Arai did not slow his mount, not even after entering Hiyashi.
One day was the expected timespan of a trip from Norema to the Hosharan capital.
Arai planned to reach the court in eighteen hours.
That is, he planned it until his horse reared up in front of a massive, fallen tree.
Arai barely kept his seat. "Khur!" he nearly screamed.
No–his steed wouldn't be able to jump it. Arai gritted his teeth.
"Rakhai–"
"I didn't do that."
Arai froze in the act of scouting the nearby underbrush.
The rakhai was here.
Again.
Why?
"What do you want!" he shouted, not even bothering to aim his voice. His horse snorted uneasily, tossing its head.
"Nothing."
His eyebrows shot up. But that was all the voice deigned to say.
Now Arai nudged his horse off the path hesitantly and guided it around the trunk. He scrutinized it as they passed.
Rough. Splintered. Dysfunctional.
The tree had been old.
Biting his lip, Arai directed his mount back to the beaten trail.
Then he paused.
"Kishi Eishi?"
There was no answer, but Arai kept going anyway.
"Your country…needs your help."
The wind rustled through the leaves of the forest canopy.
A bird started calling, somewhere, far away.
But the girl did not answer him.
Scowling, Arai dug into his spurs and took off for Hoshara.
~~~
The resistance man's mare–Mai, he had called her–was thoroughly exhausted.
Himura Uno decided to take both his horses home for the rest of the day. He could survive a day of no work.
Now, in the stable-like addition to his house, he busily wiped down the mare.
Well. She was beautiful. She was also strong.
Just tired.
Himura sighed happily as he used his worn sleeve to wipe some of the sweat from the horse's head.
Life was good. Life was quiet–
"He lives here," someone said.
Outside the door.
Blinking, Himura jerked his hand away from the mare and spun around to face the doorway.
The soldiers?
Why were they here?
A shadow fell across the doorposts.
"Himura Uno? Are you here?"
"Huh," Himura grunted. "That I am."
His eyes widened as Mai's hoof thumped hard against the wooden floor.
A soldier's uniform thrust itself into view.
"That horse. Was it sold to you?"
"It's a she," Himura muttered.
"Pardon?"
Himura tilted his head to one side. "No, she wasn't sold to me. I traded for her." He forced a grin. "Isn't she beautiful?"
The other man's eyes narrowed into slits.
"I think we're going to have to ask you to come with us, Himura Uno."
Himura's face darkened momentarily.
"You what?"
The soldier put out a gloved hand.
"We need to talk to you about the man who traded horses with you."
Himura stumbled somewhat unwillingly into the daylight, only to find himself surrounded by four more soldiers from the village guardhouse.
"Hey, what's this?" he demanded.
Someone clapped him on the shoulder–roughly.
"Come on. Let's go."
"You've got nothing on me." Himura stuck out his jaw defiantly–and got shoved again.
"Tell that to the rashei," someone laughed.
"Who's going to water my horses?" the man demanded.
"We'll figure it out," the first soldier scowled. "Just get going."
~~~
"Kishi Eishi…"
Kishi froze as she listened.
The man knew her name? Just like the other one?
"...your country needs your help."
So.
He was resistance, then.
Kishi didn't move until after the man had galloped away.
He wouldn't stop until he was out of the forest. None of them ever did.
Kishi leaned her head against the main trunk of the tree she was perched in.
She was tired.
These couriers had no right to be galloping through her domain this early in the morning.
Well, at least she was awake now.
Muttering softly to herself, Kishi slipped down from the tree, hitting the ground with a soft thump. Her arrows rattled in their quiver, and she bit her lip as she crept back to the grove that was annoyingly close to the main trail.
Once there, Kishi sat down cross-legged and rummaged through her belongings for one of the rolls she had bought from Runa Zayasu. It was nearly stale now, but she still munched it determinedly. Stale bread was better than air.
Sometimes, anyway.
Her alert eyes followed a rabbit as it emerged from a nearby bush, glanced thoughtfully at her, and then moved a bit closer.
Kishi held still.
The rabbit ran away anyway. Scowling, Kishi finished the roll and grabbed an apple to top off her breakfast.
She'd been seeing a lot more rabbits lately. Soon it would be hunting season.
