Chasing the Wind
Chapter 3
Spring, 1234 - Dragon Lands
Two days later they left the mountains and headed south west. Harun was a little sorry to leave them. Perhaps, if he could stay longer he could find out more about his parents. But, Majid was leaving and it was the best chance he had to go.
Perhaps it’s for the best, Harun thought as he led his horse through the narrow mountain pass, there is still a lot that lies ahead of me.
It took them the better part of two weeks to clear the mountains, leading their horses much to the frustration of Majid. Once clear, once the mountains were behind him and before them the wide plains, Majid smiled for the first time in days.
“This is it,” he said, breathing in the fresh air deeply, “what we were born for. Even you, Harun.”
“I’m not so sure, Majid,” said Harun.
“Nonsense, it’s in your blood!” Majid declared. “We have time to see to your riding before I have my business with the Khan.”
“What’s wrong with my riding?” asked Harun warily.
“Nothing,” said Majid, in a perfectly serious tone. “Nothing if you don’t mind having a stick in the middle of your saddle while you sit on it. You need to feel, you need to move! You need to be free!”
He spurred his horse to life, taking off in a canter across the plains. Harun went after him, taking more time to match Majid’s speed. When he came alongside the Moto, he noticed how easy he moved with his horse. He was a lot more sensitive to the subtitles than Harun was.
Majid took a quick glance at Harun’s riding, then turned his attention back to what was a head. Then he took it up a pace, put his horse into a full gallop.
Let’s see how he handles it now, Majid thought.
Harun responded, putting his horse in a gallop too. But he was a bit nervous about riding this fast. He hadn’t since Kousuda had taken Arahime and him riding during a visit about a year ago, and then he was sure his uncle was holding back.
Together, the rode over the plains, side by side, the wind in their faces. Harun found himself smiling. It felt good, he felt…free. Like he could go on forever, soaring up to the clouds like the Ki-Rin of old.
They gradually came to a slope, they didn’t slacken but raced to the top, then galloping along the ridge of the hill and gradually coming to a stop.
Harun took a deep breath, he felt exhilarated. Why didn’t everyone do this? He felt so alive. Majid grinned at him.
“There’s nothing like it, is there?”
Harun nodded as he dismounted. He grabbed his water flask, took a drink and splashed a little on his face. “My uncle, he was an Ide,” said Harun, catching his breath. “He would take us riding, but nothing like this.”
“An Ide, they’re soft, like you,” said Majid with a laugh.
Majid dismounted, letting his horse graze and went through the saddlebag.
Harun took a look around at where they were. Not far from the foot of the hill where they stood was a village. Not far from there was Kyuden Tonbo, and further from there was the river which bordered…Lion lands, was it?
But the land bore scars from the conflict. Where the armies has been, and the forces of the Onyx. And he knew that this was nothing compared to what they would encounter once they entered Unicorn lands.
Majid held something in his hand, a tube as long as his forearm and appeared to be made of leather. He put it up to his eyes and led it there, turning his head slowly.
What is he doing? Harun caught himself starting, then quickly look away. Not quick enough, because Majid noticed. He handed it to Harun, who put it up to his eye as Majid had done.
“I…can see,” said Harun in astonishment. “The river, I know it is far but it looks closer.” He lowered it and looked down at it. “Is this one of exotic things you have brought from distant lands?”
Majid nodded. “It’s a spyglass,” he told him. “Very good for seeing across the plains. Particularly if across the plain is a force of Onyx.” He pointed towards the west. Harun looked through the spyglass again. “There, just beyond those mountains you can see are the lands of the Unicorn. We will be there two days from now.”
Harun looked through the spyglass, amazed at how it brought far things close. He then gently handed it back to Majid who put it back in his saddlebag. They then mounted and rode the rest of the way down the hill towards the village.
Keen Eyes Village was rather large, its position between Kyuden Tonbo and Kyuden Kitsuki made it of strategic importance in peace and war time.
It was all very orderly, as was Dragon custom. The houses well kept. There were a few sake houses, a couple of inns and merchant’s shops. They left their horses at the inn and had a meal. Harun noticed there were a variety of samurai there, from different clans all over the empire.
After this, and when the evening had settled in, Majid insisted on going around the village. Harun went with him, curious about what else there was to see. But when he saw the object of their excursion, Harun stopped.
They were outside the Dragon’s Eye. The geisha house.
When Majid noticed that Harun wasn’t with him, he turned around.
“You object?” said Majid. “You do remember my promise to show you a good time, don’t you?”
“You did, but…” Harun struggled to keep his On intact.
Majid laughed as he walked up to him. “What is it then? Do you have a girl back home?”
Harun nodded, looking down. “We aren’t betrothed, not yet. But we have an understanding. And…”He hesitated. “I don’t want to do anything that I wouldn’t feel comfortable telling her.”
“Then don’t then,” said Majid, putting a hand on Harun’s shoulder and leading him inside. “I know just the lady you need to speak to. She understand everything.”
Her name was Taiyo. She was older than Harun, patient and made him feel at ease. She made him tea, her movements soft and elegant in the ceremony, which he drank gratefully. Then, when she noted that he was not inclined to make conversation, she asked him questions about himself, his family, and what he hoped to see in his travels. Harun answered her, letting himself relax a bit more. After all, as Majid said, if nothing happened there would be nothing for him to tell.
Taiyo then took up her shamisen, she strummed a few notes and then began to play a song. It was good, then Harun that he had heard that song. The Promise of Heiwa. He He had heard Arahime play it at the Cherry Blossom Festival last year. He could still see her sitting there, beneath the sakura tree, the pink blossoms dropping onto her flowing white hair.
Then there was a scream. A wail. A running of feet. Harun quickly got to his feet. Taiyo dropped the shamisen and started to stand but Harun silently motioned for her to stay and quietly opened the door. Outside, in the hall, were bloody footprints that ran its length.
Harun let out a low groan and followed the footprints to where they had come from, taking care not to disturb them. This might have been foolish as Harun was unarmed, he had surrendered his daisho at the door of the geisha house as was the custom. But Harun had to know what had happened.
The footprints led to an empty room, and inside lay the body of a samurai lying in a pool of his own blood. A broken wakizashi embedded in his chest.
But what was most curious of all was his face, it was obscured by a black handprint.
Harun felt a hand on his shoulder, he startled but then he saw it was Majid. The Moto sized up the scene quickly.
“He’s a Lion, an Ikoma,” said Majid, pointing to the mons on the samurai’s discarded haori. “But this is the work of the Hand.” He spoke quietly, more to himself than to Harun.
“The Hand?” Harun asked.
