This was not a simple leather affair. It was a work of horror and wonder. It depended on how you looked at it. It was made with a black anodized sheen on the medal, and leather was dyed black. The first part you noticed were the black metal leaves, which came to a black rose. Inside the black rose, you could see lightning tentacles being held back from the world by the petals of the rose. The lightning tentacles quested out from the flower, from between the metal of the rose’s petals.
By the Powers that Be! I did not want an eye patch; however, this thing was a work of art. Papa had chosen well! I slid it between my hands, as I was taking in the small details added to it. The lightning tentacles had little forks on the ends. The closer I looked at the work of art, for it was surely art, instead of something as plain as an eye patch, I found feelings of astonishment and wonder. The little details jumped out at you.
I gently slid it between my belt and body, next to my leather gloves, which I already had tucked into my belt. I may have had a thought of Vadoma had helped papa in the choice, by the smile she was holding on her face. The smile spoke to an unvoiced conspiracy.
We went out to the training yard to wait. David had joined me on my shoulder. Many of the people of the village saw David on my shoulder, as they took note I had a new friend. My glances showed I would come looking for someone, if David happened to find an arrow through him, before visiting untold violence upon them.
You know the drill. You hurry to be there on time, and it will start late. We stood by the combatant areas for where the test would take place, with the crowd of spectators. I let my mind drift, so the anxiety would not build in my mind. My mind drifted to Vadoma’s lips with happy glee.
I paid little attention while I looked on with disinterest, as the people giving the test called the other man, who was taking the test today, up to take the test first. The Grand Master took the request before begging him to call off the needless bloodshed. The man denied the request to call off the test.
His Sensei vouched on his behalf, that he had the training to take the test. Then, the Sensei asked the man to call off the test. Again, the man denied the request.
The Grand Masters conferred for many moments, before selecting an older Samurai for the man to test against. The Samurai asked the man to call off the test, which the man denied calling off his test.
With the entire selection of weapons and armor, you would assume a fight would last for hours. It lasted thirteen heart beats, with the man being seriously hurt. Medics ran to the field to stabilize his wounds. Vadoma was fighting with herself to run over to help, but she ultimately stayed by my side.
They called my name as my attention came back to the present. Ice rode through my veins, as my stomach felt like it had a few talking rocks stuck in it. I walked to the combatant area, as papa and Vadoma followed me. I tried to glare at Vadoma, for being so close to the combatant area, as a feeling of concern flowed through me about her safety.
I started my request, while trying to not let my voice waiver. “I am Relonor, daughter of Richard and Ashley. I am here to take my Samurai test. I have the required knowledge of our laws, with the training needed to be a Samurai.” I used the formal speech to address the Grand Master who was taking my request. He started to respond, but my mouth was not done speaking, as it went beyond tradition. “Will you, Grand Master, stand from my path, so needless bloodshed is not spilled on the lands of my people?”
The Grand Master seemed to consider me for a moment. It was not uncommon for tradition to be broken, but usually, all knew the nontraditional altering were suited for each test. If I was going to take this test, I was going to be myself. It also would lay the groundwork for my trap. He looked pained as he shook his head. “I can not stand from your path, as it is you who wishes the highest rank. Bloodshed is required to pass the test.” Some tests never had a drop of blood, as some tests came to a surrender, by the one taking the test, or by the one giving the test.
Papa’s face was white in fear. He realized what I was doing, as I led them into believing I was being cocky. Papa looked to the Grand Master, while taking a few moments to gather his words, as he was trying to find his own words to best support me in the game I was playing. “I give you my Sensei, Grand Master. Call off this course of action, or my daughter will cover the field with your blood.”
Me going off script was not unusual in a test. Your Sensei would never break for tradition, and no one had ever vouched for a person as a pupil and Sensei. I felt a blush at him publicly relaying that tidbit of information to the crowd.
The Grand Master looked closer at me before replying, “Your father is your student? Were you not a student of his?”
“Yes, Grand Master,” papa and I both answered.
Vadoma’s voice echoed papa’s voice, while she interrupted the formal parle. “I, Vadoma, Mare Soră of the Romani, give you my Sensei. Continue this farce, and she will lay your bodies out for the crows to take.”
At this point, David, who I am pretty sure was asleep with the tedious words being said, decided to screech his screeching voice to the crowd, as his head darted around to take in his surroundings.
The Grand Masters gathered before having a long argument over their choice. Papa and Vadoma retreated outside of the combatant area. While your opponent did not have to stay inside the combatant area, any challenger had to stay inside the area at all times, or the test was forfeit. A forfeited test meant you must wait until the next year to retest.
Everyone watched the heated argument as a few fingers were pointed my way, but what was said was lost to the wind with their quiet, heated words.
When they were done with their parle, two people stepped up to the field. One was a Grand Master, who had many years on this Earth, which I knew, while the other was a Samurai I did not know. I knew the Grand Master from my studies in Centraleplaats, as he was an instructor who taught strategy to his pupils.
He stepped out onto the training yard as he held a box. I called out to his approach, “Grand Master, my old friend. I beg, stand from my path. I do not wish your death to be at my hands.”
