Silkpunk and Steam Page 26
I was too exhausted to care if my gaze lingered on the perky buds on her chest for too long. “Do you want the truth or a compliment?”
“The truth.”
“You’ve grown, but one of your chi-chis is still bigger than the other.” I giggled, a little bit of the burden of duty lifting from my shoulders.
They both laughed along with me.
My bath was over all too soon. My hair was wet and it chilled me when I climbed out of the sanctuary of water. I hadn’t been in the bath long enough to keep the draft of the corridor from sinking into my bones. The eboshi didn’t feel as big as it had in the past, and I hoped it would stay on my head this time.
Over the last few times of the tsuma no koukan, I had learned my way about the stone palace. I knew my way to the council chamber behind the curtain hides in the great hall. I went there, hesitating just outside when I heard the soft murmur of voices within. Would the elders chastise me for following Shiromainu’s order and taking his place? Would they glare if I fidgeted like my first time or be angry I had taken so long?
I held my breath and peeled back a plain length of hide and stepped in. I held my eboshi in place as I bowed and greeted everyone. The seed pods attached to it rattled loudly in the quiet room. They greeted me back and managed small bows while keeping their tanuki headdresses in place. I knelt at the table and accepted a cup of hot cha. Just as the first time I’d entered this room, it smelled of old people and rotting teeth. And they’d thought I would stink up the room!
I bowed and said the required niceties. “Nipa sends his regrets for being unable to perform his duties and asked that I should come in his place.”
One of the elderly woman stood and left the table. My stomach sank. After my repeated visits to the village, I hated to think she’d shun me to show that I wasn’t an acceptable replacement. I bowed my head, unable to meet the gazes of the others.
“Sumiko-sama,” a creaky, old voice said. I looked up to find the woman holding out Nipa’s tanuki eboshi. “Please, wear this mantle of leadership to signify your honorary rank.”
I removed my eboshi and replaced it with Shiromainu’s. Pride filled my heart.
For the following three days I continued in this way, sitting in Shiromainu Nipa’s seat on the council, making decisions with them. In truth, I said little and did little. It was a symbolic gesture more than anything else. But I was treated with the same respect as Nipa, so different from the first time I’d joined them and been admonished with glares for making the seedpods on my bridal headdress rattle.
Eventually the topic came up that I dreaded. Even so, I was acting as a nipa. I knew it would have to eventually be discussed.
“Tell us how Nipa fares? Is he getting better?” Grandfather Emusi asked.
“He tells me he has never felt better.” He had said those words, but it was a lie, and they all must have knew it. “He says he will soon be able to join us here.”
They smiled politely and sipped their cha.
“He grows strong in mind because he has a loved one near,” Grandmother Annosuke said. “His body is a different matter. Eventually we will have to choose a new leader to replace Nipa.”
I swallowed the lump in my throat. “Will you do this while he still lives?”
Grandmother Monashir folded her wrinkled hands in her lap. “Of course not.”
Grandfather Shinriki said, “We must ask for his advice. He will have recommendations that you must pass on to us.”
To broach such a subject with a dying man was worse than the torture of starvation. Any answer he gave meant Nipa would be forced to admit his defeat. But it had to be done, like so many other unpleasant duties.
I waited until he was awake and his eyes were lively. I bowed. “Excuse my impoliteness for bringing up matters of business in your personal chamber, but the council of elders wishes to seek your advice on … ahem … on recommending … ano.” I stumbled through the words, my eloquence losing itself somewhere between my brain and tongue.
“Do you know how old I am?” he asked.
I shook my head.
“Seventy-three. I have lived a long life, ne? It has been a good life. I have seen hard times, but I also have seen good as well. It is time for me to choose someone else to lead in my stead. I will make three recommendations and tell you why I make them. I will also tell you what the council will say about my recommendations so that you may argue in my place.”
A flutter of nervousness rose in me. “Argue in your place? You mean argue with my elders?”
