The Descendant

9.

The moan that Wei Lin released into her knotted gag was loud enough to bring her back to consciousness. It was also enough to alert her captors that she was awake as well. Gently, strong hands lifted her into a seated position on the slab. With equal care, the gag was removed from her mouth, allowing the geico to flex her aching jaw. She couldn't help but flinch a bit when a bowl was placed before her mouth, but drank greedily when it was tilted and the cool water lapped at her parched lips. This is the way it had been since the first night of her capture. After her initial beating, she had been laid out and tied down, then the dressings draped across her abused back and now she was being allowed time to heal. Her bouts of deep, healing sleep and the continual presence of the heavy blindfold across her eyes had, unfortunately, robbed her of any sense of time. She could not even see if it were light or dark as, she supposed, the mill was so continually gloomy no natural light entered it. All there was to her day was sleep, waking, watering and feeding of the most awful gruel with the occasional bit of raw fruit and vegetable, begin carried over to a far corner where she was given a bucket in which to relieve herself, and, of course, the presence of her tormentors. Her lack of discernable time and visual stimuli had done little to dull the sharpness of Wei Lin's mind and she had spent her conscious hours studying the pair, Toth and Saki. The ill tempered and worse smelling Saki seemed to have a leadership role over the two, barking orders and showing nothing but disdain, or worse yet attraction, at Wei Lin herself. The silent Toth, on the other hand had, at those rare moments when they were alone, shown himself to be a gentle and caring creature almost to the point of being loving to her. As time marched on and they waited for what Wei Lin could not be sure, a palpable tension had grown between the two men. Saki was growing more and more frustrated every time Wei Lin awoke. Apparently, he had become eager to continue the torture of their captive, but was being stopped by the mute Toth, who, no matter how gentle he could be, had been the one handling the whip that bit so skillfully into her flesh. It was this duality, this unknown threat that made the man such a mystery to Wei Lin and why she found herself taking every opportunity to speak to him when she knew they were alone.

This time in particular, realizing by Toth's gentle but firm touch upon her that Saki had again made himself scarce. Wei Lin awoke, drank her tepid water, ate a bit of sweet fruit and was handed her bucket to relieve herself. As she rose, she played at having shaky legs under her and slunk back against the grind stone bed. Toth's hand was immediately upon her shoulder but moved off just as quickly when he realized that she would fall no further.

"I'm sorry, Master Toth, but I don't think I can make it to the corner to relieve myself this time. Could you please assist me?"

The silent man's hands slipped easily under her arm pits and slowly lifted her into a standing position. Seeing her holding herself aloft, the man took the bucket from her grasp and linked his arm through her own, allowing her to lean on him for support. Slowly, like a loving, elderly couple, the two shuffled to the now-familiar corner.

"Thank you again, Master Toth. Could I beg one more favor? Could you, perhaps, undo the bindings on my wrists? With my hands free, I could hold myself up over the bucket better and I'm far too weak to attempt much else." She could feel the hesitation coming from her captor. "Please. At least allow me that one, small dignity."