The Grand Master laughed at me. In his old wizened voice, he answered, “I have no blade, nor armor, but my mind is my weapon. I choose to test your mind in my test of you. You are one who is different than most of the challengers who take the test. If you loose to me, you will be retested next year.”
A small gasp went through the crowd. It was not uncommon for two or three people to take the field for a test, but they were usually testing a person who had them over powered or held great martial prowess. Never was there a weaponless, and violence free, test. Never had the test been preformed like this. I knew I had lost, as I could not win a chess match against my old friend.
The Grand Master walked over to me, before he handed the box to me as he sat down. I helped him to sit before returning his box into his care, as I knelt down to my knees, with my feet under my body. I waited for him to begin the test. The Grand Master did not rush to open the box, but sat there as he did nothing. I gave him nothing back, as I did not push for something to fill the nothingness between us. Finally, he handed the box back to me while he made to stand. I quickly stood before helping him to his feet. He asked for the box back, with his hands, before bowing deeply to me. He called to the crowd, “Relonor has passed my test.” The Grand Master, who taught the game of chess, walked away, as he already knew my patience. He did what he thought was needed to prove my challenge was sincere. I had just passed a test which covered my patience.
This also tipped my hand to the Samurai in which I would be facing. The look on the Samurai’s face said he saw the true test given to me, while he figured he knew how to beat me. The plan for a fast, pushed battle formed in his eyes.
Once the old Grand Master had reached the safety outside of the combatant area, I gave him a curt bow from my waist, to show my respect to him. He responded with smile as he gave me a thumbs up.
The Samurai took the field. Before I coul
d ask him to stand from my path, he called all five of his personal bodyguards to him. The crowd was visibly upset at the test they were putting me through. I pushed the thoughts of everyone else but these six men from my mind.
The Samurai called out to me over the voices on the training field. His words echoing there would not be mercy in his actions. “You come ill-prepared to enter this land of the dead. Stop your childish insult. Call off this test or you will die.”
I slowly reached to my belt before drawing the eye patch from my belt. I tied it over my right eye, which turned my world black. I swear I could hear a few people saying I was mad as a hatter, for putting it over my good eye, as I tried to ignore the crowd.
I let the wind show me everything. The breeze was gentle, as if she were having a joyous spring dance. She showed me the faces gathered, at least the ones within my thirteen steps. She showed me the individual strands of hair, as she explored the people gathered. Every leaf in the trees behind me came to my vision, in crystal clarity. I did not have to look down as I pulled my leather gloves from my belt, as she showed me exactly where my gloves were on my belt, before I put them on.
The music started to play in my head. The leaves, who rattled in the trees, sounded like swords, which were being bashed on shields. The leaves gave me a drum beat to the music.
I did not wait for them to finish this formality. For is it time, as of this moment, which we dance the most important dance to dance to, the dansul morţii. Death does not care if patience is held or not. Her only demand is she be paid her toll in blood, and a soul to take to her Master, some dark part of me sung to my conscious mind.
I rolled my neck to the left slowly, which caused David to take flight. He flew out of my wind vision over my right shoulder. Then, I rolled my neck the other way, which was answered by a loud crack, which popped from neck.
With my display, for it was a display, to make them think I was overly confident, I relaxed my mind. Everyone knows you do not control a battle or fight. You guide it the way you wish it to go, while hoping the other person cannot do the same guiding, better than you can. The wind increasing the tempo, which the leaves were setting.
Thankfully, the five who were called up were not armed for this extreme combat, but saying they were not armed is like saying a wolf does not have claws, nor teeth. They had the typical weapon belts on, with swords and daggers. It could have been much worse, if they had pole arms or spears. They wore a normal type of armor, the casual armor, which was meant to walk around in for daily business, not for the business of dealing with the dansul morţii.
I dropped my left hand to my sabers sheath, as I pushed the blade out with my left thumb when my hand reached the sheath. My right hand blurred to the saber, while it came loose from it’s sheath, as my hand reached out to draw my saber. It slid from the sheath with the propulsion which my left thumb had given unto the blade, as my right hand pulled the blade free.
My left hand reached over the drawing saber, to my chest, while the motion produced a throwing knife between my fingers. As I brought the saber around, in a circle showing my range, I let my left hand pump back and forth to the throwing daggers, like the tree limbs were moving in the trees, as the wind picked up her dance.
Two daggers found joints in the leg armor plates, while burying in as deep as they could, with the force I had thrown them with. The last throwing dagger missed the mark, as it hit an armor plate, which caused it to get knocked to the ground with a metal clang. As the third throwing dagger left my hand, I pulled my left hand behind my left hip to pull a dagger.
I believe time slowed some, as things were going too fast in my mind, while I had a more sedate pace for my limbs. It felt like I was on a walk in the meadows on a nice sunny spring day, with no rush to be had.
The third man, whom I brought to task, was to my far right, who was the actual target of my ranging slash. With a lunge forward, I hit the knee which crushed the armor encasing his knee. This took him from the fight, unless he could free the joint, which I would just shuffle him into my dansul morţii further along in the dance.
