by T. Isilwath
Getting out of bed to answer the call of her bladder, she got dressed and relieved herself, then took the opportunity to scout around in search of her fox.
He didn’t answer her calls, and she couldn’t find him anywhere on the shrine grounds or at the campsite they used in the forest. Memories from the previous night of him telling her that Hiroshi would be angry with him for breaking Hachi’s arm came back to her, and she began to worry.
‘What if they came for him while I was asleep? He wouldn’t wake me for that. He knows I would try to stop them,’ she thought with apprehension, and then began to get angry. ‘They have no right to punish him for protecting me!’
The longer he was gone, and the more she thought about it, the more she suspected that she was right. She returned to her room and threw on her leathers, her rage and indignation growing.
‘My knife. Where is my knife?’ she asked herself, rummaging in the pile of things Akihiro had brought from the grove. She knew her bow wasn’t there, but she’d seen her hunting knife and the two throwing daggers in the pile. ‘There!’
she thought, spying her leg sheath with the three hilts poking out of it.
She angrily strapped the sheath to her upper thigh and pulled her hair back into a tight ponytail as she planned what she was going to do if she found the villagers whipping Akihiro.
‘I’ll show them what a demon’s whore can do. No one hurts my fox and gets away with it.’
She was just about to leave and go storming into the village, when she almost ran directly into Suzuka, who was standing on the engawa just outside of her room. She had to come to an abrupt halt to avoid colliding with the young woman, and she put out a hand to grab one of the wooden support poles to keep from toppling right off the porch. Suzuka made no move to catch or steady her, and remained motionless and silent until she had gotten her bearings. Huffing, she faced the other woman and let go of the pole.
“Suzuka-sama. I’m sorry. I didn’t know you were there,” she apologized with a slight bow.
“Where are you going?” the miko asked, her face calm and expressionless, but Joanna knew better. She’d gotten very good at reading the young woman, and she knew that the stony-face was just a well cultivated façade.
“I can’t find Akihiro,” she replied.
She didn’t want to accuse the girl of anything, but she had a sneaking suspicion that Suzuka knew exactly what was going on.
“Hanyou will be back shortly. He requested that you remain here and wait for him,” the priestess informed her.
“I’ll bet he did. Where is he?” she ground out through clenched teeth.
“You should honor his request and stay here,” Suzuka answered carefully.
“Why? So I don’t see them beating him bloody for protecting me from a drunken rape gang?”
She saw the carefully placed armor crack and a brief stab of pain enter Suzuka’s eyes. Like any good predator on a hunt, she smelled blood and went for the throat.
“Tell me where he is?” she demanded, taking a step forward. Unfortunately, the young woman didn’t budge.
“I cannot.”
“Why not? Don’t you know where he is?”
“I gave my word that I would not disclose his whereabouts.”
“To whom? To Akihiro? To protect me and keep me from interfering?”
“To my brother who asked it of me.”
She growled and moved around the motionless woman. “Fine then. Don’t tell me. I can find him myself.”
She jumped off the engawa and prepared to stalk out of the shrine.
“You aren’t helping him,” Suzuka warned suddenly, her voice earnest.
‘Huh?’ She stopped and turned to look at the miko.
“I know you think you are saving him, but you’ll only make things worse.”
The stony façade was gone, replaced by the face of a young woman who was asked to grow up too soon and burdened with the responsibilities that she carried. Had she been born in Joanna’s time, she’d probably be a senior in high school; dressing in jeans and t-shirts, giggling with her friends, and worrying about nothing more important than boys and mid-terms. But they weren’t in 2012, they were in this time, and life was hard and cruel, especially to the poor and the women. Suzuka was bound to the life she led from the moment she was born, and she would not have been able to change it even if she had tried.
The knowledge that the young miko was just as trapped as she was cooled her anger, and she stopped to listen to what Suzuka had to say.
“How do you mean?”