Majid looked at him. “We need to leave, now.” His grip on Harun’s shoulder was firm as he ushered him out of the geisha house. His tone was hard and cold, he had no time for his usual jokes.
“But don’t we need to talk to someone about what happened?” Harun asked. “A magistrate?”
“We should,” said Majid, he grabbed his daisho and gave Harun his. “But we need to be gone before they arrive. The Kitsuki ask too many questions.”
They managed to slip out in the confusion of people coming to see what the commotion was. They ducked behind a few buildings to avoid crows. When they were out of sight, Harun grabbed Majid’s armed and stopped him.
“Tell me what is going on?” Harun demanded. “Who is the Hand? Did you have anything to do with this?”
“Do you think I did?” Majid demanded, staring Harun down.
Harun stared right back at him, Majid seemed genuine. “Fine,” he said. “But explain everything later.”
“You have my word,” promised Majid.
It wasn’t long until they were on their horses and riding off into the night. Harun rode close behind Majid, Lord Moon was in his waning stage and provided only a little light. A few miles out of the village, they stopped. Majid dismounted and motioned Harun to do the same.
“We should let the horses rest a little, they were not in the stable long,” Majid said, pacing back and forward. “But I promised to tell you everything.” He took a deep breath. “The Hand is called the Order of the Black Hand. They are a cult that have agents everywhere that strike without warning. They target anyone they see as blasphemers, that go against the will of heaven.”
“Blasphemers?” Harun asked.
“Don’t let that make you think they are a force for good,” said Majid. “When they act, it’s without compromise and for effect. That wasn’t just a murder, it was a message.”
“A message for whom?”
“Us, everyone who was there and will see it,” said Majid. “I heard one of their recruiters speak once, it wasn’t pretty.”
“So,” Harun said, watching Majid pace, “why did we have to leave so quickly then?
“I have business with the Khan that I can’t have them knowing about,” said Majid, calming a little and coming to a stop in his pacing. “I am sorry, but I cannot tell you what this is, Harun, not without my lord’s leave.” He looked around. “We need to keep moving. But there is someone I need to see, tonight. But I must be sure of our way through the dark.”
He put a hand on his horse’s back, closing his eyes and taking deep breaths. Harun looked at him curiously, wondering what he was doing. But it was over before Harun could look closer, Majid opened his eyes and mounted his horse.
“Let’s go!”
Harun mounted and they rode off. This time, Majid had a definite sense of direction. They silently rode, Harun wondering what else about his friend he didn’t know.
In the middle of the night in a small village about twenty miles away from Keen Eyes Strike, Majid rapped smartly on the door of a house. When there came no answer, he knocked again.
“Open up! We need to see the Jade Magistrate!” he shouted. “And I do know how late it is!”
The door was opened by a grumpy looking and dishevelled servant woman. She silently held out his hand for Majid’s chop.
“It’s fine, Amika,” said a voice from further within the house. Whoever it was carried a bright light, a tongue of fire that Harun had seen shugenja summon. It was a man, he didn’t seem angry, but there was something strange about him that Harun could see even in the dim light.
Majid made a quick bow. “Zetsunou, we need to speak. Now.”
The one called Zetsubou bowed to Majid. “Could this not have waited until the morning? And did you need to wake up the whole house?”
As if to prove his point, a girl appeared. She had the same strangeness about her that Zetsubou had. “What is it, father?” she asked. “Is there something wrong?”
“There’s nothing wrong, Koneko-chan,” said Zetsubou. “Go back to bed.” When she was gone, he turned to Majid. “Well?”
“The Hand is near,” said Majid. “We have just come from one of their victims. A Lion.”
Zetsubou looked concerned now. “I see, come in,” he said, looking at Harun and beckoning him forward as well.
He led them to a room at the back of the house and lit a few lamps. The light revealed a desk, a few storage chests, and a large table. It was also then that Harun got a good look at Zetsubou. And Zetsubou got a good look at Harun.
Harun had thought Zetsubou had an unusual appearance, but here in the light he had no idea how unsettling it would be. Zetsubou’s hair was red, red like fire, red like autumn leaves. It hung long and loose about his shoulders like a bright garment. There were also his eyes, gold like a lion’s. But kind, not fierce.
He’s a Kitsu, thought Harun. He had never seen one, but he had heard about them in stories.
Zetsubou regarded Harun with polite interest, until he saw the purple necklace Harun wore. And amethyst engraved with the mons of Unicorn and a Crab, joined together. His mind went back to years ago, in the mountains, in a yurt, when he had given it to a friend. Not for her, but for one that was yet to come.
Majid noticed none of this and began to make the introductions.
“Zetsubou, this is Kakita Harun,” he said. “We have travelled since Shiro Mirumoto, and since he has the blood of the Ki-Rin in him, I am showing him the ways of the Unicorn.” He turned to Harun. “This is Akodo Zetsubou, Jade Magistrate.”
Harun bowed low. “I am Honoured to meet you, Akodo-sama,” he said. But when he rose from his bow, he noticed something odd. Zetsubou was smiling at him, like a long lost friend returning. His eyes shone with kindness.
Majid was confused. “What’s this? Do you know him?”
Zetsubou shook his head. “No, but I know who he is.” He turned to Harun. “I knew your mother, Utaku Yamada, Harun-san. And I know who you are, because I gave her that myself.” He pointed to necklace. “I’ll explain everything in a moment. Sit down.”
Majid wand Harun sat at the table, both a little dazed from what they had heard. The servant brought tea, Zetsubou quickly wrote a note and sent her off with it. That done, he sat down with the others.
Majid drained his cup and put it down on the table. He looked between Zetsubou and Harun. He thought he was the one who had secrets, but then he was the one who was surprised.
“I was at Winter Court at Shiro Mirumoto during the last year of the peace,” said Zetsubou. “I met your mother then, and I was proud to call her my friend. As did my brother, Kibo.”
Harun frowned, remembering. “Akodo Kibo? I think I have met him.”
“Probably on your father Karasu’s command staff. He is retired now,” said Zetsubou. “What has Karasu told you about your mother?”
“He told me about the wedding, where she married my father Yasuki Nakura,” he said. “He said he trained her, and he told me about the duel.”
Zetsubou nodded, he looked sad. He looked at Majid. “You probably have heard about the duel.”
“The one that didn’t happen?” Majid asked. “Yes, it’s well-known.”
“What about what happened after?” Zetsubou asked. “Did he tell you why your mother gave you up?”
“He did,” Harun said, his voice quiet. “He said that she went to join the Obsidian Hand.”
