Mantis

by India Millar

  I stayed face down on the tatami, waiting for my next order. Mentally, I was elated. If the morphine could have such an effect on me, one who had been trained to use my mind to obey every command of my body, what would be the effect on a man like Akafumu, who expected the world to pamper him? I had kept back most of the morphine pills with the idea that I could feed Akafumu a few at a time and watch his progress. But surely there were enough that I could keep back a few for my own use? I smiled with pleasure at the thought, and then closed my eyes tightly as the reality of the thing smacked me like a blow.

  Just one tablet of the morphine had released the divine in me. It had led me to pleasures that should rightly belong only to the gods. And the gods were said to be very jealous of anything that was their gift alone. I remembered Adam telling me how his friend had come to depend on the drug and had lost everything in his desire to dwell in its pleasures. I shuddered; Akafumu could have all the pills. I wanted nothing more to do with them.

  “I’m certain that the morphine will cause you no ill effects, lord.” I spoke into the tatami, grateful that I had no need to show my face as I lied. “Quite the contrary.”

  “It appears not. You may rise, Kamakiri.” He had used my name instead of merely calling me anma. He was pleased, then. “Well, as you stole them in the first place, I don’t need to pay you for them. And you haven’t even given me a massage, so I don’t owe you for that. Still…” He fingered the pill bottle, turning it in his fingers. “I shall be kind. Ask my chamberlain for your usual fee on the way out.”

  I rose and began backing toward the door, bowing humbly as I went. My hand was on the shoji when Akafumu’s voice stopped me. I paused, my breath held in my throat as I wondered if he had, somehow, suspected me.

  “Three of these a day, you say? More if I have pain?”

  “That is so, lord,” I replied quickly.

  “There are not many pills here. Will there be enough to cure my pain?”

  I pretended to think about his question carefully. “Perhaps not, lord. Would you like me to try and get you more? It will be very difficult for me, as I’m sure the gaijin will know it was me who stole them. If I go back to see him, he will surely be angry. And he might not even have any more of the magic pills.”

  I shuffled my feet and hunched my shoulders, hoping I appeared to be terrified.

  “I don’t care if he’s angry or not.” Akafumu sounded irritated. “You will go back and see your gaijin. If he doesn’t have any more pills, you will persuade him to get some for you.”

  Even knowing how selfish Akafumu was, I was surprised. I spoke with genuine astonishment. “But, lord, how am I supposed to make him get more pills? He’ll want to know what I did with the first lot and why I want more. It’s impossible, lord.”

  I could have handed over the lot today. But caution told me to walk carefully. I would feed them to him slowly so that he didn’t realize that the drug had taken him entirely in its power. Only then, when it was too late, would there be no more pills.

  My only regret was that I would not be there to see him sink into degradation. I was so delighted with my plan that I was almost ashamed of myself. For a second, at least, then Akafumu’s next words drove any sympathy away.

  “Impossible? You dare say that to me?” Akafumu sounded incredulous. I hung my head and moaned with pretended fear. “You will get me those pills. If you don’t get them for me, then I will have you executed. I’m sure that knowledge will sharpen your wits.”

  “Yes, lord,” I said quickly. I was almost through the door when Akafumu spoke again.

  “A moment, anma. Where do you live? I may have need to send for you.”

  “On Willow Road, lord,” I said smoothly. “My dwelling is between two houses, perhaps halfway down. It is not much, but it keeps the rain and cold from my poor bones.”

  That was where Reiki’s poor hovel had been. If Akafumu sent his men there, they would not find me, but they would find the sort of home they expected.

  Akafumu was grinning. I guessed he thought he had been cunning, fooling the poor, blind anma into telling him where she lived.

  “Excellent. I want you back here in five days, at this time. You will bring me more of the magic pills. If you do not come, then my men will find you. And if they have to search for you, I tell you now you can expect no mercy from me.”

  “I understand, lord. I will get you more of the magic pills.”

  I was so elated, I almost neglected to ask the chamberlain for my fee. Almost, but not quite. I turned the small coins he gave me over in my hands, comparing them with the gold ichibuban that Adam had given to me. Truly, Akafumu deserved everything the gods—with a little help from me—bestowed on him!

