Mantis

by India Millar

  “Hurry, Yo. I can feel my menfolk’s souls about the place still. The spirits of those who have left this life violently often stay behind for a while. Perhaps they’re waiting for me. If they are, I don’t want to disappoint them again.”

  He squatted down in front of me. I had blinked the sand out of my eyes and smiled at his face. It had become dear to me so very quickly. I was deeply glad that Yo was the last thing I would see in this life.

  “Keiko, this is not the only way.” I shook my head, and he held up his hand quickly. “I know. I’m not samurai. I don’t follow the code of bushido. But I understand that you think you have brought great dishonor on your family. You have not. Believe me.”

  “I was with you when they died, Yo,” I said softly. “I should have been here with them. Then I would have died with honor at their side. As I was not here, it’s up to me to restore that honor by dying courageously by my own hand.”

  Yo squatted back on his heels. He lowered his head, his expression suddenly unreadable. I watched his eyes and wondered.

  “If you had been here when the villagers attacked, do you really think either Isamu or your father would have let you fight alongside them?”

  I flinched at his words with the same pain I would have felt if he had struck me.

  “Of course they would have. Isamu trained me to become onna-bugeisha. He would have made Father let me fight with them.”

  “No, he wouldn’t,” Yo said brutally. “If you had been here, he would have insisted that you go as far away as you could at the first sign of trouble. I know Isamu trained you to be a true warrior woman of the samurai, but in spite of that, your brother would never, ever have let you go into battle with him.”

  “He would!” I protested angrily. “He was the one who told me about my ancestor, the great onna-bugeisha Tomoe Gozen. The thing he treasured most was a book that showed her fighting alongside her samurai husband as his equal. He would have been proud that I had become a warrior like her.”

  “He would have died by his own hand rather than let you die beside him,” Yo said bluntly. “The legend of a warrior woman is one thing. Having your own sister fight alongside you is another.”

  I shook my head, refusing to believe him. I would have made Isamu—and Father, at the very last—proud of me. Yo was lying to try and stop me from killing myself. I knew at that moment how much he loved me, and the knowledge filled me with joy.

  “You’re wrong.” I smiled at him gently. Yo closed his eyes and spoke slowly, as if I was some stupid gaijin who could understand Japanese only at half speed.

  “It amused Isamu to teach you to be onna-bugeisha. Was it part of the code of bushido when he dressed you up as a boy and took you to the Floating World for his own entertainment?” Doubt made a hollow behind my breasts. But still, I shook my head stubbornly. “I’m right, you know I am. If you had been here, and your men had somehow survived the battle with you at their side, do you think either of them would have been so proud of you that they would have boasted about it to their comrades? Would they really have told them how a mere girl child had helped them win?”

  “You’re twisting things,” I said. The hollow behind my breasts made it difficult to breathe. “If we had survived, I would never have expected them to speak of my part in the battle. They couldn’t. It would be unthinkable to have a woman fighting alongside her men.”

  Even as I said it, I cursed my foolish tongue for falling into Yo’s trap. I spoke rapidly to hide my error.

  “It doesn’t matter. It’s my honor that’s at stake. I can’t live with their deaths on my conscience. I would rather die now than wake every morning and curse myself for being alive when they are dead.”

  “It doesn’t have to be that way. The gods wanted you to live. Use the life they’ve given you to honor your family.”

  “Do you mean I should take revenge on the villagers who killed them? I don’t blame them, poor souls. They were driven to this from desperation. If I had known they were starving, I would have gone to Father and begged him to release some rice for them. Once the rains came and there was a good harvest, they could have paid him back then. Something else for me to regret!” I added bitterly.

  “That’s not true. Your father wouldn’t have listened to you,” Yo said with quiet authority. “Isamu asked him to let the villagers have some rice time after time, but he wouldn’t budge.”

  I stared at Yo in shock that he could have known that when I did not. Then I remembered he had bribed one of our servants to allow him to take his place when he had first become interested in me. He had heard the gossip then, no doubt. There was no magic in it.