Majid looked from to Zetsubou again. “What His mother is with the Leader of the Black Hand?”
Zetsubou nodded. “From what she told me at the time, she is there to make sure things are not worse.”
“Worse?” Majid spat. “You have seen what they have done! The brutal, cruel tortures and killings.” He jumped to his feet, towering over all of them. “My own sensei, Iuchi Abodan, was killed by the Obsidian Hand. That man raised me! He taught me everything I know. They cut off his hands, they cut out his tongue and pinned them on a board. Then they cut out his heart and replaced put his horse’s in its place. When I found him, the dogs and vultures were finishing him off.” He looked down at Harun, his eyes cold with fury. “Why didn’t you tell me this? I trusted you! I helped you! Why didn’t you tell me this if you know all along?”
Harun started to answer, but Zetsubou stopped him. “You’re being unfair, Majid,” he said. “How is Harun to blame for the actions of his mother? He hasn’t seen her since he was a baby. He was put away in safety so she could carry out this duty.”
“Duty? Duty?!” Majid clenched his hands into fists. “A duty that has her trailing blood and death from one end of Rokugan to the other?”
“Harun is just a boy, Majid,” said Zetsubou, his patience slowly giving out. “And you haven’t told him everything about yourself, have you?”
“Of course not, I…”
“Zetsubou?” A woman came into the room, she wore a faded green yukata. “I heard shouting, what’s going on?”
“Nikako-chan,” said Zetsubou, grateful for the distraction. He got to his feet. “You know Majid, but do you remember Yamada? This is Harun, her son. Harun, my wife Nikako,”
Harun bowed to her, Nikako gave him a small smile.
“Can you find a place to put Harun up for the night?” Zetsubou asked her. “Majid and I still have things to discuss.” She looked questioningly at her husband. “Later, I promise.”
Somewhat satisfied, Nikako led Harun away. Zetsubou slid closed the door behind them and they could hear the shouting resume. Harun felt a little bit like when he was a child and Akodo Ryouichi had ushered him out of his father’s war room.
Zetsubou might tell me more, Harun thought as he laid down on the futon in the room Nikako had brought him to. But he thought over what Majid had said about the Hand long into the night.
The next morning, Harun woke late and followed the sounds of the house to where people were gathered. The house looked different at night, many of the shutters were opened to let in the fresh air and the sounds of the outside. He came to the back of the house where children were playing in a large open room. Two boys and a girl, playing some sort of game on the tatami mats with wooden animals. It was so familiar, like home, he could have been back at Shiro Yogashi with his brothers and sisters.
The oldest was about twelve, another girl, she sat in seiza on the mat reading. She had red hair in braids and lion eyes like Zetsubou. She looked up when Harun came in and put the scroll down. She stood and bowed.
“I am Akodo Koneko, Kakita -sama,” she said, her golden eyes lowered. “Mother and father told me to let you know they will be in shortly and to please make yourself at home. Would you like anything to eat?”
“Don’t trouble yourself,” said Harun. “I can wait until they are here.”
Koneko looked up and smiled at him. There was something almost beautiful about her, how she stood out, the kindness in her eyes. They sat down together.
“Father was saying you are a duellist,” she said. “Are you like the Mirumoto? Mother took me to see them once, they made their blades spin around.”
“I’m a duellist, yes, but not like that,” Harun said to her. “The Kakita school is one blade, two strikes.”
“And can you do that?” Koneko asked.
He shook his head. “No, not yet. But I have seen the Masters of my school do it.” He looked at Koneko, the girl was possibly as sheltered as he had been at that age. “Tell me about yourself, Koneko, what training are you in?”
She smiled and blushed slightly. “Father is my sensei,” she said. “He is teaching me the ways of the Kitsu. He says I can soon accompany him in his duties as a Jade Magistrate.”
Harun nodded in approval. “That is a great honour,” he said. “No doubt you will see many things and many places.”
“What are your plans, Kakita-sama?” Koneko asked.
“I don’t really have any,” said Harun. “I am travelling with Majid, he is showing me the ways of the Unicorn. I plan to return home to Crane lands in the spring.”
Koneko looked sad. “So…you aren’t staying here long?”
Harun shook his head. “Majid wants to keep moving,” said Harun.
“You will come back here on your way home, will you?” She gave a small, hopeful, smile.
Harun looked down, unsure how to answer her. Her eyes looked into his, her breath soft, her cheeks slightly red from her blush.
The door opened and Koneko and Harun quickly moved apart. Koneko picked up her scroll and quickly left the room. Harun got to his feet. Zetsubou entered, looking more than a little frustrated. He brightened a little when he saw Harun.
“I must apologise for last night, Harun-san,” he said after they exchanged greetings.
“Akodo-sama, it is not your fault,” Harun said. “We cannot help being what we are.”
Zetsubou smiled. “You are like your mother, Harun, she said much the same to me once.” He indicated to Harun to sit at the table with him, from there they could watch the children. “Have you eaten?”
“I was waiting for you,” said Harun.
The servant woman provided rice and some pickled vegetables with some tea.
“Majid probably won’t be joining us for a while, I suspect,” said Zetsubou. “He’s gone riding, to cool off probably.”
“Has he...” Harun hesitated. “Changed his mind?”
“No, not yet,” said Zetsubou. “But he will. We have been working together for years, and there is no point in telling him he is wrong. He will see it, eventually. It’s just the Moto way. Ishiken think they know everything.”
“Ishiken?” Harun asked. “He’s a Void shugenja? But we sparred, at Shiro Mirumoto, I took him to be a bushi.”
“Majid is many things,” explained Zetsubou. “And none of them are what he appears to be. Now,” he said, pouring Harun another cup of tea. “Tell me about yourself, Harun. And it’s Zetsubou. Your mother was my friend, I hope I can be yours.”
Harun told him as they ate. About his family, his time at the Kakita Academy, Arahime, the Topaz Championship… They were finishing when one of the children came up to them. He looked about six, and had golden eyes like his father.
“Father, you said we could play samurai,” the boy said.
“I know, I did, Kibo-kun,” said Zetsubou. “I need to talk to Harun, perhaps he can when we are done.”
Harun smiled at the boy. “I think I can do that,” he said.
Later, Harun and Zetsubou walked in the garden. It reminded him, in a way of Shiro Mirumoto, but it was a little wilder, not as ordered.
“I know you are still wondering about last night,” said Zetsubou. “About your mother, the Obsidian Hand, the killings..”
“I was,” Harun said. “It’s all true, isn’t it?”
Zetsubou nodded. “It’s all true, and there’s more, a lot more, that I could tell you. But I think you want to know why, don’t you?”
