by Lance Wilson
Suddenly, everyone goes silent. Byrdi turns to find Ujio is standing behind him, arms folded. Ujio barks a command in Salatar. He wants Byrdi to drop the sword. Though he doesn’t understand the word the body language is obvious, but he does nothing. Ujio approaches Byrdi slowly. Byrdi holds the wooden sword casually, only his eyes betraying the tension of the moment. Ujio’s wooden sword flashes, quicker than the eye can follow. Byrdi’s sword is knocked from his hands, then, somehow in the same fluid movement, Ujio brings the sword around and cracks Byrdi across the chest hard enough to knock the breath from his body and lend him to his kneels. Satisfied with himself, Ujio starts to walk away, but the expressions of the bystanders cause him to turn back a glare comes across his face as he sees that Byrdi is standing again, and again holding the sword. With grim purpose, Ujio returns to Byrdi, who has assumed a ready pose. Again Ujio’s sword flashes. Byrdi manages to parry one blow, before he is cracked across the face, and blood begins to flow freely from his nose. Ujio knocks Byrdi’s legs out from under him, and while Byrdi is sprawling on the ground, Ujio kicks Byrdi’s sword out of his hand, and starts away. Again, Byrdi manages to stand up, and before Ujio can turn, charges him. But Ujio doesn’t need to turn. In a sliding move, he dodges and cracks Byrdi in the side, then the legs, then and the neck. Gasping for breath, at least one rib broken, Byrdi writhes on the ground. Ujio digs the point of his sword into Byrdi’s hand until he releases his grip. Again Ujio kicks the sword away. The ever-enlarging crowd gasps as Byrdi once again struggles to his feet. This time without hesitation, Ujio runs back and rains blows upon Byrdi’s now defenseless body. First the wrist, then the back, then the stomach, and then finally the head. Byrdi hits the ground, unconscious, his fingers still clutching the sword. Ujio reaches down, pries it from his fingers, and breaks it across his knee. With that done the crowd disperses
It isn’t until the evening when Byrdi wakes and finds himself laying painfully on a mat, his eyes unfocused at first. Once he regains his senses he finds that he is again staring up at the black silk band of Neckity’s. As Neckity kneels to swab the cuts on his face he stares at her darkly.
“Who are you people anyway?” He says staring at her
Neckity so badly wants to enlighten him, but she knows for now her secret of speech is best left unknown. So instead she only continues to work on his cut.
“You have no God, you have no mercy, and you don’t even have any fucking walls. Your walls are made of paper, what’s the matter with you?” He growls at her, he wants answer, anything
Neckity only pushes his head aside so she can attend to his neck. He understands so little right now that even if she were to give him the answers to his questions he wouldn’t get it and would only reject it.
“This man tries to kill me and I’ve done nothing to him, and you, I kill your husband and you act like, what? Like I’m a guest in your house. What is wrong with you?” he says snarling at her now, he’s not sure why he’s trying to make her angry, perhaps if someone were angry with him for the right reason things might start to make sense, or maybe there is something deeper. He couldn’t tell you himself.
This last said so intensely that she glances at him before picking up a bowl of soup she had brought for him, and bringing it to his lips…
“Do you have a soul at all?” He shakes his head and then stares at her for a moment
In further attempt to provoke her he knocks the soup out of her hands and watches the bowl shatter on the floor. For a brief second he sees a flash of anger fall across her face, and then the usual stone face, a mask of politeness. But the flash, that flash, so she is human. It is enough to satisfy him and he calms down. Neckity bows politely and walks out, He sight exhausted only to see her approach again with a new bowl. His eyes lock again on that black piece of cloth, how much he wants to rip it from her face, see what is under it, look into her eyes and see if she has a soul. Instead he must settle himself with that brief flash of anger and slowly he takes a sip. When the soup is finished she bows once more and walks out of the room blowing out the candle, it is time to rest.
As she prepares to walk into her room she finds herself face to face with Yoritomo
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Yoritomo shakes his head, he will never understand her, and he wondered what was going through his brother’s mind when he came back with her from the Kainith elf kingdom. Came back and called her his wife.
It is early the next mourning and Byrdi is led past baldheaded monks into an ancient shrine. Bai Shi-zi kneels before a small altar. He doesn’t seem aware that Byrdi is present.
“Ujio is teaching you the way of the Salatar sword.” Bai Shi-zi says with calmness in his voice never even turning to see Byrdi.
“Is that what he’s doing?” Byrdi says taking a deep breath.
“At what age did you become I soldier?” Bai Shi-zi says smiling at him
“Twelve.” Byrdi says lowering his head. That was how old he was when he became a member of the Hitori clan.
