From alt.pub.dragons-inn Wed Jun 1 20:29:59 1994 Xref: netcom.com alt.pub.dragons-inn:7321 Path: netcom.com!csus.edu!csulb.edu!nic-nac.CSU.net!charnel.ecst.csuchico.edu!olivea!uunet!news.delphi.com!usenet From: brudnick@delphi.com Newsgroups: alt.pub.dragons-inn Subject: [SoV] Chapter 2 -- Tokens Date: Tue, 31 May 94 19:18:43 -0500 Organization: Delphi (info@delphi.com email, 800-695-4005 voice) Lines: 297 Message-ID: <5g2vupT.brudnick@delphi.com> NNTP-Posting-Host: bos1g.delphi.com ============================================================ [SoV] Chapter 2 -- Tokens Admin [The cast of characters for the [SoV] thread: Character Created/Managed by --------------------------------------------------------- Matte Kudasai Matt Hebert Masuko Hattori Barbara French Tomonobu Fujiwara Bret Rudnick Synopsis: Several adventurers find their fates woven in a common thread -- a quest for revenge. Some pasts are brought up to date, some questions answered. ] Admin [As always, comments/questions welcome.] ============================================================ Supper at the Blue House promised to be every bit as interesting as the events leading up to it, so Matte thought. She and Tomonobu were escorted to a fairly small function room on the ground floor of the House. It was private, near the back of the building and opposite the street. The room extended out into a walled private garden. It was furnished very simply, with straw mats for flooring and only a couple of simple scrolls depicting natural scenes on the walls. The low table before their sitting pillows was heavily lacquered but simple in design as well, and a plain flower arrangement in a modest vase was the centrepiece. How many hours, Tomonobu wondered, were spent on that arrangement to get just the right balance of Heaven, Man, and Earth. Two serving girls brought more trays of food, wine, and tea. This time, Tomonobu allowed himself to indulge a bit in the food and tea, though he did not touch the wine. Matte tucked in with carefree abandon. "Two feasts in one night!" she exclaimed. "This would cost a small fortune at a place like this!" She discovered the warm sake, as it sent lazy wisps of slight steam into the air above the delicate serving flask. "Say, this is really good!" she commented, heretofore unfamiliar with the warmed rice-wine. She emptied her cup and quickly poured another. Tomonobu sipped his tea, still uneasy about his surroundings. With no sign yet of the hostess, he rose from his seat to step into the small garden. It was wonderful. It seemed like a composite of the best gardens he had ever seen. He caught the sweet smell of apple blossom. Suddenly a memory rushed to the front of his mind, and he recalled the moon garden of the Hattori family. Somewhere unseen, there was just the right sound of the trickle of a stream. And periodically, evenly spaced, one could hear the filling of a bamboo vessel and the sudden slap it made on a stone as it pivoted to release the water and fill again. The sound of rustling silk behind him alerted Tomonobu that the hostess had arrived. Behind her a servant carried a long stringed instrument, a koto, and placed it on the mat near the table. As Tomonobu returned to take his seat the servant discreetly left the room and shut the sliding screen door behind her. Tomonobu removed the katana from his belt as he knelt at his seat. Masuko noted that he did not place it directly beside him, as would normally be the case, but rested it at an angle such that the hilt was upon his lap. She cocked her head slightly as if puzzled by the action. "I thank you in advance for your hospitality," he bowed and said formally. Masuko looked a bit uncomfortable with the change of speech pattern. She still thought of Tomonobu as one from a great samurai family. The sudden deference in speech was a bit unnerving, though the quality of the lengthened polite speech was pleasant. Masuko smiled and motioned for them to continue enjoying the meal. She knelt in front of her instrument and carefully placed her hands on the strings to begin. Out of habit she cleared her throat in preparation to sing. I wonder if she's aware of that, Tomonobu thought, saddened by her misfortune. She plucked the strings and began a light-hearted tune. Her movements were very quick and difficult to follow, but the sounds were unmistakably clear and beautiful, from individual melodic notes to complicated chords. Masuko played several songs like this. All the while, Matte showed every sign of having the time of her life. She made one salute and toast after another, as the small empty dishes piled up before her. She had emptied two flasks of sake and was well into her third. What metabolism, Tomonobu thought. At the end of another song, Tomonobu reached into his kimono and produced a bamboo flute. "At the risk of offending you with my poor ability, would you mind?" he asked formally. Masuko deftly motioned for him to continue. Tomonobu paused for a moment, then began a haunting, slow lullaby. Masuko immediately recognised the tune as a local folk song of her province, and accompanied. The words of the song would speak of a safe, quiet night, perfect for sleep and rest. The lazy progression of the flute melody rose and fell like a gentle summer breeze, while the plucking of the koto strings suggested the twinkling of the stars. The effect was not lost on Matte. She was sound asleep at the end of the tune. "I'm afraid I cannot come close to doing your ability justice," Tomonobu apologised. Masuko shook her head in polite disagreement. "Traditional school, I see," he said, noticing the square picks on the end of her delicate fingers. "Much more difficult to learn, but much more satisfying to the ear, I think." Masuko smiled and looked down. Tomonobu caught a glimpse of a small, moving, flashing light in the garden and his eye was drawn to it. "Hotaru!" he declared, startling Masuko. "You've got fireflies in your garden," he said, with a hint of wonder in his voice. "How I longed to chase them when I was a lad," he reminisced. "My mother, my adoptive mother that is, was forever scolding me about being out at night. She worried so that I would catch a chill and get sick." Masuko