Harun nodded.
“I’m not sure if I could tell you that. I struggle with it myself sometimes,” Zetsubou confessed. “But I can tell you about Yamada, from when I knew her. It might help. “He thought a long moment. “Yamada was a true shiotome, she had the compassion akin Shinjo and the honour of a true follower of Otaku. I never saw her in battle, but I had no reason to doubt her. But that wasn’t all she was.” He thought a moment, then continued. “She sought more, a deeper understanding in the roles we were assigned to play for the future. She sought hope, and wanted it for all of us. That we needed to be the change that saved Rokugan. Duty, above all.”
Harun considered this. Hadn’t he heard something similar from Karasu? And that was why his mother had given him up? “So, her duty is to be with the Obsidian Hand?”
“It is,” said Zetsubou. “Lord Moon is a jealous and harsh master, her being the instrument of mercy to balance his chosen vessel would be no easy task. And she serves, until Lady Sun chooses her agent and the Jade Hand appears.” He frowned. “Hopefully, it is soon, but Heaven moves in its own time.”
“My father said that she wanted to give me what was no longer hers to give,” said Harun. “Do you think that...” Harun hesitated. “Do you think that she cared anything for me?”
“Harun, of course she did!” Zetsubou said emphatically. “This duty, your father Nakura’s death, that changed her to give up all that she cared for. But don’t ever let that think she didn’t care at all. She had such compassion, such fire. And she loved your father very much.”
They could hear the sound of horse’s approaching, Majid was returning. Zetsubou was deep in thought.
“Harun, I want you to know that no matter what happens, I am very pleased to have met you,” said Zetsubou. “I wish you well in your travels, and may you find what it is that you need.”
Harun gave a low bow but said nothing further.
While Zetsubou talked with Majid, Harun kept his promise to play “samurai” with Zetsubou’s son Kibo. Harun figured the boy was about a year off being sent to the dojo.
He found the boy in the garden, and when Harun appeared Kibo ran off and then reappeared with two toy practice swords.
“Is it true what they say of the Kakita, Harun-sama?” Kibo asked eagerly. “That when you a Kakita draws, a lightning bolt strikes down their opponent?”
“Not quite,” said Harun with a laugh. “We can draw very fast, that’s why we call it lightning, like here.” He dropped to one knee and showed Kibo the silver stripe on the right side of the Kakita mon on his kamishino. “Thaty’s the lightning, from Kakita himself, the first duellist.”
Kibo tapped it with his toy sword. “I have the point!” he declared triumphantly.
“Oh, you do, do you?” teased Harun. He stood and raised his toy sword above his head. “Not if I catch you first?”
Kibo gave a squeal of laughter as Harun chased him around the garden. Harun laughed, this was like being back at the academy. He deliberately slowed his steps so Kibo could get away. Kibo then ran up to Harun, swinging his sword wildly. Harun deflected that with his, but let the second one through, going down with exaggerated death groans.
“So, you want to be a samurai, Kibo?” Harun asked.
“I want to be a mighty samurai, like my Uncle Kibo,” he said proudly. “He has killed many Onyx and won many battles fighting for the Emerald Champion. He says that when I am old enough, he will take me to the Akodo dojo in Lion lands where I can learn to fight like him.” He frowned. “Did he send you for me, Harun-sama? He hasn’t visited in a while.”
“if he had promised you, Kibo, then he will come,” said Harun. “A samurai’s word is his bond. Makoto, sincerity. It’s one of the tenets of bushido, the code a samurai lives by. That’s one of the things that you will learn at the Akodo dojo. How to act like a samurai, it’s not always fighting. My sensei said that a samurai must know when not to use his sword.”
“But wars are fought with swords,” Kibo objected.
“Yes, but peace is won with words,” said Harun.
He could see Zetsubou and Majid approach. Majid looked a little less confident than he usually did.
This should be interesting, Harun thought.
“Kibo-kun, go inside, find your mother,” said Zetsubou. When the boy had gone, Zetsubou turned to Majid.
Majid gave a bow, rather low but not too low. He cleared his throat. “Harun-san, I must apologise for how I spoke to you last night,” he said. “My words were ill-advised and ignorant, but that is no excuse. I hope you will bear no ill-will towards me.”
“I do not,” said Harun. “And given I was ignorant of much of it as well, I do not blame you for speaking so. I forgive you.”
The two shook hands.
“Now, he can talk like civilised men,” said Zetsubou. “You understand, Harun-san, that we cannot speak on what Majid’s business with the Unicorn is, but my guess is you may become involved.”
“What makes you say that?” Harun asked.
“Because, whom Majid calls the Khan, the Unicorn Clan Champion, knew your mother very well,” said Zetsubou. “Once Lord Moto Chinua gets wind of who you are, then he will no doubt want to see you. Then, perhaps, we can speak plainly.”
“Moto Chinua?” Harun asked. ‘I think I met him once, years ago. He acted as if he knew me, or knew who I was.”
“You didn’t say that,” Majid said.
“I didn’t remember until now,” Harun told him.
“So, I hope you will be our guests tonight before you go on your way,” said Zetsubou. He turned to Majid. “The children will no doubt pester you for stories.”
Majid laughed. “Then I must not disappoint them.”
The evening was easy and casual. All four of the children were there, along with Nikako. As promised, Majid told stories of his travels, some Harun had already heard but there were a few that he hadn’t. Koneko seemed to be watching Harun the whole time.
After the children went to bed, tea was served. Harun thought over what Zetsubou had told him about his mother. He was beginning to form some sort of picture of her. What she was like, why she gave him up.
But of his father he knew nothing. Nothing more than what Karasu had told him. He said this to Zetsubou, hoping for some answers.
Zetsubou sadly shook his head. “I’m afraid that I didn’t know him that well, Harun,” he said. “He wasn’t that active in court, and we moved in different circles.” He smiled. “But I think there is something I can tell you. I was at their wedding, and at the celebration afterwards.” He looked at Nikako, they smiled at each other, as if sharing a secret. “We both were. The memory is a little hazy, I still think the Unicorn throw the best parties.” Majid laughed at this and Zetsubou smiled at him. “But there is something I remember: seeing them together. They had chosen each other, they seemed to bring out the best qualities in each other. And all of this in such a time of war and shadow.”
Harun nodded. “Thank you,” he said.
They all left the next day, going separate ways. Zetsubou and Nikako took the children into the mountains, Harun and Majid going on to Unicorn lands.
And just as Majid had promised, two days later they crossed over the border into Unicorn lands. Before them were the vast plains that continued on and seemed to meet the sky.