  “None of that matters now,” I said wearily. “I should have been here. If I had been, I would have fought by Father’s and Isamu’s sides whether they wanted me to or not. I’ve had enough of talking. Give me that sword, Yo. Let me ease my burden.”

  “So, you think you’re wiser than Tomoe Gozen, do you?” I stared at Yo in shock. What did he know about the legendary onna-bugeisha? “She didn’t die at the side of her man, did she? He sent her away from him so she could live. Do you really think you’re more courageous than she was?”

  I licked my lips, lost for an argument to throw back at him. Worse than anything else was the knowledge that Yo had kept me lingering for too long. My courage had shriveled. I no longer wanted to die. I wanted to be persuaded by him. I was torn in two. I glanced at Isamu’s lifeless body and prayed that he would send me a message from the next world. I strained to hear his voice, but there was nothing.

  “Leave me alone,” I whispered.

  Yo stood and stretched. “Come with me,” he said. I shook my head. “Come with me. Leave the dead here. Killing yourself won’t bring them back. All that will do is cause me pain. Come with me and live the life the gods want you to live.”

  “I don’t want to live. I’ve nothing left.” I gestured around me sadly. “My spirit died here with them. I have nothing at all to offer anybody, especially a man who lives by his wits like you do. My sad heart would slow you down, Yo, and eventually you would come to resent me. Let me go. Do both of us a favor.”

  “You’re alive, Keiko. I will not leave you, nor will I allow you to die. If you were to die, then you would take my soul with you. Do you want that on your conscience in the next life?”

  He sounded so serious I began to smile.

  “No. My conscience is burdened enough as it is,” I said. The sun rose fully and glinted in many shards off my father’s and brother’s body armor. Life was suddenly very precious again. A thought began to unwind in my mind. I put my head on one side, thinking carefully. It was a chance. A very slim chance, but a chance none the less.

  “Listen,” I said. “You may be right. Perhaps there is a reason that I was spared. It may be that the gods have shown me a way to redeem my honor and, more importantly, carry on the family name.”

  And that was how I came to present myself to Lord Akafumu, dressed in deep mourning and smeared with ashes to make my deep grief and supplicant status obvious.

  Two

  Appearances mean

  Nothing. If you don’t know my

  Mind, you don’t know me

  I knocked on the door and waited for the call to enter. It would be a few moments in coming, I knew. One did not enter the court of a great daimyo—a true aristocrat such as Lord Akafumu—casually. The supplicant had to be kept waiting, if only to ensure a proper state of nervous apprehension. I used my waiting time to prepare myself. I lowered my head humbly and hunched my shoulders. I clasped my hands tightly, my fingers entwined in front of me. And above all, I instructed my mind to forget, at least for the moment, that I was onna-bugeisha, a warrior woman of the samurai. For the next—moment? Half a day? Even more? I had no idea how long my wait would last—I was to be a lowly supplicant, desperate for the favor of my lord.

  And while ever I was here, it was vital that it was obvious.

  The doors swung open as I was taking a deep
breath. I hunched a little further into myself and walked forward with a teetering, hesitant tread. I took great care to plant each foot in front of the other, walking like an old woman rather than a young and vigorous girl. I heard someone fall in behind me, and after a few steps, his voice hissed at me.

  “Stop. That’s far enough. Prostrate yourself.”

  His peremptory tone raised the short hairs on the back of my neck. Immediately, I wanted to go against his command and carry on walking, but brain won out over instinct and I obeyed his words. I fell to my knees and bowed deeply, then kowtowed, my hands stretched in front of me and my head banging on the tatami. Unsure of what to do next, I stayed where I was, waiting for further instructions. I was surprised when the words came from in front of me rather than from my escort.

  “Keiko-san, you may rise.”

  I was about to get to my feet when the voice behind me hissed, “To your knees. No further.”

