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Silkpunk and Steam

Page 15

by Sarina Dorie


  “We have traditions for a reason.” Shiromainu sucked on his teeth. “But we shouldn’t let traditions get in the way of necessity. I will have to think upon this memory until the morrow. I will return it then. Instead, let me reward you with more memories of your mother. Would that make my little anata happy?”

  “What would make me happy is knowing my tribe will be welcomed into the Tanukijin village.” It was a bold thing to say, but he had told me I could speak freely with him.

  From his silence, I wondered if I’d overstepped the boundary of what was permitted. I had no choice but to wait to learn his answer. Patience was not one of my strengths.

  Chapter Ten

  If one were to find natives on Planet 157, and I’m not saying one would, there are ways to erase the presence of such nuisances that would force us to give up our mining operations. Did you know one of my distant relations headed that American expedition to the planet of Oregon? You may have heard of Meriwether Lewis and William Klark. In order to subdue the natives of that world, government officials gave them blankets with smallpox.

  —hyper space message from Lord Archibald Klark

  The following days passed much like the first two. Shiromainu and I exchanged memories many times, mostly in the evening, but sometimes in the morning as well. He didn’t keep my memories for more than a day before returning them. Every morning my skin prickled with a new rash, replacing the old one. Each day I wondered if I had given Shiromainu what he needed to trust Faith. When five days had passed since I’d arrived, I worried there was nothing I could show him that would change his mind.

  With the memory of Shipo’s death returned to me, it was fresh and vivid in my mind, as though it had happened yesterday. It was hard to look at Pananpne and not see her as Shipo, even though she wasn’t. I tried not to show favor of her over anyone else, but it was difficult. I wanted her to be Shipo renamed.

  The other girls taught me to sing and play the tonkori, a stringed instrument—or tried to teach me to anyway. I did play a simple, short song for Shiromainu on the mukkuri, a jaw harp, since that wasn’t so different from what we had in my own tribe. I ate three meals a day, and sometimes more when my husband made me.

  “We need to make up for all those years you didn’t have enough to eat,” he said.

  I hated that I could eat my fill when my family couldn’t. Shiromainu was kind and just. He had to allow my tribe sanctuary. Life would be perfect among the Tanukijin. My one anxiety was Petennouk.

  One day during practice fighting as we played along the riverbank, Opere accidentally hit me hard across the knuckles, so that I dropped my stick and cried out. It was my fault. I kept letting myself get distracted by the blue river that rushed past. It was so different from the small brown streams that the Chiramantepjin followed as our water source. Whatever great kamuy lived in the river, it sang to me.

  I shook out the pain from my hand.

  “So sorry, Sumiko-san. Are you all right?” Opere asked.

  “Look at her and how she cries like a baby,” Petennouk sneered. “Ay-ay-ay.” Even over the breath of wind and bubble of water his voice carried loud and clear. He should have been ashamed of himself for speaking that way to his nipa’s wife.

  One who grew up with an older sibling must be able to endure taunts, and so it was with me. I ignored him, which seemed to vex him further and his insults came with more frequency. On the eighth day among the Tanukijin, he sauntered over, smiling a little too sweetly.

  Opere and Chinatsu exchanged worried glances. His merriment was not a good sign.

  “You are coming along very well, Sumiko-chan,” he said. “For having little training in fighting, you have increased your skill greatly in such a small amount of time.”

  As if his presence wasn’t enough to put me on guard, his complement warned me to be careful. I bowed. “You are too kind with your words. I am not adept yet, but I endeavor to do my best. As you say, I have little ability for fighting.” I’d never said I couldn’t fight, only that I was new to stick fighting. But it was better to agree with him than to brag and bring on more anger.

  “Such modesty. Your skill far surpasses those you practice with.” He swept a hand at the four girls standing mutely around me.

  I had a bad feeling where this was going, and I did my best to stop it. “I am a poor fighter. Those I practice with have modified their techniques to accommodate my inexperience. Is that not so, Hekketek-chan?”

  She nodded. “We are all poor fighters.”