Chapter 3
Spring, 1234 - Dragon Lands
Two days later they left the mountains and headed south west. Harun was a little sorry to leave them. Perhaps, if he could stay longer he could find out more about his parents. But, Majid was leaving and it was the best chance he had to go.
Perhaps it’s for the best, Harun thought as he led his horse through the narrow mountain pass, there is still a lot that lies ahead of me.
It took them the better part of two weeks to clear the mountains, leading their horses much to the frustration of Majid. Once clear, once the mountains were behind him and before them the wide plains, Majid smiled for the first time in days.
“This is it,” he said, breathing in the fresh air deeply, “what we were born for. Even you, Harun.”
“I’m not so sure, Majid,” said Harun.
“Nonsense, it’s in your blood!” Majid declared. “We have time to see to your riding before I have my business with the Khan.”
“What’s wrong with my riding?” asked Harun warily.
“Nothing,” said Majid, in a perfectly serious tone. “Nothing if you don’t mind having a stick in the middle of your saddle while you sit on it. You need to feel, you need to move! You need to be free!”
He spurred his horse to life, taking off in a canter across the plains. Harun went after him, taking more time to match Majid’s speed. When he came alongside the Moto, he noticed how easy he moved with his horse. He was a lot more sensitive to the subtitles than Harun was.
Majid took a quick glance at Harun’s riding, then turned his attention back to what was a head. Then he took it up a pace, put his horse into a full gallop.
Let’s see how he handles it now, Majid thought.
Harun responded, putting his horse in a gallop too. But he was a bit nervous about riding this fast. He hadn’t since Kousuda had taken Arahime and him riding during a visit about a year ago, and then he was sure his uncle was holding back.
Together, the rode over the plains, side by side, the wind in their faces. Harun found himself smiling. It felt good, he felt…free. Like he could go on forever, soaring up to the clouds like the Ki-Rin of old.
They gradually came to a slope, they didn’t slacken but raced to the top, then galloping along the ridge of the hill and gradually coming to a stop.
Harun took a deep breath, he felt exhilarated. Why didn’t everyone do this? He felt so alive. Majid grinned at him.
“There’s nothing like it, is there?”
Harun nodded as he dismounted. He grabbed his water flask, took a drink and splashed a little on his face. “My uncle, he was an Ide,” said Harun, catching his breath. “He would take us riding, but nothing like this.”
“An Ide, they’re soft, like you,” said Majid with a laugh.
Majid dismounted, letting his horse graze and went through the saddlebag.
Harun took a look around at where they were. Not far from the foot of the hill where they stood was a village. Not far from there was Kyuden Tonbo, and further from there was the river which bordered…Lion lands, was it?
But the land bore scars from the conflict. Where the armies has been, and the forces of the Onyx. And he knew that this was nothing compared to what they would encounter once they entered Unicorn lands.
Majid held something in his hand, a tube as long as his forearm and appeared to be made of leather. He put it up to his eyes and led it there, turning his head slowly.
What is he doing? Harun caught himself starting, then quickly look away. Not quick enough, because Majid noticed. He handed it to Harun, who put it up to his eye as Majid had done.
“I…can see,” said Harun in astonishment. “The river, I know it is far but it looks closer.” He lowered it and looked down at it. “Is this one of exotic things you have brought from distant lands?”
Majid nodded. “It’s a spyglass,” he told him. “Very good for seeing across the plains. Particularly if across the plain is a force of Onyx.” He pointed towards the west. Harun looked through the spyglass again. “There, just beyond those mountains you can see are the lands of the Unicorn. We will be there two days from now.”
Harun looked through the spyglass, amazed at how it brought far things close. He then gently handed it back to Majid who put it back in his saddlebag. They then mounted and rode the rest of the way down the hill towards the village.
Keen Eyes Village was rather large, its position between Kyuden Tonbo and Kyuden Kitsuki made it of strategic importance in peace and war time.
It was all very orderly, as was Dragon custom. The houses well kept. There were a few sake houses, a couple of inns and merchant’s shops. They left their horses at the inn and had a meal. Harun noticed there were a variety of samurai there, from different clans all over the empire.
After this, and when the evening had settled in, Majid insisted on going around the village. Harun went with him, curious about what else there was to see. But when he saw the object of their excursion, Harun stopped.
They were outside the Dragon’s Eye. The geisha house.
When Majid noticed that Harun wasn’t with him, he turned around.
“You object?” said Majid. “You do remember my promise to show you a good time, don’t you?”
“You did, but…” Harun struggled to keep his On intact.
Majid laughed as he walked up to him. “What is it then? Do you have a girl back home?”
Harun nodded, looking down. “We aren’t betrothed, not yet. But we have an understanding. And…”He hesitated. “I don’t want to do anything that I wouldn’t feel comfortable telling her.”
“Then don’t then,” said Majid, putting a hand on Harun’s shoulder and leading him inside. “I know just the lady you need to speak to. She understand everything.”
Her name was Taiyo. She was older than Harun, patient and made him feel at ease. She made him tea, her movements soft and elegant in the ceremony, which he drank gratefully. Then, when she noted that he was not inclined to make conversation, she asked him questions about himself, his family, and what he hoped to see in his travels. Harun answered her, letting himself relax a bit more. After all, as Majid said, if nothing happened there would be nothing for him to tell.
Taiyo then took up her shamisen, she strummed a few notes and then began to play a song. It was good, then Harun that he had heard that song. The Promise of Heiwa. He He had heard Arahime play it at the Cherry Blossom Festival last year. He could still see her sitting there, beneath the sakura tree, the pink blossoms dropping onto her flowing white hair.
Then there was a scream. A wail. A running of feet. Harun quickly got to his feet. Taiyo dropped the shamisen and started to stand but Harun silently motioned for her to stay and quietly opened the door. Outside, in the hall, were bloody footprints that ran its length.
Harun let out a low groan and followed the footprints to where they had come from, taking care not to disturb them. This might have been foolish as Harun was unarmed, he had surrendered his daisho at the door of the geisha house as was the custom. But Harun had to know what had happened.
The footprints led to an empty room, and inside lay the body of a samurai lying in a pool of his own blood. A broken wakizashi embedded in his chest.
But what was most curious of all was his face, it was obscured by a black handprint.
Harun felt a hand on his shoulder, he startled but then he saw it was Majid. The Moto sized up the scene quickly.
“He’s a Lion, an Ikoma,” said Majid, pointing to the mons on the samurai’s discarded haori. “But this is the work of the Hand.” He spoke quietly, more to himself than to Harun.
“The Hand?” Harun asked.