raised one unfashionable eyebrow. "Oh, that's right, you probably didn't know," Tomonobu said quietly. "I was adopted as the heir to the Fujiwara clan. They were an older couple, and had tried for many years to produce an heir, but they couldn't have children. Fujiwara senior flatly refused to take concubines, he loved his wife so, and as a result they adopted a male heir." Although paying close attention to Tomonobu, Masuko's fingers began to play lightly as if of their own accord, coloring the night air. "My mother was such a sweet person," he remembered. "Because they had no child of their own for so very long she was, I think, a bit over-protective. She was always after me to eat this or that, change clothing often, exercise properly. She had a fit when I began to learn to ride." Tomonobu again sipped his tea, feeling the warmth of the cup flow through him. He stared at the bottom. "Kagenori's agents killed them, you know," he whispered. "They came at night, the cowards, and killed them as they slept." She stopped playing. Standing and smoothing her silk kimono, she walked to the door, opened it, clapped twice and drew her thumb across the palm of her hand. That done, she crossed to sit next to him on a cushion. The fingers of one hand touched his arm lightly, her dark eyes urging him to continue. There was something about her profound silence and the depth of her eyes which spoke more than words would have done. Tomonobu took a deep breath and let it out. "I am only alive today because I disobeyed mother. The night Kagenori's filthy ninja came to call I was outside. Father had purchased a new horse for me to ride. I wanted to spend the night in the barn with it, so that it would come to know me better, but of course mother would hear none of it. She believed that animals were especially prone to carry disease. Strange, I always felt a special kinship with animals. I had a dog too, but she wouldn't let the dog sleep in my room. He always slept outside my door, on guard through the night. The night they were murdered, I slipped out the window to sleep in the barn. My dog didn't hear me of course, and remained by the door on the opposite side of the room. When I returned in the morning, just before dawn, I felt the house was much quieter than it should have been. The door to my room had been opened and was left so, and sometime during the night everyone in the house was murdered. They even killed my dog, poor Kage." Tomonobu's right hand became a fist. He set the teacup down and his left hand found the hilt of his sword. "My clan was abolished in the political fiasco that followed. The provincial lord, whose service I entered, was eventually defeated and I was made ronin. I hunted that _yaroo_ down for several years, sending more that a few of his servants and allies to Hell." Tomonobu's eyes narrowed and his voice became very low and harsh. "One day I actually found him! I was close enough to almost touch him! I had him in my grasp... and I lost him, curse his daemon-magic!" He subconsciously undid the catch on his sword hilt with his left thumb, and raised the sword an inch or so out of the scabbard. "He has suffered innumerable deaths in my mind over the years. I promised he would pay with rivers of blood. I shall be the boatman that escorts his soul to Hell!" He snapped the sword back into place. "I daresay your grudge must be powerful too," Tomonobu sympathised. "What sadist would do such a thing to a person and let them live!" The remark drew an unexpectedly sharp glance from Masuko, but she smoothed it quickly and poured herself a cup of tea. She took a small sip and tipped her head back to swallow. It reminded Tomonobu of the way a crane drank; he had never thought about how difficult it would be to eat or drink with no tongue. She set down her cup as the door opened and the same servant-girl brought Masuko's basket. The girl lit a lamp and withdrew. This time, her pencil wrote quickly in Japanese: *Not matter of letting me live,* she wrote, circling the character for "letting" for emphasis. *Saw brothers butchered. Saw servants and babies butchered. My death served nothing. My life may let them rest. I live because I fought to live.* "I apologize if I insulted you," Tomonobu said quietly. She shook her head quickly. *No insult. Worse fates than being silent. People rely too much on talk. Not that I would wish my fate on others.* "Is it . . . difficult for you?" he asked. "I ask pardon if it is too personal." She erased the slate, and wrote, *Took many months to heal. Lost a lot of weight, was weak. Worse was losing my family. Was hidden for several years by the Hideyori, in the north.* She waited for him to read what she had written, erased it again, and continued. *Found out where Kagenori is some time ago. Could not go alone, not much money. Work here - money good. Saved much.* "What was the butterfly about?" Tomonobu asked. "What does it mean?" She wiped the slate clean, slowly and deliberately, before writing her answer. *Met with some who knew whereabouts of Kagenori. Paid for information. Paid about everything I had except personal goods. Given most of information -- not all. Told could not go alone, too dangerous. Said 'wait for butterfly'.* She ran out of space on her slate again, and waited for Tomonobu to finish before erasing yet again. *Got job here. Waited. Year passed, you came with butterfly. Tonight I take butterfly back, get rest of information.* "Who is it? Who do you have to meet tonight?" *Not know name. Know how to find.* "I'm going with you." Masuko shook her head. *Don't know if he accept that.* "It could be dangerous." Masuko just nodded, looking unconcerned. *Don't need protection.* "Perhaps so. Still, it is not a good idea for anyone to do something like that alone, particularly if you don't know who he is or what his motives are. It would be best if I went with you." Her lips pressed together tightly, washing out the color, as she looked into Tomonobu's face. *If I left, you would follow anyway.* "Quite probably." She sighed, drank another sip of tea. *Go together, perhaps. Not go inside together. He said come alone.* At Tomonobu's nod, she stood, held up one finger and left the supper room.