Vocabulaire:
1. Aeolus - Keeper of the winds in the Odyssey. He was able to tie them into a bag, as he did for the hero Odysseus/Ulysses.
2. Calends - The first of the three fixed points of a Roman (Himean) month. The days of the month were not named or given numbers, save for these three points. The Calends is always the first day of each month (e.g. the Calends of January would be January 1). Along with the other two fixed points (the Nones and the Ides), it was considered a sacred day. Note that dates were always reckoned backwards from the three fixed points. Note too that this story uses the modern months to spare readers the extra trouble of consulting the ancient calendar.
3. Clivus – A street on an incline. Rome had a great many of these as it was a hilly city. The word following it is the name of the street, e.g. clivus Argentarius, which is Argentarius Street.
4. Domina – Feminine of the Latin word "domine" or "dominus", i.e. "master ".
5. First Citizen – A more gender-inclusive term I have used in place of the Roman designation First Man. The First Man of Rome was primus inter pares (first among his equals), the man possessing the most clout, auctoritas, and dignitas of all men in Rome. Several famous examples of people who have been First Man of Rome at some point or other are Gaius Marius, Lucius Cornelius Sulla Felix, Gnaeus Pompeius Magnus (a bit contentious, since some might argue that he accorded himself the designation instead of being granted it by his peers, which was the accepted way), and Gaius Julius Caesar Dictator, all of whom were military legends.
6. Ides – See note above, for Calends. Unlike the Calends, the Ides varies. It is the 15th day of all "long months" and the 13th of the others. For example, the Ides of February would be February 13 in this story, since February is not a "long month", whereas the Ides of March is March 15, as March is a "long month".
7. Minim – A scarlet paint worn on their faces by triumphators (generals holding a triumph or victory procession) on the day of their parade. Not all triumphators chose to wear it.
8. Polyphemus – The Cyclops blinded by Ulysses/Odysseus in Homer's "The Odyssey." He swore to devour Ulysses but was eventually outsmarted by the latter before he could deliver on that promise. Ulysses blinded him.
9. Porticus – A large building with a very spacious, shared central courtyard, e.g. the Porticus Margaritaria of Rome, which was a famous commercial centre.
10. Rostra – Comes from the Latin word rostrum (singular form of 'rostra'), which was originally the reinforced beak of a war galley used to ram other ships. The Roman consul Gaius Maenius started a tradition when, after going to war with the Volsci, he removed the beaks/rostra of Volscian ships he had defeated and fixed them to the wall of the speaker's platform in the Well of the Comitia (see par. 3 of the actual text for a definition of this term). It was meant to mark the end of the Volsci as a rival power to Rome, and afterwards, other victorious admirals did the same, fixing so many rostra to the wall of the platform that it was literally crowded with them. The adornments prompted them to refer to the speaker's platform as the "rostra", i.e. "ships' beaks". This is from where we get the tradition of calling speaking podiums/platforms "rostra".
Inter Nos
par ethnewinter
Tomoe Marguerite sighed contentedly as she popped a date into her mouth. After swallowing the fruit, she brought a hand up to cover a weakly-stifled yawn. The light swaying motion of the palanquin was making her drowsy, and that would not do. She still had another matter to deal with, long as her day had been.
The senator had just come from a meeting with her banker, and was presently being borne out of the clivus Argentarius—or the street of finances, as it was sometimes called—by her slaves. Drawing the drapes of her palanquin aside, she settled a bored gaze on the buildings of Hime's most prominent brokers and financiers. Idly noting a dishevelled man being thrown bodily from an office by two others, she continued to look over the sights with an uninterested expression until a familiar, somewhat distant sound caught her notice. Leaning to one side, she peered ahead and saw what she had expected.
The Well of the Comitia. The site of all Plebeian and Popular Assemblies, with one of the former being held there at the very moment. Tomoe settled back in the lavish cushions of her seat as she thought of what was happening in that meeting. She placed another date in her mouth.
He should be convincing them by now, she assured herself, sucking on the fruit. I'm sure he will get approval soon. He has to, the elections are almost here.
A small stab of anxiety came to her mind at that, and she frowned at it.
We don't have any more time.
"Minë," she called, snapping her fingers outside the palanquin. "Tell them to go faster."
A dark face came into view. "But you could be jostled, Domina."
She sighed and pretended to explain as one would to a child: "Then go as fast as possible without jostling me."
"Yes, Domina."
Upon feeling the subsequent change in pace from her bearers, Tomoe fell back to meditating on the issue on her mind and being discussed in the Well of the Comitia at present—namely, Takeda Masashi's draft bill. Today would make it exactly one week since the tribune-of-the-plebs had first proposed it to the assembly, she realised. Seven days of discussion; seven days of delay. Not that the wait had been entirely unexpected.