Majid looked at him. “We need to leave, now.” His grip on Harun’s shoulder was firm as he ushered him out of the geisha house. His tone was hard and cold, he had no time for his usual jokes.
“But don’t we need to talk to someone about what happened?” Harun asked. “A magistrate?”
“We should,” said Majid, he grabbed his daisho and gave Harun his. “But we need to be gone before they arrive. The Kitsuki ask too many questions.”
They managed to slip out in the confusion of people coming to see what the commotion was. They ducked behind a few buildings to avoid crows. When they were out of sight, Harun grabbed Majid’s armed and stopped him.
“Tell me what is going on?” Harun demanded. “Who is the Hand? Did you have anything to do with this?”
“Do you think I did?” Majid demanded, staring Harun down.
Harun stared right back at him, Majid seemed genuine. “Fine,” he said. “But explain everything later.”
“You have my word,” promised Majid.
It wasn’t long until they were on their horses and riding off into the night. Harun rode close behind Majid, Lord Moon was in his waning stage and provided only a little light. A few miles out of the village, they stopped. Majid dismounted and motioned Harun to do the same.
“We should let the horses rest a little, they were not in the stable long,” Majid said, pacing back and forward. “But I promised to tell you everything.” He took a deep breath. “The Hand is called the Order of the Black Hand. They are a cult that have agents everywhere that strike without warning. They target anyone they see as blasphemers, that go against the will of heaven.”
“Blasphemers?” Harun asked.
“Don’t let that make you think they are a force for good,” said Majid. “When they act, it’s without compromise and for effect. That wasn’t just a murder, it was a message.”
“A message for whom?”
“Us, everyone who was there and will see it,” said Majid. “I heard one of their recruiters speak once, it wasn’t pretty.”
“So,” Harun said, watching Majid pace, “why did we have to leave so quickly then?
“I have business with the Khan that I can’t have them knowing about,” said Majid, calming a little and coming to a stop in his pacing. “I am sorry, but I cannot tell you what this is, Harun, not without my lord’s leave.” He looked around. “We need to keep moving. But there is someone I need to see, tonight. But I must be sure of our way through the dark.”
He put a hand on his horse’s back, closing his eyes and taking deep breaths. Harun looked at him curiously, wondering what he was doing. But it was over before Harun could look closer, Majid opened his eyes and mounted his horse.
“Let’s go!”
Harun mounted and they rode off. This time, Majid had a definite sense of direction. They silently rode, Harun wondering what else about his friend he didn’t know.
In the middle of the night in a small village about twenty miles away from Keen Eyes Strike, Majid rapped smartly on the door of a house. When there came no answer, he knocked again.
“Open up! We need to see the Jade Magistrate!” he shouted. “And I do know how late it is!”
The door was opened by a grumpy looking and dishevelled servant woman. She silently held out his hand for Majid’s chop.
“It’s fine, Amika,” said a voice from further within the house. Whoever it was carried a bright light, a tongue of fire that Harun had seen shugenja summon. It was a man, he didn’t seem angry, but there was something strange about him that Harun could see even in the dim light.
Majid made a quick bow. “Zetsunou, we need to speak. Now.”
The one called Zetsubou bowed to Majid. “Could this not have waited until the morning? And did you need to wake up the whole house?”
As if to prove his point, a girl appeared. She had the same strangeness about her that Zetsubou had. “What is it, father?” she asked. “Is there something wrong?”
“There’s nothing wrong, Koneko-chan,” said Zetsubou. “Go back to bed.” When she was gone, he turned to Majid. “Well?”
“The Hand is near,” said Majid. “We have just come from one of their victims. A Lion.”
Zetsubou looked concerned now. “I see, come in,” he said, looking at Harun and beckoning him forward as well.
He led them to a room at the back of the house and lit a few lamps. The light revealed a desk, a few storage chests, and a large table. It was also then that Harun got a good look at Zetsubou. And Zetsubou got a good look at Harun.
Harun had thought Zetsubou had an unusual appearance, but here in the light he had no idea how unsettling it would be. Zetsubou’s hair was red, red like fire, red like autumn leaves. It hung long and loose about his shoulders like a bright garment. There were also his eyes, gold like a lion’s. But kind, not fierce.
He’s a Kitsu, thought Harun. He had never seen one, but he had heard about them in stories.
Zetsubou regarded Harun with polite interest, until he saw the purple necklace Harun wore. And amethyst engraved with the mons of Unicorn and a Crab, joined together. His mind went back to years ago, in the mountains, in a yurt, when he had given it to a friend. Not for her, but for one that was yet to come.
Majid noticed none of this and began to make the introductions.
“Zetsubou, this is Kakita Harun,” he said. “We have travelled since Shiro Mirumoto, and since he has the blood of the Ki-Rin in him, I am showing him the ways of the Unicorn.” He turned to Harun. “This is Akodo Zetsubou, Jade Magistrate.”
Harun bowed low. “I am Honoured to meet you, Akodo-sama,” he said. But when he rose from his bow, he noticed something odd. Zetsubou was smiling at him, like a long lost friend returning. His eyes shone with kindness.
Majid was confused. “What’s this? Do you know him?”
Zetsubou shook his head. “No, but I know who he is.” He turned to Harun. “I knew your mother, Utaku Yamada, Harun-san. And I know who you are, because I gave her that myself.” He pointed to necklace. “I’ll explain everything in a moment. Sit down.”
Majid wand Harun sat at the table, both a little dazed from what they had heard. The servant brought tea, Zetsubou quickly wrote a note and sent her off with it. That done, he sat down with the others.
Majid drained his cup and put it down on the table. He looked between Zetsubou and Harun. He thought he was the one who had secrets, but then he was the one who was surprised.
“I was at Winter Court at Shiro Mirumoto during the last year of the peace,” said Zetsubou. “I met your mother then, and I was proud to call her my friend. As did my brother, Kibo.”
Harun frowned, remembering. “Akodo Kibo? I think I have met him.”
“Probably on your father Karasu’s command staff. He is retired now,” said Zetsubou. “What has Karasu told you about your mother?”
“He told me about the wedding, where she married my father Yasuki Nakura,” he said. “He said he trained her, and he told me about the duel.”
Zetsubou nodded, he looked sad. He looked at Majid. “You probably have heard about the duel.”
“The one that didn’t happen?” Majid asked. “Yes, it’s well-known.”
“What about what happened after?” Zetsubou asked. “Did he tell you why your mother gave you up?”
“He did,” Harun said, his voice quiet. “He said that she went to join the Obsidian Hand.”