“To fight in your western civil war.” Bai Shi-zi says never taking his eyes off the alter
“Yes.” Byrdi says not sure if that was the reason he became a soldier, but it is as good as any to tell this man.
“Tell me about that war” Bai Shi-zi says turning and then smiling at him a bit.
“What about it?” Byrdi asks wondering which particular part he will want to know.
“Everything.” Bai Shi-zi says the smile never leaving his face
“Everything about the civil war?” Byrdi says shocked, to talk about the Denerith elf civil war, it will take ages.
Bai Shi-zi sits impassively, staring at the altar. There is no reason to repeat himself, he knows that Byrdi heard him and to repeat it would only make it sound like he is assuming Byrdi is ignorant.
“That would take a year.” Byrdi says taking a deep breath.
“You have pressing business elsewhere?” Byrdi says turning once more and smiling at him.
“The civil war, no one knows when it started. I don’t think Denerith elves have ever been united. The war you know about it actually a rebellion against the Kainith elves. The Kainith elves united the Denerith elves for a bit through money. But other clan still rebel. The Hitori, the Takada and what are left of the Unagi. But they are small rebellions and not getting anywhere.” He says and looks down. If only they could get a foot hold.
“I have heard that the Hitori has been playing both sides. I know you have fought the Kainith elves but I have heard your father has fought the Takada clan. Is this wise” Bai Shi-zi asks calmly
“No, it was stupid.” Byrdi says growling now. He hates the idea of splitting the force of the Hitori
“Why?” Bai-Shi-zi asks wondering what is going on in the young mans head. This enemy makes him curious.
“The point of a battle is to win, or at least have enough men survive to fight another day.” Byrdi says lowering his head
“You did not try to survive when we took you prisoner.” Bai Shi-zi says his smile never fading
“What do you want from me?” Byrdi says snarling in frustration.
“You know they’re not going to ransom me.” Byrdi says sure that he is trying to get money for him
“We have little use for money.” Bai Shi-zi says his voice calm as he turns back to the alter.
“Then what are you doing, why are you asking me these questions, what is going on here?” Byrdi asks now standing his fury mounting
“The snows will melt in May, and the passes will open, and the events of the world will unfold. Until that time, you are here. I enjoyed this conversation in your common tongue. I hope you will honor me with more tomorrow.” Bai Shi-zi says, stands, bows politely and then leaves him sitting there. The politeness of this man and this country is driving him nuts.
Days, maybe weeks have passed as Byrdi walks into the main room of the house. Kneeling at the table is young Toshiie. He labors over a scroll with a brush; the gentle brush strokes are hypnotic as they sweep across the rice paper. Byrdi tries to indicate that he would like pen and paper for himself. Toshiie smiles and runs off, but soon come back with Byrdi’s journal that was captured with him, he has not seen it since he got here and now wonders what the young boy was doing with it. Slowly he flips through the pages and finds that everything is in tact, as a matter of fact in the middle of the journal is his pen, right where he left off in his journal. Byrdi bows politely at Toshiie and flips it open taking the pen in his hand and begins to write.
‘Day unknown, month unknown. I continue to live among these strange people.’
He stops writing for a moment, he wants to put everything into this but he wonders how to describe these people. He remembers when he started training, it was a few days ago, or it seemed like a few days, it is hard to tell now. Bai Shi-zi sat watching Ujio bark orders to the men he is training. A sudden Movement of their eyes caused Ujio to stop. When he turned he found Byrdi standing at the end of the line, holding I wooden sword. An almost imperceptible look passes between Ujio and Bai Shi-zi, but Ujio’s Resentment is over-ruled without a word, he was allowed to continue.
‘Each day I am confounded by their strange customs and contradictions, savagery followed by mildness. Everything seems to be in contradiction to each other, but at the same time there is a balance in it all. They seem to value nothing more then their families, and yet they kill defenseless wounded men without a shade of remorse.’
He finishes writing and then lays down his pen. He wants to say more, but it is so hard, these people are a mystery and even though he has lived with them and seen everything, they are still a puzzle waiting to be solved.
Later that night Byrdi kneels at the table with the rest of the family as they eat. He is in considerable pain from the rigors of training. He tries to roll the stiffness out of his neck, when be notices that Higen it imitating him. Toshiie laughs. Yoritomo sternly tells Higen not to make fun of their guest. Yoritomo apologizes to Byrdi, who shakes his head unnecessary.
“Raisu?
Everyone stops, shocked. He has spoken! Yoritomo calls for Neckity to serve him more rice, and then begins yammering enthusiastically in Salatar. Byrdi holds up his hand.
“Not so fast, what is this?” Byrdi says holding up his chopsticks, with their language maybe he can understand them more.
“Hashi.” Yoritomo says his eyes widening, finally a chance to converse with this stranger.