The Senate is usually wary of bills like this, she reflected, the 'Traditionalists' coming to mind. Thus far, most of the hesitation over Takeda's proposal—which would permit curule candidature in absentia for all politicians outside of the city, as long as they fulfilled certain requirements—had been from the tribunes of the plebs known to be in the pay of the most conservative faction in Senate. It was argued by these that such a licence as the bill granted would give officials finishing their terms abroad an opportunity to evade the claws of the Bribery and Extortion Courts by being elected into high office, rendering them ineligible for arrest for yet another year. Given how many officials might well be facing arrest after their terms were over, such an evasion might prove significant.
Still, they should realise it's unlikely to work that way, Tomoe sighed to herself. If ever, few overseas officials would be able to avail of the opportunity, given how late it was in presenting itself. And even fewer of those overseas officials would manage to be elected, even if they were able to file for candidature. Takeda himself had been arguing this to those opposing his proposition. Of course, the inevitable result to that was the question: What then is the point of this bill?
It was a good thing Tomoe saw that one coming beforehand. Being the true originator of this bill, she had quickly foreseen that some people might question its purpose early on, given the strange circumstances surrounding its foreseeable utility. Thus, she had spread gossip about one of Takeda's long-time friends—a prefect in Sardinia, rather nearby—deciding belatedly to run for the praetorship. This friend, so the rumours now went, had someone ready to file his candidature as soon as Takeda's bill passed. That took care of the alleged motive very nicely indeed.
Now all she had to do was take care of the means. Aware that bribes would also be needed to convince the other tribunes of the plebs—and the senators from whom they took their cues—to allow the bill's passage, she had been soliciting funds for that purpose from a very generous source. Thus far, a good deal of money had changed hands already, but she wanted to be certain of their victory. Hence she was going to meet this source today, in case more gold would be needed.
It was a strange thing, though, being able to do so much without being noticed. Thus far, no one had linked her to the bill yet—and that was exactly how it should be. The only one actually aware of her involvement was Takeda, who met her every now and then to consult over their next actions or to pick up the bribe money. Which money he thought was from Tomoe, not from some other fount of funding.
"I wonder what he would say if he knew, though," she mumbled to herself with a sneer. Perhaps the other senator would object if that were the case. Yes, he would likely object. Takeda would have scruples if he knew where the money actually came from, and Tomoe did not care to deal with an episode of belatedly manifesting conscience. It was best to simply let him think the money they had been using was from her coffers. Money was always good money, no matter from where it came.
Looking out of the palanquin again, she saw that they were now passing the yawning Well. Just next to it she could see the looming edifice known as the Curia Hostilia, with several distant figures on its high steps probably observing the assembly below. They were too far away for her to make out any faces, but she cared little about that. The only face she cared to see there was absent, an sea away and stranded in a foreign land.
She recalled the last time they had seen each other, which had been just before the other woman left for the North. Tomoe had burst into her cousin's study, only to be dismayed by the sight of the fair-haired woman packing her things. She had demanded to know if the other woman was truly leaving.
"Of course," had been the matter-of-fact answer. "I must."
"But you can't!" she had pleaded. "You know what they're doing, Shizuru. This is—"
"Something I am duty-bound to do," Shizuru had interrupted. "So I shall."
"What if something happens to you?"
"Then I should consider myself grateful—the only people to whom something does not happen are the dead," the tall, achingly beautiful woman had smiled. "I am going. Everything is arranged and I have decided to go tomorrow."
Then, shutting one of the drawers of her desk with a firm knock: "That is final."
Tomoe, seeing that the other would not be swayed, had collapsed tiredly into one of the couches.
"You're really leaving," she said. "Again."
"I'm afraid so."
"To fight those—those hordes in the North. With that small army."
"Most likely, yes."
She had grimaced in exasperation: "This is too big an opponent to go against with only what you have. They'll swallow you up!"
Shizuru had chuckled at that.
"So Polyphemus promised to do with Ulysses, and he ended up blind and sore," she had replied. "Have you so little faith in me, Cousin?"
"It's not that..."
"Then let this be the end of the discussion," Shizuru had smiled. "Do not worry so much—you always tell me I have the fabled luck of Ulysses, after all. I shall be fine. Now please excuse me, I need to settle some other things by tonight."
Giving her a far-too-quick farewell kiss on the cheek, the other woman had then walked out of the room, thus unable to hear Tomoe's final words.
"Shizuru, it took Ulysses two decades to come back home."
Well, she had no intention of waiting two decades as well. She rubbed the cheek on which her cousin had kissed her that day long past, trying to bring back the feeling of those soft lips brushing her skin. Until now, she could still recall the warmth she had felt. Shizuru always did such things so kindly. Though sometimes her kindness had a distance to it as well.
Never mind that for now, she berated herself, shaking away that niggling feeling of sadness. You have to take care of one distance first before you can bridge the other.
