Shoukaittou:
Song of the Sword

Chapter 4

The Long Road

By:
Night~Mare

With many thinks going out to:

Akai_Kitsune

One step. Then another. Then another. Each step jarred her burned, blistered feet, but she kept on going, barely registering the pain. It had been forever since she’d last seen home. Forever since they’d ripped her out of her precious kimono and made her wear a man’s gi that fell to her knees. It was old, dirty and patched everywhere and it reeked of sake and wood smoke.

“Time to stop,” Snake-man said. The bound men in front of her shuffled to a stop, their narrow shoulders bowing with exhaustion as they waited for further instruction. She stopped too; looking at the dirt browned ankles of the adults.

“Sit over there,” Snake-man said. She followed the moving ankles, hoping that this time, she would be allowed to follow them. A big hand touched her shoulder and the strong scent of sake assaulted her senses. She didn’t even wince anymore. Even when the hand squeezed her shoulder and began to run lightly, up and down her arm.

“You know you’re not supposed to go with them, pretty girl,” Fat-man said. “They might do things to you. Naughty things…” The tone of his voice made it seem like naughty was something desirable. An icy feeling slipped down into her stomach. He won’t scare me, she thought. I won’t let him scare me. His other hand came to touch her other shoulder and he pulled her closer against him. His breath ruffled her hair and the smell of sake was even stronger. She squeezed her eyes shut tightly and tried to think of Shinta. She couldn't even remember his face anymore…just a pair of laughing violet eyes and bright red hair.

“What are you thinking of pretty girl?” Fat-man whispered his voice washing away the tentative image she held of her friend and replacing it with darkness…fear. There was the sound of shrieking metal and suddenly the Fat-man’s hands left her shoulders.

“Keep off her,” Dagger-man said smoothly. “She’s more valuable with her bloom intact. I’ve told you that before.”

“Very well, but surely you can see she needs to be taught,” Fat-man said, his voice whining.

“And she will be…but not by you. Unless of course you want to pay for her. Do you have the money?”

“No.” The word was spat out.

“Then stay away from her. Next time, the dagger will be the one to discipline you,” the Dagger-man said. The Fat-man uttered a curse and his feet slapped against the ground as he stomped off. Shoninne’s insides slowly unknotted. Yet again the Dagger-man had saved her. Each time though, it seemed he let the Fat-man get closer and closer.

“Go sit by the fire,” Dagger-man said, giving her a shove. Shoninne stumbled a bit and did as she was told. The fire had just been started and already fish were skewered above it. She lifted her eyes a little, watching the men without trying to make it obvious she was watching. The bound men she didn’t care about. Their dull eyes rarely ever settled on her and when they talked her name was never mentioned. It was the other men that scared her. There were five in all. The Snake-man, who was the only one to have a horse and seemed to be the leader. The Dagger-man, second in charge. The Fat-man, whose main job seemed to be to beat anyone he felt like whenever he wanted. And finally the two scouters. They usually rode ahead on their fat mules, found places to camp and got the food. This night, the scouters seemed worried.

“I’m telling you. It’s been too quiet,” one of them said to the Snake-man. “We’ve been out for days and haven’t run into any trouble. Usually we’ve had at least one skirmish by now.”

“Why question luck? You’re just superstitious,” the Snake-man said, sitting before the fire and lighting a long pipe.

“No. He’s right. There’s something strange on the wind,” the Dagger-man said. “Like the calm before a storm.”

“Bah. You ronin are all alike,” the Fat-man said, plopping down and setting a sake jug between his crossed legs. “You can smell storms. You can smell blood. You can do all that and my mother’s pig shit.”

“Isn’t she?” the second scouter said. Snake-man and the first scouter laughed. Fat-man scowled and took a long swig of sake. The liquid ran like a waterfall down his second chin and splattered on his clothes. Dagger-man said nothing, just stood, one hand on his knife, staring off into the distance.

Shoninne looked down again, drawing her knees up to her chest and closing her eyes. She lost herself in the world of remembering. Usually remembering made her cry, especially during the night when there was nothing but her thoughts. Then one day she’d looked down the road and realized she didn’t know how to get home anymore and the tears had just stopped. The sadness was still there though, aching in the pit of her stomach.

She was pulled from her thoughts when someone slapped her shoulder. She looked up and suddenly a portion of fish was shoved in her hands. It was still a little hot and she bounced it from hand and blew on it to cool it. The smell of the fish made her stomach growl and she ate it quickly, burning her tongue in the process. There usually wasn’t much to eat and she’d seen the Fat-man take food from the other slaves when the Snake-man wasn’t looking. When the fish was gone, she began to suck the crumbs off her fingers. The Snake-man suddenly laughed.