  Matsuo was waiting for me. I untied him and trudged behind him, tapping carefully with Yo’s staff. I was pleased I had it. The wood was very smooth from much use, and if it hadn’t been so very hard, it would have reminded me a little of his skin. I sighed, wishing I could share my triumph with him. He would laugh, I knew, when I told him how very selfish and very stupid the great lord Akafumu was showing himself to be.

  He would be back soon. But I hoped not too soon. I had a great deal left to do before he returned.

  Sixteen

  Just as the moon has

  The sun for a lover, so

  Are you my reverse?

  “Matsuo. What’s the matter with you?”

  My akita had stopped at the entrance to our home. He wasn’t growling, but his hackles were raised and he was sniffing the air with his head up. I glanced around; there was nothing out of the ordinary that I could see. Still, if my dog was anxious, then I would be careful.

  I slid the shoji back smoothly, without hesitation. If there was someone inside, I wanted them to think I was unaware of their presence.

  “Come along, Matsuo,” I said cheerfully. I tapped my way in with my staff, keeping up my pretense of blindness. All my senses were working with great clarity, and I understood at once there was something wrong. I could smell a clean, sharp odor. The charcoal-burner had been moved and looked different. I bent to pat Matsuo and heard a movement off to my left. I snapped upright immediately, my staff raised ready to strike.

  “Niko!” I stopped my swing abruptly, my staff barely a hand’s width from her head. “What in the names of all the gods are you doing here? And how did you find me?”

  Obviously realizing Niko was no threat, Matsuo had abandoned his defensive stance. He was sitting on the old kakebuton that served as his bed and was scratching behind his ear. I poked him with my foot, but he took no notice. I was furious, both with Niko and myself. She had no right to be here. And my shock at seeing her had been so great that I had forgotten I was supposed to be blind. I caught myself up at once; this would be a lesson for me in the future. No matter how distracted or surprised I was, I must always remember that I was an anma. Niko appeared not to have noticed. She flung herself against me and wrapped her hands around my waist, muffling her face in my robe.

  “Kamakiri, I’ve been waiting ages for you! I thought you were never going to come back. Look, I’ve cleaned everywhere for you. And the kettle’s ready to boil for tea. I would have prepared a meal for you, but there’s no food.”

  I glanced around. She certainly had cleaned. There wasn’t a speck of dust anywhere. And everywhere was so tidy. The house was as clean and sweet as my apartment had been when I had had servants to care for my every need.

  “Thank you.” I tugged her away from me. “But what are you doing here? And how did you find me?” I took a sharp breath as I saw her clearly, then remembering I was blind stopped myself commenting on the cuts and bruises that puffed out her face.

  “I followed you yesterday.” She beamed. “The shoji was unlocked, so today I just came in.”

  Of course the shoji was unlocked. What was the point of locking something that could be torn apart with a sharp knife? Unlike my family home, where the great doors to the outside walls had been securely barred
at night to deter intruders. Even better, the entrance hall to the house had a nightingale floor. The wooden blocks looked completely normal, but they had been laid by cunning workmen. Random blocks were fitted so that they moved at a footstep, and with each movement, they creaked and groaned so the noise echoed through the silent house. When I was a child, I had spent hours learning which blocks moved, and had amused myself greatly by learning to tread over the floor in absolute silence. Even Isamu caused the blocks to scream occasionally, generally when he was very late in returning at night and careless through too much sake. Once Yo and I had a house of our own, I decided I would speak to him about having a nightingale floor in the entrance. It was an extravagance, but if it ensured our safety, it was worth the expense.

  “But what are you doing here?” I recalled myself to the moment.

  “Aren’t you pleased to see me?” Niko’s lip trembled. I was grateful I was not supposed to be able to see it. “I’ve been worried about you. I suppose you were out, pretending to be an anma again?”

  I sighed. I suppose I could have laughed at her. Told her she was talking nonsense. That I had no need to pretend to be an anma. But what was the point? Niko was as sharp as a needle. She knew I could see as well as she could.