  I sensed my escort walking away on silent silk-slippered feet. This was it, then. There would be no second chance. I kept my head bowed respectfully but peered through the matted hair that covered my face.

  Courtiers were arranged on each side of me. All of them were men, and all of them were staring at me with avid interest. I felt like some freak who was kept in a cage and taken around the villages to milk coins from gullible peasants. No, worse than that. Surely a caged human being would arouse a little pity? I could sense only amusement from this audience. No doubt they were delighted to have their daily routine interrupted.

  I knew I had to wait until Akafumu decided to notice me. I took a deep, silent breath, ordering myself to relax, to remember my role. I was a beggar before my lord, waiting on his word. My future was in his hands.

  Lord Akafumu ignored me. He chatted to the men who stood at each side of him. He was perhaps twenty paces in front of me. I closed my eyes and concentrated all my senses on my hearing. He was talking about some member of the shogun’s court, laughing slyly about a joke that had been played on the man. I longed to raise my head, to call out that I could hear him. That I was not prepared to wait in this submissive posture until it suited him to pay me some attention.

  Of course, I did no such thing. I waited silently, beginning to feel an ache in my shoulders as I kept them hunched. No matter. The end result would be well worth it. I hoped.

  “Ah. Keiko-san.” At last! Lord Akafumu sounded startled to find me still there. Suddenly, I realized that this was all a game to him. A bit of novelty to break up the aristocratic routine of his noble court. He knew I was there. Why I was there. He was simply trying to stretch out the fun.

  I kowtowed again. The gesture was an automatic response to his voice and I was angry with myself. Still, it could do no harm.

  “Lord Akafumu.” I pitched my voice at what I hoped was the right level. Loud enough to be heard over the background buzz of the courtiers, but still profoundly submissive. “I beg your indulgence, lord.”

  “Yes, I’m sure you do.” Akafumu laughed at his own wit. The courtiers followed suit, tittering obediently. “Well, I’m pleased to see that at least you’re following the proper traditions, Keiko-san. There’s so much civil disobedience these days. I sometimes wonder if people still understand their proper place in life.”

  The breath caught in my throat with shock. Didn’t he know why I was here? Surely, even if he was above listening to gossip, his chamberlain must instruct him in the day’s business. He must know that my father and brother had been slaughtered by peasants whose hunger had finally tipped them into desperation. And that being so, could he be so heartless, so insensitive, that he joked about knowing one’s place in life? My daimyo answered my unasked question himself.

  “I blame all these gaijin that are about Edo these days. Striding about as if they own the place. Refusing to dress properly. I don’t believe any of them even bother to learn Japanese. When the lower classes see such men flaunting disrespect and appear to prosper, then they get ideas above their station in life.”

  His tone was pettish, but my sensitive instincts caught an undercurrent of fear beneath the words. He knew what had happened to my menfolk. And it terrified him. I was pleased; this great aristocrat was not invulnerable. And even better, he knew that himself.

  “My lord.” I spoke quietly, and I realized at once that he had not heard me. I tried again. “My lord, you see everything clearly. You are as all-seeing as you are benevolent, and I am beyond grateful that the gods have seen fit to give me such a daimyo as you.”

  I thought perhaps I had laid the flattery on too thickly, but I had not. I stared at Akafumu from beneath my screen of hair and saw him preen. He was far younger than I had expected, perhaps no older than his mid-thirties. I thought he would be a tall man when he stood, but already I could see that the good life he had led was beginning to ruin him. His robe was a rice bowl over the mound of his belly, and as I watched, he frowned and rubbed his chest as if to dislodge a spasm of pain.

  “Keiko-san, I am sorry for your loss. A terrible thing to happen in my domain.” He did know, then. And his tactlessness was all the more breathtaking. “But I am pleased to give you some good news. I have ensured that those peasants who escaped from the bravery of your father and brother have already been dealt with. The men have been executed and their women sold into slavery.”