“That girl eats like you Hashi,” Snake-man said, speaking to Fat-man.

“Why not give her something to wash it down with?” Scouter one suggested, mean laughter in his voice. Shoninne inched from the campfire, trying to hide herself deeper in the shadows. But it was too late, they had noticed her. Snake-man laughed again and nodded.

“That’s a good idea,” he said, standing and plucking the jug from the Fat-man’s grip. In a moment, he

stood over her, the jug swinging from his fingers. Shoninne stared up at him, too frightened even to speak. “Do you want some? Eh?” he said, nudging her sharply with his foot when she didn’t respond. Shoninne gulped and shook her head from side to side. He crouched to her level, setting the jug in front of her.

“If you don’t…I’m going to feed you to Hashi.”

“There go our profits,” Scouter two said. The men laughed again. Shoninne took the jug with trembling fingers. She didn’t want too…but the thought of what the Fat-man would do to her was more frightening then whatever was in the jug. She lifted it, struggling a little with the weight and put it to her lips. The liquid rushed down into her mouth, too much, too fast. She was suddenly on her knees, choking, trying to get the foul tasting stuff out of her lungs. It was all dark and the men seemed to be laughing from far away. Rough hands slammed on her back. After what seemed like forever, she could breathe again and she lay on the ground, taking in deep gulps of air.

“Now that you’re done choking… How do you feel?” Snake-man asked, hauling her to her feet. Shoninne opened her eyes and stumbled. She felt so strange. Her head didn’t seem to be attached at all to her body and everything was spinning. The men were talking to her but she couldn’t make any sense out of what they were saying. The Snake-man shoved her forward and she stumbled toward the fire, her feet carrying her nearer and nearer and she couldn’t stop herself. The heat blasted her face and suddenly a rough force jerked her back and the world whooshed by as she fell to the ground. The next thing she knew, she was staring up at the night sky. The stars danced and whirled and wouldn’t stay still and suddenly her stomach revolted. Shoninne rolled herself onto her stomach and emptied her belly. When it was empty, her body still heaved, trying to get rid of what wasn’t there.

Finally, finally it stopped. She went onto her back, shutting her eyes tightly against the spinning stars, and was soon lost to the blackness.

---

It was nice outside. The sun was shining brightly and the heat was balanced pleasantly with a cool breeze that smelled faintly of salt. It would have been the perfect day…except…Shoninne wasn’t there. Shinta stared at the store, sitting cross-legged on the dusty road. The sun had risen not to long ago and he’d just finished all his chores. Now he sat and waited. Maybe, Shoninne would come out today. Maybe she would run from the house and fling herself at him, apologizing for being away so long. Then they would both run up to the stream, or play samurai in the forest or search for the mythical sword tree.

He hoped she came soon. The longer she was gone, the less time they had to play together. She had to come soon. Father didn’t like him coming down here anymore. He hadn’t said as much, but Shinta could tell by the way he frowned. Mother always started to cry when he left. He hated seeing Mother cry…but he had too. When Shoninne came out, Mother would be happy again. So she had to come out. Soon. Sometime. One day.

There was the sound of a door sliding back. Shinta’s heart jumped into his throat and he was on his feet before fully realizing it. She was here! Finally. A shadow came around the house but when it came into the light, Shinta’s heart sank. It was a boy. Taller, older and with a mean, pit covered face. The face soon broke into a scowl.

“Why are you always down here baka? We don’t want you hanging around,” San snarled. Shinta sat back on the ground and played with the hilt of his stick-sword.

“I’m waiting for Shoninne,” he said. San’s laugh made him wince.

“You’re so stupid. Shoninne’s gone. She’ll never come back.”

“Don’t say that,” Shinta growled, looking up. “It’s not true.”

“Yes it is. Mother sold her because she didn’t want her anymore. Maybe you’ll get lucky and your mother won’t want you anymore either.”

“Shut up!” Shinta snapped, getting to his feet. “Her mother does want her! All her family wants her! What they don’t want is you!”

“What do you know little boy? Even Father will be glad when he finds out she’s gone.”

“No he won’t!” Tears plopped on Shinta’s feet. The boy wiped his eyes viciously. There was no point in crying over lies. Shoninne wasn’t gone. Her family loved her. He loved her. She was not gone! He would just have to prove it…that was all. Shinta broke into a run, brushing past San, heading for the house.