Returning her focus to her surroundings, she apprehended that they had long passed the Well of the Comitia, and were now approaching her destination: the Porticus Margaritaria. An enormous rectangular building, it housed many of Hime's most expensive shops. Most of the wares to be found there were affordable only to the upper classes, which patronised the shops of the Porticus Margaritaria almost exclusively in certain cases. Given the social status of its clientele, it was natural for people shopping there to know each other either personally or by sheer repute. This was why Tomoe had decided to meet her funding source there, where they could pretend to have simply run into each other while actually conducting their business.
I'm glad he hasn't complained yet, she mused, mind producing an image of her source. No matter how much I've asked to have. He simply gives it without any qualms. Clearly the man was very rich, which she had known even before their acquaintance, but he was generous with his money as well, which she had not known until they began their talks. That was providential. He was a godsend, as far as that matter was concerned.
But it only made sense that he would be so helpful. He had an interest in the matter too.
As her palanquin neared the Porticus, Tomoe caught a flash of very fair hair exiting a carriage ahead of her. Perfect timing, she thought, recognising the person she was going to meet. She stuck her head out of the palanquin and called to him, feigning surprise.
"I say, Prince Nagi, what a surprise!"
The governor of Argus's private reception room was unusual in Hime, but perhaps not for the architectural styles favoured in the northern lands. It was a room on the first storey of her mansion, overlooking the western gardens of the estate. Shuttered doors opening to a wide, well-kept balcony kept it airy and fresh. There could be found trimmed box bushes and flowers, some vines poking out of the pots and weaving into the latticed railings to dangle above the heads of those passing beneath, on the ground floor. The doorway leading to the balcony had white drapes often left to hang loose, but such was not the case today. Due to the wild flapping caused by the winds, the governor had asked for the drapes to be drawn and tied.
"I'd ask for the winds to be drawn and tied into a bag, if I could," she remarked to Shizuru, whom she had invited to her reception room for lunch. They had just finished eating and were now reclined on lushly padded couches. "But I'm no Aeolus. Can't stop which way the wind's blowing."
"That could be a proverb in itself," the young general replied, washing her hands in a basin. She motioned to her bodyguard, who was sitting beside her, to do the same. "As Fate or the winds would have it, we are all stranded here momentarily, bereft of knowledge as to what is happening in more southern parts of Our Sea."
"It makes me anxious, I tell you," the governor returned. "Do you really have nothing else to tell me about Hime? I know you've been away from there for about four months now, but I've been away for years! I'd like to know if there's anything else I should know about that my letters from home don't tell."
"It seems to me you know just about everything pertinent," Shizuru replied, following with a courteously inquisitive look. "If I may be so bold as to ask, Midori-han, do any of your former pupils write to you? The ones residing in Hime, that is."
"Some. Chie-chan does often, but she can't now seeing as she's right here."
"I see," Shizuru murmured. She paused to dry her hands on a piece of cloth, which she then passed to the girl beside her. When she looked back up at the older woman, there was an apologetic smile on her lips. "Please forgive me for having neglected to do—"
"Oh, don't be ridiculous!" the redhead interrupted good-naturedly. "I know you've been busy ever since your first run in the legions, Shizuru-chan. Besides, you're not the type to write long letters about the latest scandal and chit-chat, so you probably wouldn't have been able to satisfy my hunger for that sort of thing."
She made a face.
"No, you can keep your meticulously politic, discreetly worded letters. Chie sends entire memoirs, anyway, and there are some things in them that would be enough to light a fire under each Himean senator's arse. Juicy and with a hefty sprinkling of spice!"
The younger woman let slip a giggle.
"There are some others too. The more regular ones would be—let me see now," She pondered it for a second. "Mai-chan writes to me and so does Akane. How is she doing, by the way?"
"The last I heard while leaving the city was that Kurauchi-han's suit had been accepted by her family."
"So you don't know any more than I do." Midori snapped her fingers. "Right! One of my old friends last wrote that she was staying in Hime for a while. Still there, I should think. Athenian, but half-Himean by parentage. Smart and snappy. Her name's Youko. You know her?"
The younger woman lifted her eyebrows: "Why, yes, I do. She was the most esteemed practitioner of medicine in the city when I left."
"That's the one—and she should be!" the governor declared, following with a quaff of her wine. "Great at what she does, Youko. A regular Hippocrates. I met her in Egypt, actually."
"Egypt?"
"I was there to see the inscriptions on their pyramids. She was there to learn more about their medicine." She pretended a childish moue of distaste. "It made me shiver, at first, what with the things those physician-priests she studied under had in their kits. Scorpions, spiders, all sorts of crawlies! It looked to me like they were trying to kill their patients, not keep them alive."
Shizuru laughed.
"But they're actually pretty good at what they do," Midori continued. "To be fair."
"Egypt is quite an advanced nation. Perhaps not so much in society or politics now, but they are when it comes to technology and learning."
"In some ways, more so than we are," was the reply. "But you'd like to change that, hm, Shizuru-chan?"
The rusty eyes peeking at her from above the rim of a goblet smiled.