“Hashi.” Byrdi repeats, a break through
Yoritomo nods enthusiastically, almost giddy with delight at the strangers willingness to learn.
The boys are suddenly dervishes, pulling various objects from the table and around the room, shouting the Salatar words for each.
Byrdi shakes his head, and smiles for the first time in longer then he can remember. Yoritomo manages to quiet the boys. He points to himself.
“Yoritomo.” he says letting Byrdi know that it is his name, names should come first the rest will come later.
“Byrdi.” Byrdi says pointing to himself getting the idea that this is an introduction.
“Byrdi” Yoritomo repeats slowly making sure to get the name right.
Byrdi nods, and the boys start screaming with delight at all of this.
“Higen. Toshiie. Neckity.” Yoritomo says pointing to his two brothers and then to Neckity in turn.
He knows there names, he can be taught, that simple fact now makes him a man, and not some animal that they are keeping as a favor.
“Higen. Toshiie. Neckity.” Byrdi says bowing slightly to Higen and Toshiie, but gives Neckity a deep low bow of respect.
She meets his eyes for the slightest moment, then looks down and walks away. Byrdi expected as much, she hates him and she has every right.
Yoritomo watches her leave but also notices that it doesn’t seem to hinder Byrdi’s willingness to learn, the night is filled with the boys pointing to things and telling him the names in their language. But soon darkness falls and Yoritomo begins to hurry them off to bed. Byrdi takes this moment to go and speak with Bai Shi-zi. There is still so much to know so much he still doesn’t understand. He only hopes that this time he will answer.
It doesn’t take him long to get to Bai Shi-zi’s house, there he finds him arranging flowers. The whole time he is there he watches in confusion, as this powerful lord goes about doing something so feminine and delicate. Of course when he got there he asked his questions, but as usual the conversation has yielded no answers and instead has turned back into a conversation about the Denerith elves and their ways.
“You believe that your counties could rule with a council of all the clans, why is that” Bai Shi-zi asks still arranging the flowers.
“To keep any one clan from being too powerful.” Byrdi says calmly, the council has been the idea for many years; he was not the first to come up with it.
“Do not a people need a powerful ruler to protect them?” Bai Shi-zi says not yet looking at Byrdi.
“We believe the opposite.” Byrdi says feeling that is it right the people lead. It was an idea handed down to him from his mother Rin, and then Mellyruna.
There is a moment of silence as Bai Shi-zi thinks about all of this, to let the people lead, it is a grand idea, but how often to the people really understand what they need. That is the task of a ruler, to choose best for the people, and yet, not to control them, to walk that razor thin line between the two.
“I have a question. How do you come to speak Common?” Byrdi asks calmly, it has been a question in his mind for a while now. No one else in the village speaks it, so where did he learn it.
“Members of the Council were required to study it. Yes, I was a member of the government. I helped restore the Emperor to the throne.” Bai Shi-zi says giving Byrdi the chance to learn more. He wonders if Byrdi will ask the right questions.
“And now you must hate him for what he’s done.” Byrdi says knowing the story all to well. A leader doesn’t agree and makes war, common, all too common.
“He is my blood. I serve him with my life.” Bai Shi-zi says a bit offended but keeps it to himself, this is a Denerith elf and doesn’t understand. He shall show him the path and hope he understands eventually.
“By fighting his army?” Byrdi says a scoff in his voice.
“I do not fight the emperor. I fight those who seek to influence him, those who betray the soul of my country.” He says and for the first time in the conversation turns and faces Byrdi.
Slowly and calmly Bai Shi-zi draws his long Vulkoori sword, and places it next to the flowers on the table in front of him.
“The Emperor gave this blade to my ancestors 400 years ago. It has been used only to defend his sacred honor.” Byrdi says and then picks the blade up handling it tenderly, like a lover. Then slowly he presents it to Byrdi. Byrdi slowly takes it
uneasy then slowly studies it.
“It takes many years to make a sword. It is a holy act. A Vulkoori’s sword is his soul.” Bai Shi-zi says and smiles as Byrdi takes his time to study the blade.
“This sword is flawed. What is this uneven line near the edge?” Byrdi says and points to the flaw showing Bai Shi-zi.
“One man is flexible and compromises too much to avoid conflict. Another man is so fierce he wins every battle, but so rigid he can never know peace. A man who knows both is the perfect warrior. The same is true of a blade. One steel bends, and the other cuts. And where they meet is never perfect Hold the blade up. ” Bai Shi-zi says smiling that he can teach another the influence and art of the blade, show a man his ignorance and correct it.
Byrdi holds the sword, cutting edge up. Bai Shi-zi takes a silk cloth and drops it. It gently billows down—and splits evenly on the edge.