“Hey! Where are you going you stupid brat?” the older boy snarled. Shinta ignored him, flung the door open to the house and rushed in. Shoninne’s mother stared at him wide-eyed and the twin sisters shrieked like startled birds and scattered to the other side of the room. Shinta skidded to a halt in front of a screen and peered behind it, knowing he’d see her sitting there, brooding.

Nothing. Two futons rolled up against the wall. No one. Nothing. It wasn’t fair. Shoninne was supposed to be here. This was her home. If she wasn’t with him she was supposed to be here.

“Get out of this house rude boy,” Shoninne’s mother snapped. Shinta backed from the room and forced his feet to take him outside. She wasn’t there. She wasn’t there. No matter how many times he woke up and sat in front of her house…she would never be there. She was gone. He was crying again and realized he’d never stopped. It was as if something inside him knew the truth all along. He’d promised to protect her. Promised… But she was gone. The men had taken her.

“See? She’s not there.” San’s harsh voice only made the tears flow faster. Shinta slowly looked up at the older boy, his eyes stopped as it came upon the sword-stick hanging from his waist.

“That’s not yours,” Shinta said, moving to take the sword-stick. San backed up and pulled the stick from his waist.

“No… I guess not. And since whatever piece of trash it belongs to is gone forever I’ll just throw it away.”

“Don’t. Give it to me. Please.”

“You have to come and get it,” San said. Shinta looked at San’s face. The boy was twelve. At least a head taller then him and much heavier…not to mention stronger. Shinta didn’t have a chance against him. He could only beg.

“Please?” he asked again, holding out his hand.

“No. I’ll just give it to someone who’s more deserving…like a stray dog or a flea.”

“Please. Let me have it,” Shinta said. Anger was flaring up inside him but he held it down. Yelling at San was only going to make it worse.

“Then again, maybe I’ll just break it.”

“No!” Shinta cried. San laughed, rested the point of the stick on the ground and began to lean against it. The wood creaked. Shinta’s heart jumped. Shoninne would never forgive him if he let her weapon be broken!

“San!” he said desperately.

“If you want it little boy, you’ll have to take it. I don’t see why you need it so badly anyway. It’s not like you’ll be able to give it to the unwanted little bitch.” Shinta’s eyes snapped up to meet San’s. A boiling pit of anger had dried up his sadness.

“Don’t call her that,” Shinta growled, clenching his hands into fists. San laughed.

“Shoninne’s an unwanted little bitch! Everyone hates her!”

“Stop it!” Shinta screamed. Before he quite knew what he was doing, he was flying at the older boy, hand pulling out his own stick sword from his belt. San seemed to move in slow motion. First his ugly, pitted face laughed, then he lifted Shoninne’s sword-stick. He’s tall and arrogant…he’s going to swing it down low near my head.

San did as expected. Shinta ducked under the swing, slid past him and smacked the older boy in the back of his legs. San howled and whirled around. He’s not thinking. He’s going to try to hit me one handed at his shoulder level. Shinta flung his sword-stick up to meet San’s, the older boy’s stick flew from his hand. Shinta arched the sword-stick down, cracking it into San’s stomach and when the boy doubled over, Shinta brought the sword-stick up horizontally. The sword-stick caught under San’s nose. The boy’s head snapped back. The next thing Shinta knew, he was standing over the fallen twelve-year-old, pressing the sword-stick hard against his throat. San’s nose was bleeding and he was clutching his side.

“Don’t you ever call Shoninne that again,” Shinta said, giving the sword-stick one last twist against San’s neck. It was for all the times he’d seen her with a black eye. All the times he’d seen San beat up on the twins when Iro-san was away. San glared up at him, dark blue eyes glittering with anger and a promise for revenge. Shinta was surprised to find he wasn’t scared. But then…why should he be scared of a fool?

Keeping his sword-stick out, he went to pick up Shoninne’s. It was lying on the ground, looking strangely lonely. He picked it up and held it to him. Some of her spirit was in this. So if he had it, part of her would be with him forever. Behind him, San yelled and he heard the sound of rushing feet. He reacted without truly thinking, swinging around and jabbing his sword-stick upward so San ran into it, the blunt end of the stick going right above his stomach. The boy fell back, groaning.

Shinta put both sword-sticks in his belt and started home, not bothering to look back. As long as Shoninne was gone, he would never come down here again. A part of him knew that she would be gone for a very long time…maybe even forever. Tears cooled his cheeks and he wondered if he would ever stop crying.

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