Majid looked from to Zetsubou again. “What His mother is with the Leader of the Black Hand?”
Zetsubou nodded. “From what she told me at the time, she is there to make sure things are not worse.”
“Worse?” Majid spat. “You have seen what they have done! The brutal, cruel tortures and killings.” He jumped to his feet, towering over all of them. “My own sensei, Iuchi Abodan, was killed by the Obsidian Hand. That man raised me! He taught me everything I know. They cut off his hands, they cut out his tongue and pinned them on a board. Then they cut out his heart and replaced put his horse’s in its place. When I found him, the dogs and vultures were finishing him off.” He looked down at Harun, his eyes cold with fury. “Why didn’t you tell me this? I trusted you! I helped you! Why didn’t you tell me this if you know all along?”
Harun started to answer, but Zetsubou stopped him. “You’re being unfair, Majid,” he said. “How is Harun to blame for the actions of his mother? He hasn’t seen her since he was a baby. He was put away in safety so she could carry out this duty.”
“Duty? Duty?!” Majid clenched his hands into fists. “A duty that has her trailing blood and death from one end of Rokugan to the other?”
“Harun is just a boy, Majid,” said Zetsubou, his patience slowly giving out. “And you haven’t told him everything about yourself, have you?”
“Of course not, I…”
“Zetsubou?” A woman came into the room, she wore a faded green yukata. “I heard shouting, what’s going on?”
“Nikako-chan,” said Zetsubou, grateful for the distraction. He got to his feet. “You know Majid, but do you remember Yamada? This is Harun, her son. Harun, my wife Nikako,”
Harun bowed to her, Nikako gave him a small smile.
“Can you find a place to put Harun up for the night?” Zetsubou asked her. “Majid and I still have things to discuss.” She looked questioningly at her husband. “Later, I promise.”
Somewhat satisfied, Nikako led Harun away. Zetsubou slid closed the door behind them and they could hear the shouting resume. Harun felt a little bit like when he was a child and Akodo Ryouichi had ushered him out of his father’s war room.
Zetsubou might tell me more, Harun thought as he laid down on the futon in the room Nikako had brought him to. But he thought over what Majid had said about the Hand long into the night.
The next morning, Harun woke late and followed the sounds of the house to where people were gathered. The house looked different at night, many of the shutters were opened to let in the fresh air and the sounds of the outside. He came to the back of the house where children were playing in a large open room. Two boys and a girl, playing some sort of game on the tatami mats with wooden animals. It was so familiar, like home, he could have been back at Shiro Yogashi with his brothers and sisters.
The oldest was about twelve, another girl, she sat in seiza on the mat reading. She had red hair in braids and lion eyes like Zetsubou. She looked up when Harun came in and put the scroll down. She stood and bowed.
“I am Akodo Koneko, Kakita -sama,” she said, her golden eyes lowered. “Mother and father told me to let you know they will be in shortly and to please make yourself at home. Would you like anything to eat?”
“Don’t trouble yourself,” said Harun. “I can wait until they are here.”
Koneko looked up and smiled at him. There was something almost beautiful about her, how she stood out, the kindness in her eyes. They sat down together.
“Father was saying you are a duellist,” she said. “Are you like the Mirumoto? Mother took me to see them once, they made their blades spin around.”
“I’m a duellist, yes, but not like that,” Harun said to her. “The Kakita school is one blade, two strikes.”
“And can you do that?” Koneko asked.
He shook his head. “No, not yet. But I have seen the Masters of my school do it.” He looked at Koneko, the girl was possibly as sheltered as he had been at that age. “Tell me about yourself, Koneko, what training are you in?”
She smiled and blushed slightly. “Father is my sensei,” she said. “He is teaching me the ways of the Kitsu. He says I can soon accompany him in his duties as a Jade Magistrate.”
Harun nodded in approval. “That is a great honour,” he said. “No doubt you will see many things and many places.”
“What are your plans, Kakita-sama?” Koneko asked.
“I don’t really have any,” said Harun. “I am travelling with Majid, he is showing me the ways of the Unicorn. I plan to return home to Crane lands in the spring.”
Koneko looked sad. “So…you aren’t staying here long?”
Harun shook his head. “Majid wants to keep moving,” said Harun.
“You will come back here on your way home, will you?” She gave a small, hopeful, smile.
Harun looked down, unsure how to answer her. Her eyes looked into his, her breath soft, her cheeks slightly red from her blush.
The door opened and Koneko and Harun quickly moved apart. Koneko picked up her scroll and quickly left the room. Harun got to his feet. Zetsubou entered, looking more than a little frustrated. He brightened a little when he saw Harun.
“I must apologise for last night, Harun-san,” he said after they exchanged greetings.
“Akodo-sama, it is not your fault,” Harun said. “We cannot help being what we are.”
Zetsubou smiled. “You are like your mother, Harun, she said much the same to me once.” He indicated to Harun to sit at the table with him, from there they could watch the children. “Have you eaten?”
“I was waiting for you,” said Harun.
The servant woman provided rice and some pickled vegetables with some tea.
“Majid probably won’t be joining us for a while, I suspect,” said Zetsubou. “He’s gone riding, to cool off probably.”
“Has he...” Harun hesitated. “Changed his mind?”
“No, not yet,” said Zetsubou. “But he will. We have been working together for years, and there is no point in telling him he is wrong. He will see it, eventually. It’s just the Moto way. Ishiken think they know everything.”
“Ishiken?” Harun asked. “He’s a Void shugenja? But we sparred, at Shiro Mirumoto, I took him to be a bushi.”
“Majid is many things,” explained Zetsubou. “And none of them are what he appears to be. Now,” he said, pouring Harun another cup of tea. “Tell me about yourself, Harun. And it’s Zetsubou. Your mother was my friend, I hope I can be yours.”
Harun told him as they ate. About his family, his time at the Kakita Academy, Arahime, the Topaz Championship… They were finishing when one of the children came up to them. He looked about six, and had golden eyes like his father.
“Father, you said we could play samurai,” the boy said.
“I know, I did, Kibo-kun,” said Zetsubou. “I need to talk to Harun, perhaps he can when we are done.”
Harun smiled at the boy. “I think I can do that,” he said.
Later, Harun and Zetsubou walked in the garden. It reminded him, in a way of Shiro Mirumoto, but it was a little wilder, not as ordered.
“I know you are still wondering about last night,” said Zetsubou. “About your mother, the Obsidian Hand, the killings..”
“I was,” Harun said. “It’s all true, isn’t it?”
Zetsubou nodded. “It’s all true, and there’s more, a lot more, that I could tell you. But I think you want to know why, don’t you?”
