be late—Kee Sun doesn’t wait. I will take you there now, to make sure you are on time.”
Emi frowned and cleared her throat. “Excuse me, Fuyudori... Fuyudori-san. But what’s a kee sun?”
The older girl let out a laugh like morning birdsong, and said, “
Oh! Emi-chan, you are going to be such fun to have here. It’s not a what, it’s a who! Kee Sun is the cook. Mochizuki-sama, Lady Chiyome’s late husband, brought him back from Korea; he said Japanese food was too boring for him, he’d never eat it again.” Then she smiled and said brightly, “He’ll be serving the pickled cabbage tonight—try it, it’s delicious.”
Next to me, Emi was looking at her sandals. I pulled at her sleeve, but she wouldn’t look at me. “She wasn’t laughing at you, Emi,” I whispered.
She shrugged.
“Well, she was. But she was laughing at all of us. Come on,” I said.
Still a little frightened of this new home, we scampered into the great hall behind Fuyudori and Toumi.
—
The interior of the large building was open and undecorated, except for a group of small statues in a shrine against the back wall. Three long, low tables were laid out in the shape of a horseshoe. The center table, which was toward the right-hand side of the hall, was on a slightly raised platform.
Toumi shuffled across the polished bamboo floor, muttering.
Fuyudori led us through a wide doorway opposite the tables into what was clearly a kitchen. Where the kitchen at the Mount Fuji Inn had been small and cluttered, however, this room was bright, spacious and as clean as a Buddhist temple. Indeed, a shrine to the Healing Buddha stood beneath a beam from which hung bunches of drying herbs.
At a cutting table just to the side of the fire pit, the blue-clad man we had glimpsed earlier stood with his back to us, his shoulders working and the woodpecker sound of his knife clacking away as he shredded some vegetable. This must be Kee Sun, I realized.
I was confused, however—I had thought we were coming in for dinner, and while the kitchen was full of the smell of the hot fire, spices and cabbage, there was nothing cooking.
The man turned and stared at Fuyudori, then at us. His face was broad and flat. A scar ran horizontally, from his right eyebrow into his scruffy beard below his left ear. As he looked us over, he ran his tongue over his lips. “Well, Ghostiegirl, what have yeh brought me for my supper today?”