  “Nonsense. Sumiko-chan is ready for a more advanced opponent. Consider one of the older girls or older boys.” His lips curled back into a sneer. “Perhaps I should become your teacher.”

  I bowed and used the polite words of refusal. “That is so kind of you to offer, but I do not wish to waste your time.”

  He leaned against his stick. “It wouldn’t be a waste of my efforts to spend time with Nipa’s wife.”

  Chinatsu said in a quiet voice. “Excuse me for my intrusion, but Sumiko-san isn’t ready for more challenging fighting.”

  Petennouk arched an eyebrow at her. She kept her gaze averted.

  “No matter,” Petennouk said with a shrug. He called over his shoulder. “Okikurmi-san!” He beckoned to a young man about his age.

  The adolescent trotted over. Even bundled up with layers of furs, he looked as slender as a reed. He towered over me, only coming down to my level when he greeted us with a bow. I was thrown off now. I’d thought Petennouk meant to trick me into fighting him.

  Petennouk handed Okikurmi his stick. “I think you should train with Sumiko-chan. She needs more of a challenge. She thinks I would be too easy as an opponent.”

  “No, that isn’t what I said.”

  Petennouk turned away, walking across the field to a pile of sticks on the ground.

  Okikurmi was tall and well-practiced, but he wasn’t a brute. He went slow enough that I could intercept most of his swings and when I didn’t, he stopped an inch from hitting me. It amazed me how skilled he was that he could execute his moves with such coordination and discipline. He smiled jovially and gave me tips. It wasn’t so bad.

  “Iya!” Pana cried out. “Itai!”

  I glanced over at my friend. Petennouk struck her in the leg and tripped her so she fell into the snow. It wasn’t fair. Pana was only fourteen and he was probably twenty.

  “Sumiko-sama,” Okikurmi said, using a title of respect. “Your opponent is over here.” Okikurmi tapped my arm with his stick to regain my attention.

  “Itai!” Pana said in pain as Petennouk struck her hard in the arm. He didn’t even let her get up from the ground before he hit her again.

  I winced.

  “Such a baby,” Petennouk said.

  I lowered my voice in the hope that only Okikurmi would hear. “Can’t you do something? He’s hurting her. Why don’t you fight him instead?”

  Okikurmi bowed in apology. “Sumimasen. Excuse me for speaking so boldly. He does as he wishes, no matter what the rest of us say. If anything, it will make Pana-chan stronger if she has a real reason to fight.” His eyes were sorrowful, but clearly he wasn’t going to do anything.

  Okikurmi was a coward. I scanned the young men and women at practice, all of them ignoring Petennouk. They were cowards. I clutched my stick so tightly it hurt my hands.

  I turned away and stomped over to Petennouk. “Stop it. This isn’t a fair fight.”

  Pana cradled her hand. Tears swam in her eyes. She clambered to her feet and scrambled back from her opponent.

  Petennouk scratched his smooth chin as if considering my words. “True. Pana-chan is beneath me in fighting skill. You, on the other hand, you are worth my while. Ready for a real opponent?”

  I could now understand his plan, and I hated that I had fallen for it. I should have insisted my friends and I go inside and do something different when he swaggered over with that smirk on his face and challenged me.

&nbs
p; I lifted my chin. “I will not fight you.”

  “Yes, you will.” He smacked my arm. Even through the manto it made my skin smart.

  I threw down my stick at his feet in defiance.

  He poked me with his stick, hard enough to make me stumble back a step. “Pick it up.”

  Opere bit her lip. “You’d best do as he says.”

  Chinatsu hugged Pana and tugged her away.

  “No,” I said. I wouldn’t give in to a stupid bully.

  He struck me again, this time on the leg. I flinched from the pain of it, but I didn’t let myself cry out.

  Okikurmi shifted from foot to foot in agitation. “Excuse me, but I would like to remind you that Tomomi Sensei says it isn’t noble to fight an unarmed man. Nor is it dignified to use such force against a smaller, weaker opponent.”

  “Tomomi Sensei isn’t here right now.” Petennouk hit me in the chest.