Harun nodded.
“I’m not sure if I could tell you that. I struggle with it myself sometimes,” Zetsubou confessed. “But I can tell you about Yamada, from when I knew her. It might help. “He thought a long moment. “Yamada was a true shiotome, she had the compassion akin Shinjo and the honour of a true follower of Otaku. I never saw her in battle, but I had no reason to doubt her. But that wasn’t all she was.” He thought a moment, then continued. “She sought more, a deeper understanding in the roles we were assigned to play for the future. She sought hope, and wanted it for all of us. That we needed to be the change that saved Rokugan. Duty, above all.”
Harun considered this. Hadn’t he heard something similar from Karasu? And that was why his mother had given him up? “So, her duty is to be with the Obsidian Hand?”
“It is,” said Zetsubou. “Lord Moon is a jealous and harsh master, her being the instrument of mercy to balance his chosen vessel would be no easy task. And she serves, until Lady Sun chooses her agent and the Jade Hand appears.” He frowned. “Hopefully, it is soon, but Heaven moves in its own time.”
“My father said that she wanted to give me what was no longer hers to give,” said Harun. “Do you think that...” Harun hesitated. “Do you think that she cared anything for me?”
“Harun, of course she did!” Zetsubou said emphatically. “This duty, your father Nakura’s death, that changed her to give up all that she cared for. But don’t ever let that think she didn’t care at all. She had such compassion, such fire. And she loved your father very much.”
They could hear the sound of horse’s approaching, Majid was returning. Zetsubou was deep in thought.
“Harun, I want you to know that no matter what happens, I am very pleased to have met you,” said Zetsubou. “I wish you well in your travels, and may you find what it is that you need.”
Harun gave a low bow but said nothing further.
While Zetsubou talked with Majid, Harun kept his promise to play “samurai” with Zetsubou’s son Kibo. Harun figured the boy was about a year off being sent to the dojo.
He found the boy in the garden, and when Harun appeared Kibo ran off and then reappeared with two toy practice swords.
“Is it true what they say of the Kakita, Harun-sama?” Kibo asked eagerly. “That when you a Kakita draws, a lightning bolt strikes down their opponent?”
“Not quite,” said Harun with a laugh. “We can draw very fast, that’s why we call it lightning, like here.” He dropped to one knee and showed Kibo the silver stripe on the right side of the Kakita mon on his kamishino. “Thaty’s the lightning, from Kakita himself, the first duellist.”
Kibo tapped it with his toy sword. “I have the point!” he declared triumphantly.
“Oh, you do, do you?” teased Harun. He stood and raised his toy sword above his head. “Not if I catch you first?”
Kibo gave a squeal of laughter as Harun chased him around the garden. Harun laughed, this was like being back at the academy. He deliberately slowed his steps so Kibo could get away. Kibo then ran up to Harun, swinging his sword wildly. Harun deflected that with his, but let the second one through, going down with exaggerated death groans.
“So, you want to be a samurai, Kibo?” Harun asked.
“I want to be a mighty samurai, like my Uncle Kibo,” he said proudly. “He has killed many Onyx and won many battles fighting for the Emerald Champion. He says that when I am old enough, he will take me to the Akodo dojo in Lion lands where I can learn to fight like him.” He frowned. “Did he send you for me, Harun-sama? He hasn’t visited in a while.”
“if he had promised you, Kibo, then he will come,” said Harun. “A samurai’s word is his bond. Makoto, sincerity. It’s one of the tenets of bushido, the code a samurai lives by. That’s one of the things that you will learn at the Akodo dojo. How to act like a samurai, it’s not always fighting. My sensei said that a samurai must know when not to use his sword.”
“But wars are fought with swords,” Kibo objected.
“Yes, but peace is won with words,” said Harun.
He could see Zetsubou and Majid approach. Majid looked a little less confident than he usually did.
This should be interesting, Harun thought.
“Kibo-kun, go inside, find your mother,” said Zetsubou. When the boy had gone, Zetsubou turned to Majid.
Majid gave a bow, rather low but not too low. He cleared his throat. “Harun-san, I must apologise for how I spoke to you last night,” he said. “My words were ill-advised and ignorant, but that is no excuse. I hope you will bear no ill-will towards me.”
“I do not,” said Harun. “And given I was ignorant of much of it as well, I do not blame you for speaking so. I forgive you.”
The two shook hands.
“Now, he can talk like civilised men,” said Zetsubou. “You understand, Harun-san, that we cannot speak on what Majid’s business with the Unicorn is, but my guess is you may become involved.”
“What makes you say that?” Harun asked.
“Because, whom Majid calls the Khan, the Unicorn Clan Champion, knew your mother very well,” said Zetsubou. “Once Lord Moto Chinua gets wind of who you are, then he will no doubt want to see you. Then, perhaps, we can speak plainly.”
“Moto Chinua?” Harun asked. ‘I think I met him once, years ago. He acted as if he knew me, or knew who I was.”
“You didn’t say that,” Majid said.
“I didn’t remember until now,” Harun told him.
“So, I hope you will be our guests tonight before you go on your way,” said Zetsubou. He turned to Majid. “The children will no doubt pester you for stories.”
Majid laughed. “Then I must not disappoint them.”
The evening was easy and casual. All four of the children were there, along with Nikako. As promised, Majid told stories of his travels, some Harun had already heard but there were a few that he hadn’t. Koneko seemed to be watching Harun the whole time.
After the children went to bed, tea was served. Harun thought over what Zetsubou had told him about his mother. He was beginning to form some sort of picture of her. What she was like, why she gave him up.
But of his father he knew nothing. Nothing more than what Karasu had told him. He said this to Zetsubou, hoping for some answers.
Zetsubou sadly shook his head. “I’m afraid that I didn’t know him that well, Harun,” he said. “He wasn’t that active in court, and we moved in different circles.” He smiled. “But I think there is something I can tell you. I was at their wedding, and at the celebration afterwards.” He looked at Nikako, they smiled at each other, as if sharing a secret. “We both were. The memory is a little hazy, I still think the Unicorn throw the best parties.” Majid laughed at this and Zetsubou smiled at him. “But there is something I remember: seeing them together. They had chosen each other, they seemed to bring out the best qualities in each other. And all of this in such a time of war and shadow.”
Harun nodded. “Thank you,” he said.
They all left the next day, going separate ways. Zetsubou and Nikako took the children into the mountains, Harun and Majid going on to Unicorn lands.
And just as Majid had promised, two days later they crossed over the border into Unicorn lands. Before them were the vast plains that continued on and seemed to meet the sky.