Kishi detested hunting season.
Well, she had no choice but to deal with it.
The apple didn't last her long. Moodily, Kishi dug a small hole with the hilt of her dagger and buried the core.
It wouldn't grow. They never had.
Huh.
Kishi glared at the two swords that still hung from their tree. She hadn't strapped them on today. And now their presence irritated her, almost as if they were waiting, accusing her.
Accusing her of what?
Kishi brushed off her dagger and thrust it into its small sheath, then stood up abruptly and walked over to the sword tree.
The straps felt rougher than she usually did. She buckled them across her chest anyway, then took a few steps before she reached up both hands and grasped the hilts of the blades.
Shing. They whispered their welcome to her. Just like always.
Kishi crossed them, testing steel against steel. The vibration crashed into her with the sound.
The rakhai smiled as she pulled the blades apart, ignoring the brief tingling in her wrists. She was used to it.
Her reflection smiled back at her.
Her hair.
Why hadn't she cut it yet?
Kishi shook her head as she sheathed the twin swords.
Hair didn't matter.
Not for a warrior whom no one would ever see.
Kishi kicked at the ashes from the night before. Her boots were tainted white.
Why was white, tainted?
Kishi didn't know.
This was stupid.
What was wrong with her?
Sighing, Kishi ran her hands through her hair. It reached past her waist now.
Her father had told her once how beautiful her mother was.
But Kishi had never known her. All she knew was that she looked like her–or she had.
Before she had become the rakhai.
More like, before childhood had deserted her.
Kishi sat down again, her teeth clamped together.
Then she heard it.
Voices.
In her forest.
Kishi closed her eyes, listening.
"That's my second. He's huge! Look!"
"I would've gotten him first if you hadn't elbowed me!"
The girl's eyes flickered open as she stood slowly and swept up her bow.
So, there were hunters here already.
It was time to show them who lived around here.
Or rather, who didn't.
Kishi pulled a branch over her supplies, then kicked the rest of the firepit ashes into the shrubbery. Then she stood still for a moment.
The voices were barely audible now.
Didn't matter.
The girl glanced up at the sword tree. No, it was too far.
Stepping out of her grove, she selected another, wide-branched oak and pulled herself up to the lowest set of branches. Then she crawled out and grabbed a limb from another tree.
"So, where's your rakhai now, Taro?"
Kishi swung for a beat longer than she had intended to.
Rakhai. Taro.
Those two words did not belong together in her dictionary.
Kishi wrapped her arms around the destination branch and jerked herself across to it.
A twig fell, disturbing some underbrush–and, more relevantly, a rabbit.
It dashed away, straight towards Kishi's grove.
Kishi's jaw dropped open beneath her mask as she reached for her bow.
"Hey, did you hear that?"
A young man's voice. Much closer now.
"I think it was another rabbit."
Taro Zayasu.
Kishi balanced herself carefully on the branch as she braced herself against the trunk and fitted an arrow to her bow.
"Obviously–but what scared it?"
The third voice–another one that Kishi didn't know.
There had better be only three of them.
Too bad they were young and harmless.
"I'm going to go look for it. Hey, hold Hanae for me, will you?"
Taro's face filtered into Kishi's mind.
So he was about to find her grove.
Her fingers tightened around the arrow as she drew out the bowstring to its full extent.
"No, you hold my reins. You already shot three–"
Her ears tense for movement and location, Kishi let fly.
A horse screamed. Someone else yelled. Not Taro.
"What was that!"
"It's…it's an arrow."
Kishi set her jaw grimly as she listened.
"Yeah, I can see that!"
"Who shot it?"
"It's…"
There was a distinct crunch of leaves as someone dismounted.
"It's homemade."
"The…the rakhai?"
"You said you didn't believe in the rakhai."
"Yeah, but…!"
Kishi notched another arrow to the bowstring and flexed her right hand lightly.
No use shouting at them. Boys this age were reckless.
Announcing presence would only make it worse.
"Is…someone shooting at us?"
"What does it look like!"
The rakhai's tongue touched her mask briefly as she tasted the air.
Musty. Dry.
Afraid.
"Do we…do we go back?" Whoever it was, was nearly crying out now. "Are we supposed to go back?"