He waved me off. “You will be speaking as my voice. You must remember that. Do not let them cow you on account of your youth.” A cough shook him and left him panting.
I wiped the green streak of phlegm from his chin and blankets.
His three recommendations were: Tomomi Sensei who was the wisest of the warriors. The elders would object to her because she had originally come from the Tatsujin tribe and longstanding prejudice hardened their hearts against those who worked with dragons. Even though she had fought against Unyanke Nipa’s tyranny, not all would trust her. They would dislike her blunt manner of speech and her coarseness. She was sisam, not a Tanukijin. It was important I pointed out her assets of loyalty, quick-thinking, intelligence and patience. I was to point out her skills in teaching and fighting, and her strong ethics when justice was concerned.
Shiromainu Nipa’s second choice was Makiri, a warrior I only knew by name. It would be in his favor that he was distantly related to Shiromainu’s family line and a strong warrior. Nipa also acknowledged he was headstrong and stubborn. He was quick to judge and this would be seen as a vice. I would have to remind them of his dealings with the gaijin and how his impulsiveness had saved the tribe rather than hinder them on multiple occasions. He was a strong choice, but it was possible the elders would be swayed from Makiri, as Petennouk had also been Nipa’s relation, and that hadn’t made him a wise man.
Petennouk also had been impulsive.
“I must avoid another fiasco like the last one.” Nipa looked small and cowed when he said it. I wondered how much of his sickness had been my doing—that I’d caused him disgrace, which had eaten away at his belly. Such things let bad kamuy into the body.
“The last choice I leave up to you,” Nipa said. “Go to the practice field and be my eyes. Sup with my people and be my ears. Find who is respected and wise among them and report to me who you think I should choose.”
Tomomi Sensei took shifts with grandmothers while Shiromainu napped so that I could serve him this way while he rested. Since he rested often, this gave me many short spurts of time to perform such duties. I became his legs that walked across the practice field along the bank of the river below the cliff palace. My eyes and ears were his, and the service of my mind and body became consumed with the importance of my task. I wore myself out gathering bits of information and then taking turns at his side, gathering more gossip, and then returning.
After breakfast in the great hall, two of my friends cornered me as I tried to retreat.
“Come to the onsen with us,” Chinatsu begged.
I shook my head. “I can’t. I have duties. I must return to Nipa.”
Chinatsu took my face in her hand. “You’ll wear yourself thin running about like this.”
“I already am thin. I can’t get thinner.”
Opere poked me in the ribs. “You can just as easily listen to gossip while you soak in the hot water as you can listen on the practice field or interviewing warriors. Join us, please. Let us take care of you.”
Such temptation.
I bowed my head. “Another day.”
“Promise me you will let us pamper you tomorrow. If you don’t agree, I will tell the grandmothers and they will force you to rest,” Chinatsu teased.
“When my duty is done, you may pamper me all you want.” I bowed and backed away.
Shiromainu awaited in his chamber. I did all I could to improve
his condition with salve and memory exchange. After each memory of happy times that I gave him, I wanted nothing more than to fall into a heap at his side and rest, but I made myself stay awake to go out again.
For days I worked at the task I had been given. I sought the best leader, but none met my high standards. No one had the experience needed to be a nipa. No one understood the dangers the village faced against kasha kamuy or gaijin.
No one here would love Faith and accept her as an insider.
Two weeks into my stay, I woke one morning to hear the way Shiromainu’s chest rattled worse than before. He struggled to cough up the phlegm filling his lungs. The pain in his leg and hip was so great he couldn’t drink broth.
“Well, Sumiko-san, who do you recommend?” he asked.
I had to give him an answer soon. I told him what I observed.
“Horiuchi-san is respected among the warriors. He is harsh and strict, but he commands their respect.” He was the one who had stayed in my village with Taishi.
Each word sounded a struggle as he spoke. “Do you know what the elders will whisper is his weakness?”