  I sealed my lips together to keep from crying out, but my eyes stung with tears. Petennouk’s smile was as vicious as any predator.

  “Please stop. You are abusing Nipa’s wife,” Hekketek said.

  “Abusing?” He smiled. “She can pick up her stick at any time, ne? It’s not my fault she’s too stupid to do so.” He idly smacked her on the thigh and she jumped back.

  “Please, you can beat me instead,” Chinatsu offered. “Save yourself from disgracing Nipa—and yourself.”

  “Yes, I imagine she will go crying to him like a baby. He will be driven mad with shame and lose face. I don’t know how he’ll be able to face his people with his disgrace.” He struck out again, his movements lazy.

  I stood my ground. This time his attack landed on my wrist, causing my healing tattoo to flare up in pain. I whimpered and swayed as stars danced before my eyes. He stepped in closer.

  Hekketek covered her face, unable to watch.

  Petennouk glanced out over the field, obviously taking pleasure in the way others snuck glances at us. He was like an evil kamuy. Perhaps he was a kamuy in a boy’s skin. Never had I known any person who could be as cruel as he was.

  I wasn’t very good at sticks, but I was good at locks, holds and blocks. Shiromainu had said I needed to use my wits and speed with a bigger, stronger opponent. I knew the gifts I possessed.

  “Please, I beg you,” Pana said. “Take your anger out on me instead of Sumiko-sama.”

  Petennouk lifted the stick high. He shifted his weight and I followed his gaze. He wasn’t about to him me. He meant to hit her. Then he would probably resume beating me.

  Surprise was my greatest ally.

  Just as he started to lower the stick, I dove closer. I used the momentum of his downward arc to push the stick down and to the side, past Pana. My timing wasn’t quite right. The stick grazed my cheek before I shoved it down into his knee. He grunted and wobbled. I shifted my hold onto the stick, continuing its swing up into his crotch. He howled in pain and toppled over, releasing the stick into my hands.

  Everyone on the field stared in stunned silence.

  I threw his stick on the ground and smiled in triumph. “Isn’t it time for my tonkori lesson? Yes?”

  After fighting practice the onsen was nearly empty, save for mothers with their young children. I had to be careful with my tattoos. A new woman wasn’t to soak them in the hot water, and now that they’d opened up and broke, I was going to have to be even more careful. Pana rubbed down my back and arms with a cloth. She was very gentle around the red welts on my skin and the purple bruises starting to form.

  For the first time ever my chest was swollen, but not in the way I had always hoped for.

  Pana was rounder than the other girls. She was the oldest and was the only other one of my friends with tattooed wrists. It sent a thrill through me when I snuck glances at the mounds of her perky breasts. The dark bush of hair between Pana’s legs partially hid her secret places underneath, making them seem even more forbidden. Even Chinatsu and Hekketek had a little hair between their legs. I didn’t have anything.

  Pana was so pretty I could see why Petennouk wanted her, though I hated he should punish her for refusing him. I hated he had chosen the girl most like Shipo to beat today. I did my best to keep my eyes down on the floor so I wouldn’t ogle her like a pubescent boy in a girl’s bathhouse.

  While we soaked in the water, we chattered pleasantly. No one brought up what had happened outside.

  “Tomorrow in the morning, we should practice our music together,” Pana said. “Or go to the children’s courtyard where we can get away with playing ohajiki.”

  No one mentioned going to the practice field.

  “Good idea,” I said. I faced away from them, my arms on the rock ledge so I wouldn’t get my tattoos wet. It saved me from staring at their budding breasts. It didn’t save me from hearing about them, though.

  “I hate my breasts. One is larger than the other,” Opere complained.

  “Ei! No, it isn’t,” Chinatsu said.

  I kept my eyes down and forced myself to remain turned away. I would rather get beaten with sticks than face the temptation of pretty girls and their pretty bodies and give my weakness away. I would die of shame if anyone knew I was different.

  “Mama says it’s normal if one side starts before the other, but no one else has this problem,” Opere said. “I can’t wait for the other side to catch up.”