  “Never mind all that. What are you doing here? And what happened to your face?”

  “It’s nowhere near as bad as the rest of me.” Niko seemed quite proud of her cuts and bruises. She stood back and unloosed her obi, spreading her kimono wide. I winced. She was so thin, I could count each rib. But apart from that, her belly and chest were black. I could make out the marks of knuckles, where individual blows had landed. I felt her pain.

  “Your father?” I guessed.

  She nodded. “I told you he would be angry with me.” Niko shrugged. “When I went home and said an anma had rescued me from the men he had sold me to when she heard me screaming, he was furious. I think he’d been drinking, and that always makes him bad-tempered. He said he wouldn’t be able to take me out again in case any of the men saw him, and it was all my fault for not keeping my mouth shut. I tried to tell him that they really would have taken me this time, but he didn’t care. He was so annoyed with me for answering him back, he beat me.”

  She fastened her robe again and hunched her narrow shoulders at the memory.

  “You ran away,” I said. I found it very difficult to hide my anger at her father’s treatment of her.

  Niko shrugged her shoulders. “He shut me in the bedroom. And then he went back to his sake. When he started snoring, I crept out and came here.” She looked at me anxiously and added, “I haven’t come empty-handed. I’ve still got the purse I took off Choki. I was going to give it to Father, but I decided he didn’t deserve it when he beat me.”

  Niko delved in the sleeve of her kimono and held the purse out to me.

  “Keep it. You’ll need it,” I said firmly. “You don’t want to go back to your father, I suppose? He might be in a better mood when he sobers up.”

  “I’m not going back,” Niko said defiantly. “He said he was really going to sell me to a brothel this time. And he meant it. If you don’t let me stay here with you, I’ll use Choki’s money to buy myself some nice clothes. I might as well set myself up as a yujo and go on the streets. It’s no worse than being sold to a brothel, but at least that way I get to keep whatever I earn.”

  I stared at her rebellious expression and realized she meant it. For all her apparently worldly wisdom, I thought that Niko could have no idea what she was considering. A child of her age, offering herself on the streets? At the very best, a yakuza would soon get to hear about her, and she would find herself offered the sort of “protection” that she could not refuse. At worst, she would be snatched and end up in the very brothel her father had considered for her. What was I thinking of? Of course, that wasn’t the worst that could happen to her. The very worst—and the most likely—outcome was that she would be murdered by one of her patrons. A man who either enjoyed inflicting extreme violence or one who thought so little of her that he preferred to kill her rather than pay her fee.

  Niko obviously interpreted my prolonged silence as irritation. She kneeled quickly at my feet and spoke humbly.

  “Please, Kamakiri, let me stay with you. At least until the bruises fade. I’m not going to attract many customers in this state, am I? I don’t eat much. And I’m very good at cleaning and washing. I’ve looked after Father since I was ever so little. Please?”

  What could I say? For a fleeting moment, I wondered how I was going to explain my new sister to Yo when he returned. I shrugged the thought away as irrelevant. With a little good fortune, Niko would be gone before he came back. The kannushi at Jokan-Ji Temple might know somebody who wanted a servant. If Niko really could clean and cook, and came with a recommendation from the kannushi, she would soon find a place.

  And if Yo’s business was finished quickly? Would he really be so very sorry to have somebody about the place who knew how to cook and keep the house clean? After all, I knew I was sadly lacking in domestic skills. Like every other samurai daughter, I had been taught the traditional tea ceremony. My ikebana flower arrangements were exquisite, and I could sing and dance beautifully. But I could not cook—even the production of a simple bowl of rice was beyond my talents—and the idea of cleaning made me feel helpless. I felt deeply disloyal to Yo as I had a sudden pang of longing to be pampered at least a little.

  “Please, can I stay?” Niko’s pleading broke in on my thoughts. I shrugged. Even if she was no better at household tasks than I was, I had to let her stay. Turning her out to fend for herself in the Floating World was unthinkable. The code of bushido was perfectly clear; the needy had to be cared for, without question. Niko was, whether I liked it or not, my responsibility.