"I hope that does not mean you think I would like to retrograde Egypt," Shizuru said after a sip.
Midori scoffed.
"Oh, you know what it means," she said, feigning a very slight glower. "And you know that fickle lot of people pulling the pharaohs' tails in Alexandria can do all the retrograding all by themselves! This is why it's always been hard to talk to you, Shizuru. You have an awful habit of putting words into other people's mouths. You do agree, Natsuki-chan?"
Natsuki gave the query a moment's thought and ended with a conciliatory nod. Shizuru lifted an eyebrow pointedly at the youngest woman in the room, trying to keep her lips from betraying her amusement at this answer. The girl pretended to ignore her. Shizuru saw the now-familiar sparkle of mischief in those green eyes, however.
"Now even my faithful bodyguard has mutinied," she frowned to the governor. "Shame on you for inciting this defection, Midori-han."
"Shame on you for teasing all of us too much," the governor retorted. "I was only asking about your plans for Hime's advancement when you brought up talk about possibly impoverishing Egypt. A grand task that would be! Well? Are you going to answer me or shall I try to wrangle it out of you?"
Shizuru leaned back into the couch, folding her hands over crossed legs.
"Well now," she began. "I cannot do much yet, to be honest. I am only a senator at present."
The olivine eyes were focused on her: "But that will change soon, yes?"
"Eventually."
"You've served as a quaestor already, as well as an aedile," Midori stated, tapping a finger on her own leg. "So the next office will be praetor. When do you intend to run?"
"When possible."
"Vague, but fine." The older woman shifted in her seat. "And after, you'll be going on to the consulship. Promise me you'll remember me when you get there and let me have access to all those dusty storerooms those stodgy Traditionalists won't let me into."
"Gladly. Though you make my success sound a foregone conclusion, Midori-han."
"Isn't it?"
Shizuru said nothing, merely smiling at her.
"You'll get to the top," the governor said. "You've always been sure of it yourself, so don't pretend to be unsure now. Isn't that your goal, after all? To become First Citizen of Hime, as your father would have been had the gods only granted him longer life?"
The smile changed, a touch of solemnity in it now.
"You still recall that, Midori-sensei," came the lilting words, their speaker seemingly unmindful of having slipped into that old honorific for her tutor instead of that for a peer. "But then, you remember past history best of all."
The redheaded woman nodded, sitting up to look her squarely in the eye: "To be First Citizen of Hime, clout personified. If they don't want to listen to you now, they will have to listen to you after that."
"And resent me for it."
"Every athlete resents the one who beats him to the finish line."
Shizuru let loose a short laugh: "I remember from whom that metaphor comes."
The older woman nodded, setting long red tresses waving over her back.
"I still remember the way you said it that day," she recounted, mindful of the dark-haired girl listening quietly to them but trying not to let on that she was listening. "It was a few days before you had to leave for your first campaign. Anyone else might have thought you were calm, but you weren't calm, Shizuru. You were intense."
Shizuru listened as the other woman went on with the reminiscence.
"I told you—I remember this clearly—not to go leaping into the field and to keep yourself safe," Midori went on. "And you looked at me with that face that practically said you were going to, regardless, and said..."
"That some other sprinter would beat me to First Citizen if I took no leaps along the track," Shizuru finished with a smile. "Yes, I remember."
"You should." Midori propped an elbow on her thigh, letting her chin rest on one hand as she bent forward. "You said it with such conviction."
"Something easy to do. Every politician aspires to become First Citizen."
"Not true. They dream about it, not aspire for it. And only a few of those who do aspire for it have what it takes to make the title," Midori replied positively. "You, on the other hand, have what it takes—the ancestors, the wealth, the talent. Don't you dare forget that. I'm waiting for the day you reach that goal. Unless you've already changed your mind?"
A sharp glint came to Shizuru's eyes.
"I should think not," was the firm response.
Midori smiled.
"Good," she replied, falling back into the cushions of her seat. "I'd hate to think they've been giving you all that trouble back home for nothing."
At Shizuru's glance, she went on: "Hah! I've heard all about it. The Traditionalists have been rounding on you like dogs at a fresh piece of meat."
Shizuru smirked and answered, mockingly, "And with so many other pieces of meat lying out there, why is it always I that they must single out, one wonders?"
Midori snorted at the complaint.
"Because you're too tall, too beautiful, and too successful for your own good," she declared, drawing the other's laughter. Casting a glance at the mirthful young woman, she added something else to her evaluation: "And you're too arrogant."
"It is to be expected, if people praise me to my face as much as you just have," Shizuru managed in between chuckles. She turned a smile to the governor. "Do you really think me arrogant, Midori-han?"
"No?" was the grinning rejoinder. "So you deny it?"
"Would it be safer to do so than otherwise?"
The older woman laughed: "I got you, didn't I?"
"I can only surrender."
"Well, you can't be too arrogant, anyway, if you can still admit defeat," the other observed. "And I'll tell you what it is that makes you arrogant. It's your deuced self-assurance and how it shows all the time."