  Akafumu obviously expected me to be pleased. I gripped my hands together so tightly my nails broke the flesh on my palms. My whole body shuddered with the effort of staying still. This was not what I wanted. Not what I had come here for. Even through my grief, I understood that the villagers had acted out of desperation. They were starving, their children dying for want of the rice that Father had in abundance. They had known that they were signing their own death warrants when they broke into our rice stores; for them, it was face death one way or another.

  I knew that and found it in my heart to weep for them. Also did I understand that the villagers were part of our family, that we were responsible for them. If Father had not been so mean that he refused to let them have enough rice for this one season, if he had seen fit to give what they had been forced to take, then both he and my brother would be alive. And I would not be on my knees, humbling myself before this arrogant, over-fed man.

  “Lord, your words are those of a great man.” I could not bring myself to thank him, but he seemed not to notice.

  “It was essential,” Akafumu said crisply. “There is too much of this sort of impertinence going on. Although, I doubt we will see any more of it in my domain. You may not be aware that a number of your maidservants threw their lot in with the villagers. When my men went to round up the ringleaders, they found them with the peasants. You’ll be delighted to know that they have been suitably punished. They have also been sold as slaves. I will ensure that the money that was obtained for them is handed over to you at the time of the next accounts.”

  “Too gracious, lord,” I said. My heart cried out; my own maid must have been amongst them. She was a nice girl who would never harm a living thing.

  I choked back my distress and waited. After a moment, I felt Akafumu’s growing impatience with my silence.

  “Well, Keiko-san? We have been pleased to accept your obedience. I have told you that the cash that is due to you will be paid. What else do you want?”

  “I want my home. My land.” The words burst out of me. I added quickly, “If my lord would be kind enough to listen to a mere woman, I would be grateful for your favor toward me.”

  The silence went on and on. Even the courtiers had stopped murmuring amongst themselves to listen, for surely this event was turning out even better than they had expected.

  “You want your home? Your land?” I had expected Akafumu to sound astonished. Offended, perhaps. My hopes began to blister and burn as I heard the amusement in his voice.

  “My lord.” I clenched my hands together, enlacing my fingers in a gesture of supplication. “I am the last to bear the name of our great family. My fathe
r and brother are dead. I have no more male relatives. My only sister is married and bears the name of her husband’s family. There is no one else to carry on our great samurai tradition. I beg of you, bestow my father’s title upon me. If you do not, then the great house of Hakuseki will die.”

  I ran out of breath and became silent. I thought the noise was Akafumu’s seating platform creaking, then I realized he was laughing. At me. The rest of the court followed his example until I was in the middle of a great swell of glee. All of it malicious. All of it aimed at me. By an effort of will so deep it caused pain to clench my guts, I stayed still and silent.

  “You, Keiko-san?” Akafumu wiped tears from his cheek before he went on. “You want me to make you a samurai? You may well be the last of your family’s line, but you seem to have forgotten that you’re also a woman.”

  I am onna-bugeisha! I shouted the words in my head. I am a warrior woman of the samurai. Give me a chance. Just one chance! Pit me against your best warrior, and when I win, then tell me that I am just a woman.

  “Lord.” I paused, trying to bring my thoughts into words that could persuade Akafumu. He didn’t give me the chance.

  “We admire your loyalty to the spirit of your ancestors, Keiko-san,” he said indulgently. “And we must also applaud your spirit. It must have taken a great deal of courage to come before the court. And I daresay, being a woman, you could not appreciate how ludicrous your request is. The title of samurai can only rest on a man. Your family appears to have run out of menfolk.” The courtiers tittered at his misplaced witticism. I was surprised that my daimyo didn’t burst into flames under the intensity of my hatred. “No, it’s impossible. But we would not see you without a suitable place. You are obviously your father’s daughter and a woman of true samurai spirit. I have been told that not long before his untimely death, your father entered into negotiations to betroth you to Tadatomo-san?”