I pulled back from the lunge, as I kept the saber in motion. I turned myself in a circle, while my feet danced to the music of battle and nature. The man, whom was originally the first on my left, was my next target to bring to task. He was getting overly excited at my back, as it turned to him. My saber took his hand from his arm, with the sword still firmly grasped in his dismembered hand, as I countered his attack at my back. The movement exchange bled too much energy behind my saber. I drew my feet back, while crossing them in my wound up stance, as my foot crossed over my other foot, as my blades came to rest crossed in front of me. I set my trap for the remaining two men.
The last remaining bodyguard looked at his four friends on the ground, then up to me before calling out, “I yield this field.” He turned to walked off of the field.
The six-to-one fight was down to a one-to-one fight in under twenty heart beats.
My voice sung to the melody of the music playing in my head, “I dance at Death’s door. If you wish to play for blood, let us be done with it. I am your huckleberry.”
The Samurai stalked me. He was slow with his motions, as he made no noise at all, even though I clearly saw his white form in my wind vision. The wind was picking up from a gentle breeze, to a steady gust. She showed me in clear detail the bodyguards who were rolling on the ground. The bodyguard with the missing hand carried his hand as he crawled to the healers, whom were safely outside the combatant area.
I knew what the Samurai was thinking and going to do. He thought I could not see, while he was testing his theory, which I was listening to the people around me. He thought I was using sound to fight.
This revelation made it extremely hard not to reorient on him for the optimal attack vector. I was hoping the surprise of the maneuver was well worth the tactical advantage I was giving up. The music built in volume in my head, as a violin entered the music in my head.
Finally, he made his mistake. When he advanced too far into my reach of death, I sprung on him like a tornado. My saber whipped around to drive his main sword up, while my left hand dagger batted away the arming blade of his off hand. I angled to step behind him, as I locked his right arm in place with my right forearm. I reversed the grip of my dagger before I drove it under the steel plates of the armor, which sent the blade home.
The dance stopped in mid song, as if frozen in time. I calmly said into his ear, “Call off or die.”
To the Samurai’s credit, he called out in a voice which dripped with pain, “I call off and cry for mercy.”
I released my dagger, to leave it in the wound for the healers to remove, when they were ready to properly deal with the wound. I retrieved the throwing knife from the ground. As soon as I stood, David returned to my shoulder like he had been here doing something to help me.
My old chess Grand Master called, “Relonor, please approach us.” The Grand Master bowed to me as I approached him, “Samurai Relonor, take this sash as a symbol of the title of Samurai and wear it proudly. Understand that being a Samurai is not just to bring violence to a situation, but to bring peace to any situation you can, without the shedding of blood. To have the display of patience, which you have, is a rare trait for a person so young. Knowing when to act, and when to wait for action, are two very different things.”
I retrieved the sash, which I tied it around my waist, in the way of our people, to show the status of the Samurai of our people. Vadoma’s mother was next to the Grand Master. I looked at Vadoma’s mother with my wind sight while raising my chin to her, before casually saying to no one in particular, “She was not properly guarded.”
Vadoma caught the barb I quipped at her mother while she ran to me. She was caught up in the situation, as she tried to kill me by tightly wrapping her arms around me and squeezing. The hug turned into something more, as our lips found each others in a slow caress.
After the kiss, she went on a show of checking t
o see I was injured. Then to my dismay, mother checked me to make sure Vadoma had done a proper wound inspection upon me. All I can say is this, parents.
The Samurai pulled me aside to inform me of my new station. I was allowed up to five bodyguards, of my choosing, as they would be the ones with me if I ever found myself on a battlefield, or in a bad arbitration. He said all of this before being led from the field to the triage building.
I automatically named papa and Vadoma as my bodyguards, while making a mental list to find a few more friends. Vadoma looked intimidated by the appointment. Her mother was livid, as she was listening to our conversation.
This started another fight between the women, which I had to restrain papa from walking over to, more than once. I think it was the third time he tried to go over, and the sixth millionth time I wanted to go over, is when Vadoma screamed at her mother in Dutch. “That is it! I, Vadoma, Mare Soră of the Romani, claim Samurai Relonor as my partner. Do any gathered here wish to contest my claim on Samurai Relonor?”
I glanced around the gathered crowd, because I was curious, mind you. Then, I raised my hand. I started our rapid conversation, “What if I contest it?”
“You, do not.”
“I mean, wench, you are kinda out here in the public demanding my hand for um…like are you serious?”
“Da! I am serious. Why else would I be doing this in such a dramatic way for you.” she quipped back to me.
I thought to Vadoma’s well explained plan, before I responded with the words which will never get me in trouble, “Yes, wench. Please, carry on.”
Her gaze searched the crowd, as her gaze went, many times, over her mother, who held an outraged expression on her face. No one dared to contest my hand when I had just shown my dansul morţii to the gathered crowd.
My mother was being her fun self as exclaimed it was a double celebration. The night of the Samurai Festival was always Carnaval. Things got more out of hand when someone passed a test. I was thrilled for many reasons, while feeling overwhelmed with the events.
Relonor's Journal Page 16