  “You can stay. At least for a while.” I watched her face light up with pleasure and I was touched.

  “Thank you!” She took my hand, pulling me around the house and showing me what she had already done. I was impressed. Every surface gleamed. The tatami smelled fragrant and had obviously been well brushed. There was fresh water in the jar in the kitchen, ready for use. “Shall I make us some tea?”

  I nodded. I found Niko’s pride in a job well done charming.

  Niko’s tea was very good. She handed me my brimming cup without ceremony, but I was pleased to sip the scalding hot liquid. I knew I was being grossly impolite, but I had to speak.

  “Niko, you stink,” I said bluntly. She sniffed her armpit and shrugged.

  “Do I? I suppose I must. I haven’t had a bath in ages.”

  The contrast between Niko’s sweaty odor and the sweet cleanliness of the house was too much for me to bear.

  “Come on.” I stood up. “There’s a good public bath close by. We’ll go and get clean and then have something to eat.”

  “Yes, Kamakiri,” Niko said meekly. “Are we going to take your dog with us or would you like me to guide you?”

  I glanced at her suspiciously, but her face was innocent.

  Seventeen

  All women know that

  When clad only in their skin,

  All men are the same

  The bath was wonderful. Hot and steaming and smelling faintly of the minerals in the water. We were fortunate; apart from us, it was empty.

  Niko—obviously taking her new duties seriously—pushed the maid aside and soaped and rinsed me repeatedly herself. When it came to her turn, she allowed the maid to do her duty, lifting her arms and turning with obvious pleasure. Finally clean, she climbed in beside me and spoke loudly, for the benefit of the hovering maid.

  “Anma-san, are you quite comfortable? When you’re ready, I’ll help you out. The tiles are slippery, and it would be easy for you to miss your footing.”

  I thanked her gravely. As soon as the maid left, I asked her the question that had been on my mind since I had found her in my home.

  “How did you know I’m not blind?”

  “I didn’t. Or
at least, I wasn’t quite sure. Not until you didn’t deny it earlier,” she said cheerfully. I frowned; I must remember never to let my guard drop for a second in the future. “You do it really well,” she went on. “Anybody would think you really were an anma. The only thing that made me wonder in the first place was when you came into the house where the men were holding me. You looked at me, and just for the tiniest moment, I could see you were furious with them. I knew you were going to look after me then.”

  “I’m not going to look after you,” I said crisply. “You can stay until my man gets back, then we’ll find a proper job for you.”

  “Is he a ninja?” I stared at this impossible child in disbelief. “Your man, I mean. Are you a ninja as well? I’ve never heard of a woman ninja, but the way you use your staff is just as good as a man ever could be. Will you teach me to fight?”

  It took me a moment to sort out the flood of words. When I had, I spoke slowly, and very carefully.

  “My man is shinobi,” I said finally. “That’s the correct name for a ninja. But you must never, ever tell anybody that. He would be furious if he thought I had told you. Secrecy is essential for a shinobi. If it became known that he was shinobi, his life would be ruined.”

  I shook my head to myself, wondering what enchantment this child carried that she could see and understand things that were hidden to all others.

  “Of course I wouldn’t say anything that you told me not to,” Niko said indignantly. She lowered her voice and looked around furtively, even though we were alone. “Are you a ninja—I mean, shinobi—as well?”

  “No. I am a warrior woman of the samurai. I am onna-bugeisha.”

  Niko repeated my words silently. I could see they meant nothing at all to her and I sighed, wondering how I could ever explain the code of bushido and my quest as a samurai warrior to her.

  I had no need; after a moment, she said simply, “I don’t know what an onna-bugeisha is. But I know who you are. You’re the samurai lady whose family was slaughtered in the last uprising. You were supposed to marry some old man or other, but you refused him. The gossip said you had committed suicide rather than accept him. Everybody thought it was a very romantic thing to do, but I’m glad you’re still alive. Why are you pretending to be an anma? Is it something to do with getting revenge? The rumors were about you, weren’t they?”