"In that case, might I plead that assurance is not equal to arrogance?"
"Of course it isn't, but that's not what most people think." Midori smiled. "Do you remember? When I was mentoring you in your history studies, you would take your lessons at my house sometimes. I'd wait in the study, and when you'd come into the room, you looked like you should be the one to own it. I say it and I'm the one who actually owns that room. No, no..." She shook her head before Shizuru could get out a word of protest. "You did. You didn't walk in looking like you owned the room, but like you deserved to."
A meaningful pause.
"Sometimes you even look like you deserve to own Hime."
Quirking her brows at the younger woman, she lifted her cup from the table and pretended to toast to her, still talking.
"Too much poise, Shizuru-chan, and too effortless by half," she said cheerfully. Her pleasant, still-youthful features crinkled into a smile. "Too much assurance. People see it as arrogance because they don't think you have the right to arrogate such confidence to yourself. Well, our people have always been wary of fellows who look like they deserve to be king or queen, ever since the founding of our Republic. That self-important bearing all aristocrats have rankles them."
Shizuru conceded with a bow of her head.
"And you?" she asked.
"Oh, I love it!" Midori grinned widely. "Fact, I can't wait for you to rankle them even more when you get to where you're heading."
A laugh.
"I suppose that might be something to look forward to, wherever that would be," Shizuru said.
The governor made a sound of amusement, stopping to empty her goblet yet again. The servant waiting at her back rushed forward to refill it and Shizuru found herself noting that this was the fourth time the other woman had drained her cup. The wine was watered, but even so, the amount of liquor the woman could consume easily always amazed her.
"Speaking of things to look forward to, Shizuru-chan," the older woman said suddenly. "Your birthday is coming up. Since you're actually not going to be right smack in the middle of a war or big mission during it for once, I assume you'll take time to give us some proper festivities. What have you planned?"
There were a few moments of silence as the governor took another sip of her newly-poured wine. After time passed and she had still received no answer, Midori turned her head to Shizuru's direction—only to find a pair of crimson eyes opened widely her way. After taking a moment to ascertain the wonder in their depths, she erupted with a loud guffaw.
"Ecastor!" she hooted, slapping a thigh. "You, Shizuru-chan? The girl who committed the Founding History to memory in record time? You forgot your own birthday?"
"I had grown so used to being too busy to celebrate it."
"So much for being said to have a prodigious memory!"
Shizuru waved a hand as if to bat away Midori's jabs. Her other hand covered her eyes in a gesture of shame.
"It simply slipped my mind," she said, laughing along with the other woman. "Good heavens, how could I have forgotten it so completely? No doubt the army is expecting me to put on something more flamboyant than the usual dinner feast I give them."
Turning to her bodyguard, who had been looking at her with shining eyes ever since Midori asked the query, she provided an explanation.
"My birthday is thirteen days before the Calends of January, Natsuki," she said, before suddenly halting to give the Otomeian a sharp glance. "Oh! When is yours, by the way? You never told me."
Natsuki paused at that question, seeming to be working out something. Both Himeans realised she had been converting her birth date into the Himean calendar when she answered, very quietly, that hers was on the Ides of August. Midori and Shizuru made small exclamations of surprise.
"That's a good day," Midori informed the girl. "The Ides are sacred to Jupiter Optimus Maximus, the great god himself."
"That is true, Natsuki," Shizuru said. "Did you know that?"
Natsuki shook her head, intrigued.
"Well, there you have it," the governor said benevolently, with a swig of her liquor. "You were born on a good day, Dear Girl."
"Perhaps it was a good day because she was born on it," Shizuru ventured, bringing a smile to Midori's countenance and a blush to Natsuki's.
"Couldn't have put it better myself," the governor followed, after a while of joining her former pupil in silently enjoying their other companion's embarrassment. "So I'm guessing you two hadn't met yet, last birthday you had, Natsuki-chan?"
It was Shizuru who answered, and regret tainted her voice.
"Actually, we should have by that time," she admitted, casting an apologetic glance at the girl. "Forgive me, Natsuki. I had no idea—"
The girl had a hand up, shaking her head as if to say that it was of little consequence.
"But I was not able to give you a present, or greet you, at the very least," Shizuru said. "I do wish you had told me."
The girl only shrugged again. The governor looked at both of them, from one to the other.
"Here's an idea," she proposed, drawing their attention to her. "Get her a gift later, Shizuru-chan. What else is my province famous for if not for what you can buy in it? You'll find things here that you're not likely to see elsewhere."
"You are right, of course," Shizuru replied thoughtfully. She turned a bright smile to the Otomeian. "Let us do that later, Natsuki. And we can celebrate today, too, to make up for it if you wish. Any way you would like. Well?"