Instead of untying her, Wei Lin felt the strong man's hands working at the ties to the course, peasant clothing they had forced her to wear as she healed. He began to pull her trousers over her narrow hips, shifting his weight only slightly to allow him leverage enough to hold her in place. Wei Lin, practiced at using the energy of others to direct her movement, feigned a slight slip, allowing her shoulder to land hard against the near wall and her bound hands to slip downward. As soon as she felt Toth adjust to her new posture, her fingers locked on the bucket and, with a surge of desperation, Wei Lin swung the fetid wood, feeling the hard impact against the upper torso of her abductor. With satisfaction, Wei Lin felt the man overbalance and slip and fall off to her left. Moving quickly to follow up on her initiative, the geico made to run off to her right, planning to follow the natural wall of the mill until she found an exit. Unfortunately for her well thought out plan, her blow to the mighty Toth was neither hard enough nor targeted well enough to knock the man unconscious. As soon as Wei Lin moved a few steps, her abductor kicked out, sweeping her legs and sending her toppling to the dirt floor. The geico allowed her training to take over and kicked out with her left foot, feeling it contact the broad chest of Toth. She felt him reel back from the strength of her blow and she followed up with a downward kick to where she believed his head to be. Again, fate and the larger man's skill worked against her. She realized when she felt his forearm block that she was too far out of alignment for a solid blow to his head, but most urgent was the fact that Toth now twisted his block into a painful jujitsu grab of her ankle. With a twist, the man pulled himself upright and attempted to roll his prize onto her stomach. Wei Lin, sensing the move in mid turn, used the man's momentum against him, and twisting herself further along to lay on her opposite side while attempting to pull her attacker off line. Toth, likewise allowed her new momentum to pull him, but much to her chagrin, altered his direction enough to bring his upper body down across her lower, effectively trapping her legs under his girth. Taking advantage of his new position, the large Toth locked one hand upon the rags of her clothing. Wei Lin felt the burn at the back of her neck as the stressed material gave way as Toth attempted to pull them both upright. Wei Lin swung with her joined arms, impacting the side of the man's neck and shoulder with her left elbow. Toth grunted at the blow, and released his grip upon Wei Lin, allowing her to settle back onto the earthen floor. Unfortunately, her attacker was still not to be deterred. Air escaped Wei Lin's lungs in a rush as a great fist came down upon stomach. Pain and a loss of oxygen robbed the geico of her strength and she only held onto consciousness through a sheer act of will.

Like a gasping rag doll, Wei Lin was pulled to her feet. With an almighty lurch, she felt herself being pulled into the air, flipping over and landing hard against the cool slab of the grindstone. Not allowing her even a moment's respite, the large man rested his forearm against the weakened girl's throat. In an instant, his other hand slapped against Wei Lin's lower abdomen and she could feel Toth's impressive weight settle against her, holding her in place while also robbing her body of much needed oxygen. As her mind began to swim deeper into unconsciousness, Wei Lin felt her last hope slip free.

10.

The rains washed over Wei Lin as she made her way to the dojo of her sensei. She was grateful for it as it cleansed the streaks her tears had been leaving. It had been over three months since she and Miyamoto had made their secret pact. In that time, Lee Jin and she had spent three days a week working her through the varied forms of movement, both passive and aggressive, that the art of the sword demanded. Rarely during her training did she actually see her sensei, but he always made time to observe her progress and, of course to share a cup of tea or a meal with her. Still, to her growing heart's desire, it was not nearly enough. She was pleased to discover that both Miyamoto and Jin were happy with her progress when she was learning the basic forms. She tried to explain to them how the movements were not nearly so different as those used in her dancing. At this, Sensei just nodded sagely. However, two weeks ago, she and Jin had begun to increase her training, moving to actual sparring sessions with padded armor and wooden bokken. Jin had been sure to inform her that learning the motions and using them in actual combat were two completely different things, but if she remembered her training, not only in her mind but also in her body, then she should have little trouble. However, trouble was all that she seemed to be having. Her parries felt clumsy and weak and her attacks were feeble and rarely hit. In the few times that contact was made on one of her attacks, they were rarely correctly placed and were so insubstantial she was amazed that Jin had even felt them at all. However, even her opponent's least skilled attacks were enough to slip passed or beat through her defenses, and the wooden practice sword soon left her bruised and battered. She began arriving each morning, earlier and earlier so that she could spend hours with her bokken and a practice dummy, working her moves into her muscle memory. But still, once she stood opposite Jin, all of her training slipped from her grasp and she felt awkward and ridiculous. The only plus side of these last few days of embarrassment was that Miyamoto had taken to watching her sessions with Jin closely, with a steady, unbiased eye. Her embarrassment battled in her mind with the warmth she felt whenever the older man's gaze fell upon her.

Unfortunately, no matter how horrid she felt her performance to be, it was not the cause of her early morning tears. As she and Miyamoto had surmised, the rumors regarding the nature of their relationship had quickly spread. Throughout her house, most of the girls would giggle or make snide comments behind their hands whenever she would pass. The word of her bruises were quickly added to the legend of her and Miyamoto, turning what was a simple story of a maiko taking her danna as a lover, to one of violence and degradation. The only kind word had come from her housemother who had informed her one night that she was being smart in allowing such a wealthy man to use her however he wished, so long as she did not allow it to interfere with the rest of her duties. She thanked her housemother for her kindness while hiding the revulsion growing within her. As hard as all of the taunting and misunderstandings were, they were nothing compared to the joy she felt in the presence of her sensei, nor to the importance of what they were attempting to undertake. She was learning that she could take any amount of verbal thrashing in the face of that. It wasn't until her onee-san came home that she knew how hard this secret would be on her.