“Right now, Hanyou is safe,” Suzuka explained. “They will whip him, and he will hurt for a few days, but the wounds will heal. If you go there and something happens, they may decide to kill him.”
“What!” she gasped.
Suzuka looked away. “I was the one who treated Hachi’s broken arm. I know Hanyou pulled the blow and did not use his claws. This I told to Hiroshi and it influenced his decision. He knows they were drunk, and that they threatened to hurt you, but he has no choice but to whip Hanyou. Hanyou is forbidden to raise a hand to any of the villagers.”
She seethed and clenched her fists. “Even to protect me?”
“If Hiroshi-dono does not punish Hanyou, then he will lose the respect of the villagers. Hanyou understands this. It is why he allows Hiroshi to beat him.
Hiroshi and my father protect Hanyou. Without their influence, the others would demand that Hanyou be killed. Right now, Hanyou does what he must and submits to them, but if you are there and something happens to you, he may react badly and hurt someone,” Suzuka answered, speaking slowly and deliberately.
“I can’t let them beat him for protecting me. If he were human, no one would have questioned his reaction, and it would be Soka and his goons getting whipped, not Akihiro,” she countered.
“This is true. But Hanyou is not human, and he is not given the same leniency.”
She bared her teeth like Akihiro did when he was angry and threatening.
“Akihiro is more human than most of the men here.” Suzuka’s armor cracked further and Joanna saw fear in her dark eyes. “Do not give them a reason to kill him,” she pleaded softly.
Joanna paused and looked seriously at the young woman, understanding dawning on her for the first time. It was obvious when she thought about it: a young girl born to a shrine family, motherless and expected to take on a woman’s duties as soon as she could walk. She’d probably been terribly lonely.
Enter one lonely half-fox looking for somewhere to belong, and you had a combination that was a disaster waiting to happen.
‘Aki said he looked after Ichiro’s kids. He speaks fondly of Suzuka. I wonder…’
It was a burst of insight, but suddenly things made a twisted kind of sense.
“You love him,” she stated simply.
The look of fear disappeared and the stoic face returned. “Affection between a miko and a demon is forbidden,” came the stern answer.
‘Uh-huh and forbidden love is the sweetest of all…’
She shook her head. “That doesn’t matter. You still love him. If that’s true, why do you shove him away and treat him like dirt?” Suzuka lowered her head and spoke in a hushed whisper. “I protect him the only way I know how. I’d rather he hate me and live, than love me and die.”
“But he doesn’t hate you. He considers you one of his only friends.” The miko looked away sadly. “I know.”
She sighed, most of her anger fading. “If you know, then you understand why I can’t stay here and let them beat him. I can’t abandon him like that. But I do promise you that I won’t do anything that would make him do something stupid and get himself killed. Thank you for the warning.” She turned to go, leaving the young woman standing there with a resigned look on her face.
“By the way. Your secret’s safe with me. I won’t tell him how you feel,” she assured the priestess as she paused to look over her shoulder.
Suzuka didn’t answer, but sh
e wasn’t expecting her to reply. She gave the woman a brief nod, then spun on her heel and headed for the village.
The streets were eerily empty as she passed by the cluster of small huts, but she had no illusions that the inhabitants were still asleep and she by-passed the center of town to head directly for Hiroshi’s home. The headman’s house was the largest in the village, and it was placed directly at the opposite end of the town from the shrine. The main street that ran through the center of the village was a straight path from the shrine to Hiroshi’s home so no one had any trouble finding it. The house itself had two large wings that enclosed a paved courtyard, and it served as the primary gathering place for official announcements and news. Hiroshi employed a number of young warriors as guards for his home and kept the village’s only stables.
As she expected, she found the majority of the villagers gathered in the courtyard. She even saw Ichiro and Kaemon standing near the front of the crowd. They were facing Hiroshi’s house, or more specifically, the raised platform in the courtyard. The platform was made from thin planks of wood, and it was used for proclamations, performances, and, in this case, public whippings.