"Capital idea! Would you like a party, Natsuki-chan? I throw smashing parties, I tell you. How about it?" Midori said to the girl, who looked a little startled by the abrupt offers thrown to her. After a few seconds of staring at them, she made as if to speak. No sound came out, however, and she snapped her mouth shut again, staring resolutely at the floor with cheeks aflame.
The older women laughed at the curious reaction.
"I wish it was my birthday coming up—I'd ask you for her!" Midori sniggered, winking at Shizuru. "But she's too adorable to give up, eh?"
Shizuru grinned, knowing she was only being teased.
"I admit I would not be inclined to entertaining the notion," she answered.
"That's too bad. But yes, I do see why you'd not give up Natsuki-chan to me. She's like a sweet little cub you want to keep to yourself, clawed but cute," she finished, drawing out the last word with particular emphasis. She paused immediately after it, however, with an odd expression crossing her face. "Oh Juno, that's... a new shade of red."
Turning to look at what seemed to be amusing Midori, Shizuru found she had to pull her lips in to stay the laugh. Natsuki's colour had gone so high that she looked like a Himean triumphator, face painted with the scarlet-coloured minim parading generals wore. Sending the choked governor a similarly choked glance, she quickly brought up another subject. She was afraid Natsuki would burst a major blood vessel if she let this continue.
"On the subject of cubs," she said, clearing her throat with a feeble cough, "you mentioned earlier that you would like to see our panther cub more closely, Midori-han, did you not?"
Midori nodded, the muscles of her cheeks still quivering perilously.
"Yes," she got out. "That I did."
"We had intended to show you to her, but we ended up leaving her with one of my servants before coming here. She had to be fed, you see."
"Oh, of course." The governor's face changed, the mirth wiped away by something else. She met Shizuru's eyes, her own conveying a silent message. "Say, it's been some time since you got here, so she'd be done eating, don't you think? Would you mind asking Natsuki-chan if she could fetch the animal now? I'd really love to see it."
The tawny-haired woman did not even take a moment to think about it. She turned to her bodyguard, who was eyeing the two of them carefully. The girl was not blind and definitely no fool.
"Natsuki," Shizuru said to the girl anyway. "Would you please go and get Shizuki? I shall be here with Midori-han, so there is no need to fear for my safety. Besides, I would not like Shizuki to be too lonely without us."
The girl blinked once, the curling dark lashes meeting over her eyes. Presently, she nodded and rose to her feet.
"Don't worry, Natsuki-chan," the governor of Argus said. "Shizuru here is safe with me. What you should worry about is yourself, walking out on those streets unaccompanied. You're liable to have half the men of my city trailing after you, to say nothing of the women."
The Otomeian blushed furiously again, looking away stiffly and beginning to walk to the door. Shizuru stopped her with a call just as she reached it, however.
"If that happens, Natsuki," Shizuru said, "you have my permission to use your weapon."
Thus the girl left to the sound of a cackling Midori, who sent her own servant away as well. The redheaded woman peered at her only remaining companion, who sat smiling at the floor.
"That was excellent, Shizuru-chan," she remarked, only succeeding in eliciting a faint twinkle from the burgundy eyes. "If I didn't know better, I'd have even said you were serious when you said that."
Shizuru said nothing, trying to resist the urge to go after her bodyguard: she had been serious.
"But, yes, she's quite a find," Midori observed, obviously referring to Natsuki. "She's very devoted to you."
The younger woman confirmed it: "Natsuki is a faithful bodyguard and attendant."
"And as a companion?"
"One cannot ask for better."
"I believe you." Midori sent her a penetrating look before saying in a kind voice: "Tell me, how long have we known each other now?"
Shizuru tipped her head and looked at the brown-flecked, grape-green eyes. "Long enough for you to speak frankly of what it is that has compelled you to send our companions away so that we would be alone, Midori-sensei."
The governor grinned.
"It was obvious, wasn't it?" she said. "All right, I suppose I deserved the 'sensei' there."
Shizuru smiled and said nothing. Midori drew a breath.
"I'll get to the point, then," she started. "And I won't mince facts. Or would you like me to?"
"Please be as forthright as you can," the other invited.
"Don't forget you said that," Midori replied, a parody of threat in her voice. "I'll tell you what I know, then. For starters, Shizuru-chan, I know you're sleeping with that girl, despite the fact that you still don't go about advertising it the way some would. And I don't mean just sleeping in the same room. That's the first thing I need to get off my chest and it has to do with everything else I'm going on to say. Continue?"
The answer came quickly: "Continue."
The goblet was set down almost like a flag of truce being lowered.
"What I also know is that practically everyone in your army knows about your relationship too because—this is what some of the soldiers said—even a blind man could see that much," Midori said. "I'm not blind, nor am I senile, and I clearly remember seeing the two of you out there in the gardens two days ago. Don't think I'm some pervert spying on you. My window happens to overlook that place and it's an accident I saw the pair of you at all. Fair?"
"Quite fair," Shizuru said, smile unmoving.
