Gloria Oliver (42 page)

Asaka said nothing.

The two men drifted on to the waiting table. They continued to speak, but their voices were too low for him to overhear anymore. After several minutes there, Asaka rejoined his group. Asano stood and called for everyone’s attention.

“I wish to warmly welcome all of you to my humble home. Your coming has brought me more joy than you will ever know,” he stated. “Your mission is over, your duty is done. What you have so selflessly given goes beyond the bounds of Bushido. A shrine shall be built in your honor where your names shall be praised throughout time.”

Asano stood tall, as a man reborn, his gaze carefully memorizing every one of the skeletons before him.

“Your clan was wronged during the time of your absence, its existence struck from the records. This I have sworn to rectify. The Asaka clan shall exist once again, all its previous lands and more placed under its control.”

Toshi stared at Asaka, his heart soaring at the news. He knew the samurai would have never asked for this, though there was probably nothing he wanted more. He knew he was right when he saw Miko hide her face behind her hands.

Asano withdrew a rolled parchment from his sleeve. He carefully smoothed it open and then handed it to those before him. The parchment was written in a meticulous hand, Asano’s signature stamped in red at the bottom. The excitement amongst Asaka’s men was almost palpable. It abruptly died, however, as they all recalled no living heir remained to the Asaka clan.

“An heir has been found by means of adoption.” Asaka stepped forward to stand at Asano’s side. “I have found someone worthy of carrying the family name. All that remains is to obtain his consent.”

Asaka had found someone to become his heir. Toshi felt his own excitement growing. Yes, surely during all his years of travel Asaka had found someone worthy long ago. Now that his own mission was over, he needed to make a new life for himself. He could never go back to what he’d been before. Asaka had paid for his freedom. Perhaps the heir would allow him to become one of his servants. The idea appealed to him very much.

“Chizuson-san, would you consent to become my adopted son?”

For a moment, Toshi didn’t realize the question had been directed at him. His eyes grew wide as he realized what had just been said. He’d heard of a few rare occasions when a peasant warrior had been raised to the status of samurai, but him? He was just a boy! How could a samurai of Asaka’s caliber want a mere mapmaker as the new head of his clan?

Shaking, he dropped to his hands and knees, his heart threatening to burst with emotion. “Sir, I’m not worthy of such an honor!”

He stared hard at the ground as he heard Asaka step toward him. He trembled as the samurai’s fleshless hands reached down for him and slowly drew him to his feet.

“You have given us great honor with your efforts on our behalf,” Asaka said softly. “Yet, it isn’t for your sake I wish for you to become my son, but for the clan and its lord. What I offer you isn’t easy, for it means following the ways of Bushido, with all the joys and hardships that go with it. I owe you much more than this, but I am selfish. Though I’ve already asked so much of you, I would ask this one more thing.”

Toshi stared at the samurai’s green, glowing eyes, his breathing growing ragged. His gaze went to the others. All their eyes glowed intensely. His eyes came at last to rest on Himiko. She was smiling. It would be a burden, one he wasn’t so sure he would be able to live up to. But the rewards could be great.

He faced his lord again. “I would consider it a great honor and privilege to become your son, Asaka-sama.” He bowed low.

A roaring cheer rose up from those around him. Asaka and Asano both converged on Toshi and steered him to the small table so he might sign the proper documents before he could think to change his mind.

His vision clouded as he realized he would no longer be Chizuson Toshiro, peasant mapmaker and, of late, adventurer. Now he would be Asaka Toshiro, a samurai lord. His doubts, and the new burden he’d taken on, were pushed behind him as everyone gathered around to offer congratulations. There would be time enough to worry about it all later.

“For the few months left before you reach full manhood, Asano-sama will be your guardian,” Asaka said. “Learn from him all you will need to know.”

“Hai, Asaka-sama.” Miko had been right about him all along.

“You will become an exceptional samurai, Toshi-kun. I know you’ll make us all proud,” Miko said.

He blushed at the strong conviction in her voice. “I’ll do my best.” He hoped it would be enough.

“I know you will,” she said happily.

Toshi became the recipient of a quick hug.

“Find a teacher of good repute,” Mitsuo instructed him. “And do not forget to practice daily. Zen, art and swordsmanship are indispensable to a samurai.” His stooped form seemed to be standing straighter than before.

“I won’t forget, Sensei.”

One by one, the rest of Asaka’s men presented themselves to him and bowed deeply. He understood they were saying goodbye. His stomach tightened as he realized he would soon be on his own again.

“Miko-san?” he asked.

“Yes, Toshi-kun?”

“Must you…” He shook his head. “When will you go?”

Her eyes shone as she turned to look at him. “The sun will soon be here. We haven’t seen it in a long time. After that, we will go.”

“A sun-watching party?” Himiko sounded excited. “What a delightful idea! We’ll do our best to make your last moments as joyful as possible.”