  Pana shook her head. “I can’t see a difference at all.”

  “Sumiko-san? What do you think? Can you see the difference?” Opere asked.

  Of course she would want me to look. I glanced at her over my shoulder. I don’t know how I’d missed it before except that my eyes had been glued to the floor in the bathhouse. One side of her chest was flat and the other had a bud of growth. It wasn’t like she had much to begin with, but what was there was noticeably different.

  I burst out laughing. “It looks like someone hit you in the chest like me.” I waved a hand at the lump on my ribs I’d earned in practice.

  Chinatsu and Pana squealed and shook their heads at me, probably mortified by my admission, though it didn’t keep them from laughing.

  Opere laughed too. She threw her washcloth at Chinatsu, hitting her in her face. “Some friends you two are. You’re both liars. I’m only going to ask Sumiko-san’s opinion from now on.” She hugged me around the shoulder, even though we were both naked.

  My insides warmed at her touch. My face flushed with heat. I was sure something else flushed inside me, but I didn’t know what.

  Why couldn’t Faith hug me like this when she was naked?

  During memory exchange that night I took off my robe, but left on my hakima pants, not even thinking about disrobing until after I’d set my attush aside. My long hair hid the bruise blooming on my cheek. I’d learned that trick from Faith.

  Nipa set the bowl of memory moss aside. He eyed the new scab on my tattoo for some length of time before scanning the bruises on the rest of me. He nodded at marks. “How did you come by these?”

  I knelt before him on the furs, fidgeting with the edge of my attush in my hands. “Fighting practice.”

  “I should scold the sensei for having allowed such inequality among players, ne?”

  “One of your teachers was the one who did this.”

  “Tomomi Sensei?” He shook his head before I could answer. “No, she is with the Chiramantepjin, isn’t she? Nor would she ever be that brutal with a new fighter.”

  “No, I hear she is very reasonable.” I smiled.

  My brother had a knack for smiling in a way that it was obvious he wasn’t happy. It wasn’t considered rude because he was acting within the bounds of courtesy, but he also made sure to say his words with a strained smile to show he wasn’t truly happy. I did my best to imitate his gesture. “I hear Tomomi Sensei is respected because she teaches her pupils fighting etiquette. She doesn’t allow stronger fighters to challenge those with lesser skills.”

  Shiromainu unders
tood. He grimaced and looked away. “Tell me, why did you agree to fight him? You are younger, smaller and obviously no match. It is as stupid on your part to agree to such a fight as it was for him to initiate it, no?” His voice rose into a growl that would rival any wild tanuki. I could see the spirit of his tribal animal in him.

  I swallowed, not wanting to answer. The truth would cause problems.

  He picked up my attush and placed it around my shoulders. From his scowl, it was unlikely we would be performing any memory exchange tonight. I let him help me into the robe and tied it back in place.

  “Well?” he demanded. “What was going on in your head? Why did you accept his challenge?”

  I kept my head bowed in respect. “I’m afraid no matter what I say it will shame you.” I felt bad because Shiromainu was my elder and my superior. At the same time, he wasn’t my nipa. It wasn’t nearly as horrible for me to tell him the truth as it would be for one of his own tribe. And it was about time someone did. “I didn’t fight. I refused to fight. He hit me anyway to try to get me to fight him. Your Tomomi Sensei would not approve, the others said.”

  He rubbed a wrinkled hand over his even more wrinkled face and sighed. “It is a very difficult situation, my grandnephew. If I had been there, I would have been able to catch him in the act and shame him so he could not shame me, but if I had been there, he wouldn’t have behaved rudely.”

  “Surely the shame of permitting these deeds is worse than the shame of telling on him. Why does everyone refuse to tell you all the horrible things he does?” My voice rose in anger. The directness of my question bordered on rude, even for a spouse.

  “All the horrible things? What else does he do?”

  I calmed myself and answered my own question, and in a way, his as well. “Nothing that can be proven. It would be each person’s word against his and his word has greater value than anyone else’s being your relative.”

 

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