"Now I wouldn't even meddle with this," Midori continued, with a flash of a grin. "I'd even congratulate you, normally, because you've been going too long without being involved with anyone and this may be just what you need at this time. Besides, the girl's lovely and I'd have snapped her up if she'd given me a second look and you hadn't snapped her up yourself, which is probably the same thing other people would say as far as her looks are concerned. She's no embarrassment there."
"I cannot argue with that."
"Then this is where I hope you will argue," Midori said, adopting a grim expression so abruptly it might have been considered droll by her companion had it not been for the circumstances. "I've been watching the way you look at her, Shizuru-chan, and it's not normal. Not the sort of thing I'd have expected. Not from you, anyway."
The piercing red eyes trained on hers, gleaming but still conveying no malice.
"Dare I ask you to elaborate, Midori-han?" the younger woman said, sounding nothing other than curious. "What do you mean by that?"
Midori sighed a reluctant sound. Amusing, since she was the one who had instigated this interrogation.
"I'll be frank in answering that, just as you asked me to be," she said with a slight thinning of her eyes. "What I mean is that every time I see you with her, you don't look like you're in lust with the girl, which is what I'd have expected. It would certainly have been more normal!"
"No?"
"No. Shizuru, you look like you're in love with her."
As Midori had been admiring the younger woman's masterly self-control thus far, she was startled by the sudden crack her last words seemed to produce. It was only for a moment, but she had seen it, small as it had been. And being no novice at siege, she recognised the advantage and battered against it.
"Well, are you or are you not?" she asked, scrutinising the finely-hewn features of the younger senator. "Or let me put it another way, Shizuru. How much in earnest are you with that girl?"
The question was met with silence. For a few seconds, she thought she had gone too far, asked too personal and potentially condescending a question. What if she had offended the younger woman? Shizuru was still a Fujino and invested with the natural pride of that ancestry. Midori might be a former tutor, she might be the elder by a good few years, but no one, absolutely no one, presumed to question the personal quirks of a patrician Fujino... no matter how quirky they might be.
The lips before her finally parted, retaining the slight upward tilt at their corners.
"You put me in a strange position, Midori-han," Shizuru finally said. "I could hardly say I take her lightly, since it would be loutish of me to do so. Nor is Natsuki the kind of person one takes lightly."
The governor frowned.
"Supposing I did give you an indication of my regard for her, then might I also ask what bearing it would have on other matters to give you enough reason to bring it up with me this way? I ask this seriously, and not in a manner intended to cut you short."
Midori released a breath she had been unconscious of holding.
"I brought this up because I'm concerned, Shizuru-chan," she said with care. "Look, I know you've had your expedition—this campaign you're on right now—be commuted to what's known as an extended military engagement, one for sprucing up fortifications. And since you're just about done with the sprucing up, that means the engagement is shortened. I hear they'll try to cut you off funds too. The outcome, unless you want to fund the rest of your time here yourself, will be that you'll be forced to return to Hime sooner than planned, probably sometime in the near future. What then? Don't tell me you plan to take your new mistress with you."
Though she had no way of knowing it, Midori's words actually gave cause for Shizuru to relax. It provided her with an explanation for the governor's actions and words, which had actually caught her off-guard.
That is why she mentioned it, the younger woman thought, glad to have a reason to latch onto for this abrupt interview. Midori thought the Fujino army would be forced to pack up and go home soon. But the Argus governor did not know about Chikane's and Shizuru's plans, which would 'extend' this military fortification into a full-scale war. Not that the older woman needed to know it, though: not just yet. Shizuru could allow her to keep thinking that for now.
I know the truth, Shizuru thought to herself, trying to ignore the small unease the older woman's words had planted in her mind. She knew she would be staying in the North for a good while, which meant she need not worry yet about the concerns Midori had just mentioned.
"What if I do decide to take her along?" she asked in jest. "She might like to see what our city has to offer, and I would gain a wonderful companion to save me from the tedium of Hime's politics. She might even help me in my troubles with the Traditionalists. I daresay a good lot of them would shrink at the sight of her swinging a daos in the Forum, you know."
Midori shook her head with vexation.
"I'm not joking," she said. "It wouldn't do. Are you really considering it? If you did bring her to Hime, you'd carry on your liaison with her and everyone would see it for what it is, which would only be acceptable if you made her a slave. You wouldn't make her your slave."
"I would be ashamed to," was the uncharacteristically swift retort. The arrow had hit, and the barb lodged almost visibly in the crack from before. "Not to one such as Natsuki."
"Then you couldn't bring her with you," the governor stated. "You know why, Shizuru, and you know she'd be a liability to your cause. If you can't even hide your relationship now, how can you expect to hide it in that busy old city, festering with gossip and built with walls that sprout ears on every square foot of brick? Everyone would be on to you in a second, and your opponents would cackle like a flock of vultures."
"Vultures cackle?" Shizuru asked inconsequentially, half to herself.