“He is too much the warrior and not enough the peacekeeper?” I guessed.
He tried to shake his head, but held a hand to his temple in pain. I reapplied the cold cloth to his forehead.
“Years ago, a rumor started that Horiuchi-san spent too much time with young men rather than in the company of women.”
I tried to process this. “So people dislike he hasn’t taken a wife? Why should that matter? It makes no difference in his ability to be a leader.”
“Ah, my innocent, Sumiko-chan. Those who are careless with their love risk prejudice.”
He might have meant Horiuchi. Or he might have meant me and my affection for Faith. I stared at the reed mats peeking out from under his bedding.
“If you could speak the matter over with him and ask him to take a wife, it might not be a problem,” Shiromainu said.
“I will do so if it is your bidding, but I must wait until he returns. Tomomi Sensei said he will stay with the Chiramantepjin in her stead.”
“Tell me another possibility.”
I moved on to the next candidate. “Unkatuye-san is well-loved. She is respected as the wisest woman in the tribe. She was captured by the off-worlders and enslaved for a time, so she understands their ways and some of their language, which may be of use in the future. But she isn’t as great of a warrior as Horiuchi-san or Tomomi Sensei. She is gentle and takes a long time to think matters over, sometimes too long. The pressure of leadership might break her.”
“Yes, she is no great nipa like your mother was. Who else?”
I hesitated. “There is one more.” Did I dare suggest who I truly thought would be the best leader? I cleared my throat. “There is Taishi Nipa.” The words came out in a rush. “He already has experience with leadership. Some here know him and are loyal to him. He has proven to be just and kind. After dinner I sometimes hear those in the great hall tell tales of his courage.” Like river water flowing in the spring, I couldn’t stop the increasing trickle of words. “All remember Taishi Nipa’s mother and the great respect she commanded, how she served not just as leader of the Chiramantepjin, but was to be elected the representative of all Jomon tribes. The nipa of nipas, people call her in stories. People trusted her and they see the same charisma and honesty in Taishi Nipa. He is the best choice.”
“Very well. A wise choice.” Shiromainu’s lips curled upward in smile. From the twinkle in his eyes, I had the sense he had known I would choose my brother. “What is your brother’s greatest vice?”
I swallowed. It felt like betrayal to speak of his greatest weakness out loud. Not that it was a secret, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. Instead, I described a lesser weakness. “He is sisam—he is a Chiramantepjin, not a Tanukijin. Since he isn’t a member of this tribe and doesn’t know all of your ways, that might cause friction. Some will think he is an outsider and has no right to claim such a position.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Ei! That is not his greatest disadvantage. What will the elders say about him?”
I didn’t want to criticize my brother, whom I’d always been taught not to speak ill of while he’d been leader among my own people. Didn’t Shiromainu realize how hard this was for me? It would have been easier had he spoken the truth himself.
“I’m waiting,” he said.
I looked down at my hands in my lap. Remnants of green memory moss stained my finger nails. “They will say he keeps an off-worlder as a geari wife. People will not understand and think him a fool or a traitor.”
“Just so.”
“But she is also his greatest advantage. He knows more than anyone about the gaijin because of her. He knows which ships have machines that shoot out arrows of lightning and which are unarmed. He asks her advice about their gaijin customs and their behaviors so he knows when danger is near and how to protect his tribe. He knows the language and can spy on them—or barter with them for food. Does Unkatuye have this much knowledge? No, and her knowledge is tainted by hatred. Her bias means she might not be willing to see when gaijin could be of use to us.”
“A great warrior knows how to use his weaknesses to his advantage. It may be so with your brother,” Shiromainu said. “But do you think the elders will see it that way after all the violence we have experienced at the hands of the off-worlders?”
I wrung the edge of my attush in my hands, then stopped when I saw him staring. “I should not have suggested it. Sumimasen.”