Her sister had been abroad in the city of Kyoto, making a name for herself and, though her junior had not been made aware of this, finding Wei Lin a place in a well-to-do teahouse. Wei Lin had been training into the late afternoon, and when she returned to her chambers, she found her sister seated upon her bed, covered in shadow. She lashed out at her instantly, coming out to lay the back of her hand hard across the face of her junior. She spent a great deal of time calling her all manner of horrid names; fool, idiot, plaything of an ignoble samurai. Whore. It was this last that stung Wei Lin so deeply as her sister had made her well aware of how hard true geisha like her had to fight against men and a society that looked upon them as little more than fancily outfitted whores. She demanded that Wei Lin end the affair immediately and come with her to Kyoto by the week's end. For her own part, Wei Lin could do nothing but fall upon her mattress and cry. She wanted so badly to tell her honored sister everything, but she knew now that not only would it be dangerous for the both of them, her sister would never allow it continue. She would see it as a fool's dream with no profit for Wei Lin's future, not worth the risk to them all. She would never see the importance of her training, for how could she? She had not been there. She had not seen the look upon her sensei's face when he watched her practice. She had never seen the promise, the thrill, or even the resolution when the woman failed to meet what he believed to be her potential. And so, more to end the argument than for any other reason, Wei Lin finally agreed to come with her sister and it was this final disillusionment that had her crying throughout the night and through the morning rain as she continued on to the dojo for what she feared would be the last time.

Wei Lin threw herself into the dojo, running past the training room, barely noting how her armor, bokken and practice dummy had been set up for her yet again. She slowed only when she entered the back hall and began searching for her sensei. The maiko held up short, her hand upon her sensei's personal chamber door, when she heard the harsh voice coming from the other side.

"Do not be such a fool, Miyamoto." The voice was fluid with a well-bred air, but not one that Wei Lin recognized. Instantly, though for what reason she could not be sure, she feared that voice as she would the hiss of a poisonous serpent. "You know your duty, do you not?"

"My duty is to the Emperor, Sugai-san, and, no matter how high you have managed to climb in his service, you are still not he." Her sensei's words were calm and sweet and she could practically see the open smile that seemed ever-present on his face despite the seriousness of the moment.

"And the Emperor is in agreement with his ministers on this point. There is a new wind blowing across Japan, a wind that blows from the west. It brings with it much needed changes and it is the samurai that will be most strongly affected."

Wei Lin backed quietly away from the door, her tears all but forgotten in the presence of the two men's conversation. She made her way to her personal chamber next-door and scurried over to the far wall to watch the play of ever-present shadows.

"If the Emperor truly wishes me to change my ways, the ways of thousands of years of tradition, brother, then he can inform me himself when next I come visit him in Kyoto." Wei Lin could clearly make out her sensei in his usual kimono, kneeling before a small table she assumed to be piled with tea and cakes for his honored guest. The other, however, was dressed in a way that made his shadow a mystery. However, she could clearly hear the clomp-clomp-clomp of strange footwear as the man paced about the chamber. She was started by the audacity of this supposed minister for wearing footwear inside the sensei's dojo and wondered why Miyamoto would ever stand for such an affront.

"But I have already told you, Miyamoto-san, you will not be allowed within the confines of the imperial city; not such as you are. The reformations I have been warning you about for months are coming to pass. Already no citizen of Japan can wear a sword while in the major cities. Soon that will spread to include all of Japan. Even now, it is illegal for a samurai to simply kill anyone he chooses, no matter what slight they feel upon their honor."

"Yes, I have read these edicts."

"And?"

"They make me sad."

The one called Sugai knelt at the opposite end of the central table with a heavy sigh. "Why sad, brother?"

"Sad because the Emperor knows so little of his chosen protectors that he would think such laws a necessity. It shows only that he has been blinded to the necessity that the samurai represent."

Exasperatedly, Sugai asked, "And what necessity is that?"