Bile rose in her throat as she approached the spectacle before her. Akihiro was trussed with ropes in the typical Hojojutsu binding that wound around his neck, crossed under his thighs and lashed his wrists behind his back. It sickened her to see him in the position he had taken on the night he had expected her to beat him. Even without the ropes it had been traumatic enough for her, but to see him truly bound and being whipped was another thing entirely.
He was naked from the waist up, and his head was deeply bowed. Hiroshi stood behind him with a long rod in his hand, and he was striking Akihiro across the shoulders and back with repeated heavy blows. The rod looked to be made of two pieces of bamboo, wrapped with rope and shredded near the end to create a scourge effect. She saw her fox flinching, but he was strangely silent as he endured the beating, and he made no move to escape although she knew he easily could. Pushing her way through the crowd, she noticed that the end of the scourge was red with Akihiro’s blood.
It was too much. Tears began to roll down her cheeks in impotent rage as she shoved people aside until she had cleared her way to the front. She cast the two priests a furious glare as she passed, and they had the good sense to cringe.
“Stop!” she ordered, standing with her hands balled into angry fists. ‘I know I promised not to do anything stupid, but how can anyone tolerate this!’
To his credit, Hiroshi paused and looked at her. Akihiro raised his head too, and she saw his shock, and then his shame as his face turned red and his eyes fell. He curled even further onto himself now that he knew she was there, and she felt even more anguish for his pain. She spied Soka, Taro and Hachi all smiling smugly and the fury took her again.
“What you do?” she demanded, barely able to remember to keep her Japanese broken, and then pointed at the three men who had threatened her. “These three say they hurt me. Why you not whip them?”
“Go away, woman. This is none of your concern,” the headman warned.
“No!” she refused, making several of the villagers gasp. “My fox help me.
If my fox wrong, I wrong. I kick man. Whip me also.” At the mention of the possibility of her being flogged, Akihiro’s head snapped up and his face filled with unspeakable horror. His eyes willed her to run, to get back to the shrine, but she ignored his silent plea.
“Maybe we should,” Soka leered, taking a step forward.
She saw Akihiro beginning to get agitated, but she wondered if that was such a bad thing. After all, none of them knew his real strength.
“We do not beat women in this village,” Hiroshi stated firmly.
She raised her head in defiance and stared him down. She was no weak woman, especially not in her hunting leathers with her knives strapped to her thigh. If they expected her to bow down and yield, they were in for a big surprise. On the platform, Akihiro was still trying to warn her off, but she would have none of it.
“No? You no whip women, but it okay to force? You whip my fox; you say it okay men want to hurt me.”
“Maybe you should keep your demon on a shorter chain,” Taro sneered, but he took a step back and protected his groin when she moved towards him.
“Demon? My fox no demon! My fox more man than you!”
“Watch your tongue, you stupid bitch!” Soka warned, coming closer to her.
“Soka, that is enough,” Kaemon spoke-up, finally doing something other than just standing there. Unfortunately, Soka ignored him and raised his fist.
“We don’t tolerate dumb whores who can’t keep their mouths shut.” She didn’t flinch. Instead, she spat on the ground at his feet. “You are nothing but a worthless drunk,” she replied in perfect Japanese.
In all honesty, she wasn’t expecting the slap nor was she expecting it to knock her off of her feet, so when she suddenly found herself sprawled on the ground, she was quite surprised, not to mention a little breathless from having the wind knocked out of her. The next thing she knew, Soka was standing over her with his hand on his belt. It looked like he was about to undo his pants, and she had a wild notion that he intended to rape her right in front of the crowd, or at least try to. She doubted that he’d get very far before either she or Akihiro ripped his privates off, but the threat made her uneasy just the same. Later she would figure out that he merely intended to urinate on her, but at the time his true intentions were irrelevant because Akihiro’s reaction was immediate.