With tears glinting in her eyes, she left them in a flurry of silk, calling for servants as she went. Colorful paper lanterns were brought out, lighting the area brightly enough to make it seem like day. Servants with tables streamed out into the courtyard, their shock barely hidden as they caught glimpses of their unusual guests.

Toshi watched in wonder as Himiko drew each of the skeletal warriors to a table and set them to painting, composing poetry or playing games. She was the perfect hostess, in no way giving the impression she saw them for what they truly were. Realizing this, he became aware he hadn’t thought of them in that way for some time himself. They’d gone from frightening captors to uneasy allies to something much more than he would have ever thought possible.

The next few hours passed. Laughter echoed off and on throughout the courtyard. To his amazement, he even saw his adopted father laugh with abandon. It felt strange. Though he had no true way to tell, he was sure Miko was beaming behind her mask.

As dawn approached, all the lanterns were extinguished. Everyone around him was filled with joy, but Toshi’s own happiness dampened as each of the lanterns was put out. His friends would be leaving soon.

All of Asaka’s men stood as one and gathered in a line in the middle of the courtyard, facing east. Miko hugged Himiko in earnest and thanked her for the lovely evening. Toshi stared at the ground as she then came to bid him farewell.

“Take care, my man-to-be,” Miko said. “If I can, I will look in on you from the next plane.” She hugged him, and as she did so, she whispered into his ear. “Hurry and find yourself a wife so the clan will grow. I also just happen to know of a young lady who’s eligible.”

“As you say, Miko-san.” He pulled away gently, glad she liked Himiko but embarrassed by her words nevertheless.

She left him then and, much to his chagrin, returned to speak to Himiko. He was thinking strongly of trying to put a stop to whatever mischief the geisha was up to when Asaka stepped before him, blocking his view.

“Toshiro-san.”

“Sir?”

“I think you’ll like my old home.”

He had never heard the samurai sound so at ease, so human.

“There are places of harsh beauty there, and others are infused with the harmony so many of us try to attain for ourselves. When you reclaim it, search these places out for me. Let them bring you joy, just as they did for my brothers and me in our youth. Share it with those who come after us.” Asaka’s voice was soft and full of feeling, just as it had been in that dream so long ago. “I can never repay you for what you’ve done, but I’ll make sure your way into the next life is made much easier for it.”

Toshi swallowed hard.

“I have given you my family name, and it’s a burden I’m sure you’ll carry well. Yet, I wish to give you something that has no weight tied to it.” Slowly, Asaka removed his sheathed katana. Holding it in both hands, he presented it.

“Asaka-sama, I can’t! This is—”

“Take it!” The samurai’s harsh whisper contained some of the steel Toshi had come to know so well.

“Yes, Father. Thank you.” He bowed as low as he could and then gingerly took the sword from Asaka’s offering hands.

“Her name is Swift Wind. Take good care of her, and of yourself.” Asaka bowed low.

Not quite daring to slip the sword, and all it signified, into his sash, Toshi held on to it tightly as Asaka walked away. He noticed a piece of rolled paper protruding from the sword’s guard, but dismissed it as the samurai joined the others.

The sky brightened with pinks and oranges. It lightened all around them as they stood waiting. The sun rose to peek over the wall.

Toshi’s eyes never left his companions, his knuckles white as he held onto the sheathed katana. He didn’t even look as he heard Himiko move to stand beside him.

As the rays of the sun struck the courtyard, the colors of the kimonos worn by the skeletons began to fade. Parts of their clothing soon became transparent.

Tears welled in Toshi’s eyes and rolled unhampered down his face. As he wept in mixed joy and sadness, he saw both Asaka and Miko reach up to remove their masks. As the two masks fell to the ground, they turned away from the sun to look upon Toshi one last time.

He heard Himiko gasp beside him as their faces came into view. Their bones were barely visible, most of their bodies barely outlined. Yet, unlike before, they had a semblance of flesh, one as pale and transparent as the rest of them had become. Miko and Asaka’s youthful faces looked at him with joy-filled smiles. The rest of the group turned toward him then and bowed as one before abruptly disappearing. The soft tinkling of bells filled the air.

Toshi looked down at Swift Wind. He removed the note left there for him. His blurred vision fell on the carefully written poem within.

Just as a swift wind can

bring the scents of change, so

can a young wind. Blessed

be all the winds.

The End

About the Author

Born in 1964 in Rio Piedras, Puerto Rico, Gloria bounced around several states during the teenage years, finally ending up in Texas for good. Married for twenty years, she is the proud parent of a very independent daughter. She originally entered the University of Texas in Arlington to obtain an Aerospace degree, but eventually moved over to the University of Texas in Dallas to gain a BA in Interdisciplinary Studies, and is currently working in the finance/accounting field.

Her hobbies at present are reading, writing, watching Japanese animation, collecting music, and translating Japanese comics.

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