"Defense." Sugai laughed harshly, but Miyamoto continued nonplussed. "The Emperor is Japan as Japan is the Emperor and we have always stood in defense of the land as well as the man. So, tell me, Sugai-san, in this new Japan, who will be her defenders?"

"A military, brother, men from all walks of life who are trained to defend..."

"For a samurai that training takes a lifetime of commitment. What kind of training could your military have?"

"The simplest; they being trained in how to march and fight and shoot a gun."

"Guns," Miyamoto's disdain at the word was evident. "False bravado and noisy sticks."

"But more than enough for the enemies that may..." here Sugai seemed to pause as if weighing his words carefully, "crop up to stand against the empire."

"And what enemies are those, brother?"

Silence met the sensei's question, a heavy silence that settled between the two men.

"The reformations have already met with certain resistance. I had hoped, for the sake of our relationship, that I could come here and make certain that you were on the proper side of what is quickly growing to become a necessary conflict of the new versus the old."

More silence, this time enough for the sensei to make certain that he was hearing his guest's intentions properly, which would be a feat indeed as Wei Lin could not be sure exactly what this Sugai intended. She felt herself hoping that her sensei was wiser than she.

"Thank you for your visit, Sugai-san," her sensei said, his voice seeming weary, its smile faded, "if you don't mind, my wife would be quite cross with me if I didn't have her brother visit with her."

"Miyamoto-san..." Wei Lin watched as her sensei rose correctly and crossed to the door, his guest rising behind him.

Without turning, Miyamoto said, "Sugai-san, have you any idea how many men I have killed with my sword?"

"No."

"Thirty seven. Thirty-seven men have died by my hand and I remember them all. Now, of these, do you know how many were by duel or from some slight to my honor?"

Another exasperated sigh, "No."

Wei Lin could just make out her sensei turning back to face his guest. "None. Not one. All have died as part of my service to my Emperor, and it was my honor to perform this duty each time."

"Yes, Miyamoto, your military service is..."

"So, you will forgive me if my honor dictates that I await proper word from my Emperor before I lay down my sword or the lifetimes of service my family has given for him."

And with that, Miyamoto left the room, moving quietly passed Wei Lin's doorway. She thought of calling out, of making some noise to show him that she was there, but she could think of nothing to say and so remained silent. She was the only one to do so.

"Miyamoto, don't be a fool." Sugai followed briefly after the samurai, "For my sister's sake, I'm asking you to see reason!"

With a final, exasperated sigh, which Wei Lin was beginning to suspect was the only way the heavy-set man before her could breathe, Sugai turned back from the direction in which her sensei had so recently traveled. He froze as soon as he saw her, his surprised, black eyes locking onto her own. In response, Wei Lin, her training finally taking over, dropped to one knee before the minister. On her way down, she quickly noted the traits of the man. He was slightly shorter than she but had a great girth, his belly pushing out nearly as far as he was tall, giving him an oddly inverted, balloon-like shape. His hair was shiny with some sort of grease, split evenly down the center of his skull and combed equally down each side of his head, ending with a sharp line just above his ears. His mustache was thin, long and seemingly razor sharp, hardened with the same greasy shine as his head. His moon-like face was bright pink on both cheeks but whether that was from the exertion of running after Miyamoto or from some other physical infirmity, the maiko could not be sure. As comedic as his face seemed, his clothes were an even bigger oddity for the girl. His suit was a rustic brown color with darker stripes running vertically up and down its length. Instead of a traditional kimono, with its long, flowing lengths, this costume seemed to be made up of an outer coat, left unbuttoned, a smaller, collarless, inner coat and a simple, white shirt with some sort of decorative string tied about the neck. The pants were of the same material as the coats with pleat less straight lines running from the leather belt down to the feet, which were covered not in sandals or tabi, but in some sort of two tone leather construction that wrapped completely around the foot and was tied up the middle to the ankle. Above all of this, Wei Lin could see that the minister wore gold in varied places about his body; his fingers were littered with rings, his inner coat seemingly had a chain of gold running from the middle button around into a pocket on the left side of his expansive torso. Even his belt and strange neck arrangement seemed to contain gold within them. In truth, he wore more gold than most women she had seen.