“On the contrary, I wouldn’t expect anything less from you. He is your brother. You know him best and would know if he would make a good nipa. The next time the council meets, make this recommendation on my behalf. It is up to you to defend it.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Another American Ship Destroyed
The area of space between Planet 157, the Oregon Territories, and the Left Arm of the Milky Way is becoming known as a hotspot for pirate activity. Captains of vessels running supplies or homesteaders to the area are warned to be on the lookout for suspicious ships and report any French vessels to British intelligence.
—excerpt from the London Station Times
I could see the problem with Taishi becoming Nipa. He would not accept without permitting Faith to come with him. The elders would only elect him if he didn’t have his gaijin geari wife.
Nonetheless, I made my first two recommendations to the council of elders, listening to them squabble with each other over each one. When I came to Taishi they stopped arguing. The only sound in the room was a grandmother sucking on her teeth.
I kept my head high, forcing myself not to weaken under their scrutiny. I calmly explained the reasons and then added, “What have you to say about Nipa’s last recommendation?”
Even before the flood of response came, I knew it would be hard to listen to the criticism they might have of my brother.
Grandmother Pirka smoothed her hand over a black sleeve of designs that decorated her skin. “We do not know him.”
“He is too far away,” said other.
I kept my fists at my sides where the shakiness of my hands would be out of their sight. “You might invite him here to speak with you.”
One grandmother muttered, “I hear he will not leave his encampment unless we allow all in his tribe to join us.”
There it was, my brother’s weakness. I made my face still and expressionless, so they wouldn’t see she was my weakness as well. “I recommend you speak with those who have lived as part of his tribe: Grandmother Annosuke, Midori, Ursai, Honoka, Katsuo, Ichiro, Minato, Munin and Tomomi Sensei. Ask them for accounts of his character and for descriptions of all in his tribe. Send for him so that you might judge him for yourselves.”
It surprised me they did as I bade.
I lay beside Nipa that night, thinking about Faith. She was my weakness. I thought of the kindness in her blue eyes and the way
she smiled when she drew my portrait. I longed to feel her arms around me. If I didn’t succeed at making my brother the new nipa, I didn’t know what I’d do.
A tickle against my cheek roused me from my worries. I rubbed the sensation away and when it came again, I sat up. Shiromainu’s breath rattled beside me. The tickle came again, this time against my nose. I swatted at it. A flutter brushed against my cheek and my arm. It was too dark to see with the fire mere coals, but I knew the signs.
Blood moths. Only, it couldn’t be. Shiromainu wasn’t bleeding. He coughed in his sleep, a pathetic, ineffective effort.
I laid a hand on his shoulder. “Are you wounded?” I asked. “Have you any new injuries?”
He grunted in reply and fell back to sleep.
I stoked the fire with fresh wood and checked him for wounds as best I could in the semi-darkness. A metallic odor tainted the air close to him.
I kept watch so I could swat away the moths and kill them before they tried to crawl into his nose and choke him.
As the sky grew pale with the coming of dawn, I threw back the flap of hide covering the window and saw the dark stain across his chin and neck. He coughed again and I spotted the streak of red in the phlegm he spat into the bowl.
I swatted the blood moths to the floor and threw them into the fire. They popped and Shiromainu stirred at the sound, but he didn’t wake. I called out the door for a grandmother to come help.
Grandmother Monashir came waddling down the hall with the quickest steps her bowed knees allowed. I implored her to examine Nipa. “He needs a new salve for his chest. Something to draw out infection.” I swatted away the flood of new moths.
The old woman shook her head. “That’s what we’ve already done. It won’t be long now. The best thing you can do is make his passing easy for him.” She nodded to the dried green remnants on the mortar and pestle. “I will bring you more, ne?”
Shiromainu slipped in and out of consciousness. When he was alert, I convinced him to swallow a few mouthfuls of broth. His forehead was hotter than ever, but he shivered under his blankets. I was discreet in my killing of moths, lest he see them and know his end was near.