There was a loud snarl, then the sound of something snapping like a dry twig as her fox broke his bindings and leaped off the platform. He landed by her side with such force that the impact crushed the paving stones under his feet, and the crowd gave out a collective gasp. He brandished his claws and growled viciously at Soka who scrambled backwards in terror, tripping over his own feet and falling down.
“I don’t care what you do to me,” Akihiro hissed through gritted teeth, his upper lip pulled back to show his fangs as he stared down everyone there. “But I will cut off the hand of any man who touches her.” There was stunned silence as the villagers stared at her fox in shock. He was standing over her in a defensive position with his claws at the ready, and she stayed down so as not to make the situation worse. From her vantage point on the ground, she could see rivulets of blood running down his sides, and bits of the rope bindings still clung to his wet skin. He had snapped the Hojojutsu in several places, as if all he’d had to do to break the rope was simply flex his arm muscles, and what was left of it lay in a mangled heap on the platform.
The first person to move was Kaemon, but anything he would have done or said was cut short by the sound of someone calling for Hiroshi in a desperate voice. Akihiro’s head came up, and he stood at attention as a man came running into the courtyard in a panic.
“Hiroshi-dono! The village is under attack!” the man cried. “The vill—” Before any of them could react to his warning, there was the hiss of something sailing through the air, then an arrow embedded itself into the man’s back, making him choke and fall face first to the dirt. He was no sooner dead when an entire volley of arrows rained down on them from above. To Joanna it looked like a scene from a medieval movie where the archers sent hundreds of arrows flying high up to arc down on an enemy from a distance away. She heard people begin to scream even as she saw the deadly arrows coming towards her. She made a feeble attempt to protect her head…
“FOXFIRE! ” she heard Akihiro shout, and she looked up in time to see him blast the majority of the arrows out of the sky with a ball of blue flame.
The arrows clattered harmlessly to the ground as the villagers gaped at Akihiro in amazement. Apparently none of them had ever seen him use his foxfire. She herself was quite surprised at the size and force of the blast, and how quickly he had called it. The moment of silent awe didn’t last long, however, as Hiroshi jumped down from the platform and drew his katana.
“Guar
ds! Get the weapons!” he ordered, and she saw several men run for the house, presumably headed for the armory.
The first volley of arrows was meant to cause panic much more than it was designed to actually kill. However, whoever had fired the arrows had no way of knowing that most of them had been rendered useless by Akihiro’s foxfire, so when a second volley of arrows, meant to do even more damage, came from the same direction they were ready for them.
“Foxfire!” Akihiro yelled as more blue flame erupted from his palms, knocking the arrows down again.
“Hanyou…” Kaemon breathed in admiration.
“Don’t thank me,” her fox snapped, calling to the young priest over his shoulder. “We’re trapped like rabbits in here.”
Sitting up, Joanna realized what he meant. With most of the villagers in the courtyard, all an invading force had to do was block the main exit, and they were all sitting ducks. So far it looked like no one had been killed by any of the arrows, and only two people had been injured (neither seriously), but if they didn’t get all the non-fighters out of the way soon, it could turn into a blood-bath.
She saw some of the guards scrambling on the roof of Hiroshi’s house and taking up defensive positions, but there were no more than a dozen of them, and she had no idea how many attackers there were.
“Akihiro,” she said, standing and taking a position at his shoulder.
“Joanna-sama,” he replied, reaching out to push her gently behind him in case there was a third volley of arrows. “Stay behind me. I’ll keep you safe.” She resisted. She didn’t want to be behind him, not only because she didn’t need to be protected, but because she had no desire to see his lashes up close.
“I’m okay. I can fight,” she insisted, speaking in English, and he gave her a wide-eyed glare.
“Hanyou! Can you tell how many of them there are?” Hiroshi asked, coming to stand beside them, his katana out and his eyes scanning the rooftops.
Akihiro shook his head. “I can’t smell much over the blood scent.” Both she and Kaemon winced when they realized he was saying that his sense of smell was hampered by the scent of his own blood.