"Whatever sound they make then—I don't know." Midori released a sharp breath, looking at her closely. "What I'm saying is this. You have to make up your mind about it as soon as possible. You never know when you'll get a summons to go back home, so you have to decide. Would you want to take the girl with you or not? And, if you do decide to take her along, would you be capable of treating her in the proper way, which is as a mere slave or foreign trophy you have relations with on occasion and nothing more?"
She was surprised to see a tide of anger crest, banked deep in the younger woman's eyes.
"Natsuki is a freeborn, dignified person," Shizuru declared tightly, though in a calm voice.
Midori nodded.
"She's also an Otomeian," she replied, having decided that quick and fast would be better than taking it slow and painful. "A foreigner. I'm thinking about your goals here, Shizuru, and what you've always said you wanted. How do you think this dalliance would affect it? How do you think the people back home would react if they knew you were consorting with someone they consider a barbarian... and not in what's still an acceptable way as a mistress or master with a slave used specifically for sexual relief? Someone looking to be considered the First Citizen doesn't do the deed with foreigners—or if he does, he's supposed to treat that foreigner as something equivalent as a slave anyway, which is most definitely not what you do when I see you with that girl. You can call it stuck-up, prudish, even xenophobic, but that's the way it goes and you know it."
"It doesn't need to be love, even. The word they'd use is infatuation to describe the way you look with that girl," she said, continuing her battery. "If you take her back with you and let everyone see your infatuation, the Traditionalists would eat it up and regurgitate it daily for everyone to hear. How Shizuru Fujino has been tamed by some beast from the godforsaken North. I wouldn't say it, but they would. Even if you do get over your infatuation or whatever it is, the damage would have been done by then... and your goal of becoming First Citizen would practically be finished. Hime's First Citizen can't be said to have been tamed by a foreigner."
Affecting as prosaic a grimace as she could, she went on in a sad voice.
"The only reason you're being left alone now is because you're a general on campaign," she said. "Generals do this all the time, because it's just too bloody lonely when you're away from home and surrounded by cold iron, spilt blood, and little more. I should know, I've been there myself. But we leave it there, Shizuru, when we have to go home, and most importantly of all, we make it clear in our actions early on that we'll leave it there. We don't look like we fall in love with our lovers, and we don't bring them home. Nor do we treat them the way you've been treating that girl."
She paused and looked pleadingly at the inscrutable face in front of her, feeling as a soldier would after attempting to take down a fort alone. Her hand came up and two of the fingers massaged a suddenly throbbing temple.
"I just need to know you understand all this early on," she said, more gently than before. "Either you reconcile yourself with the idea of eventually having to give her up and make it clear to everyone that you have every intention of doing that… or go with the knowledge that if you don't, it will be another nail your enemies will use to hang your head on. It's a warning for the future, a bit of advice. That's all."
She stopped here and waited with baited breath. It seemed to take an eternity before the younger woman finally replied. And her answer, when it came, consisted of only two words.
"I understand."
Midori searched her face after that, trying to wrestle some further indication of how the younger woman felt from her features. It was in vain, however, and she finally settled back in her couch in defeat.
"All right," she said, assuming a contrite expression. "Now that that's over, I want you to understand something else."
Two tawny eyebrows lifted, indicating that Shizuru was still willing to listen.
"I'm happy you enjoy being with her or seem to enjoy it, from what I see," the governor said, in as kind a voice as she could manage. "And personally, I don't care if she's Otomeian or Mentulaean or whatever race you can come up with, since I can see she pleases you a great deal. I was just trying to tell you that other people will care, and unreasonable as that seems, it's a fact you have to deal with in the future. A lot of the big canards against most senators come from things like this. Just something to remember. I wasn't saying it out of spite."
The other woman unbent enough to smile.
"I know, Midori-han," she said. "I never thought you were being spiteful."
"Thanks for that, at least." She licked her lips. "So what are you going to do about it?"
"Just what you recommended."
"Which would be?"
"Remember that other people may be unreasonable."
The older woman had to grin.
"Sounds like something you do every day," she said humorously. Her hand came out to reach for the shortly abandoned wineglass on the table, eager to wet her unpleasantly dry mouth. "Anyway, I still agree with you on one thing, and that's your taste. Natsuki-chan's gorgeous."
Shizuru lifted an eyebrow: "I am beginning to suspect I have competition."
Midori looked up.
"You probably have had it, all this time," she said. "A pretty thing like that that doesn't go around without being noticed."
"I know."
"You too. Anyone after you these days, aside from Natsuki-chan?"
"No, and I doubt she may even be said to be 'after me'," she smiled. "Ah well."
The governor made a disbelieving face.
"Sure she is! You're just being modest. Or dull." She snorted inelegantly. "Since I just said earlier you're too arrogant and too smart for your own political betterment, I'd say those aren't your excuses. Trust me. I know."
"Indeed," Shizuru said, suddenly looking sly. "You said earlier that you had been there yourself?"
"Oh, don't ask, it was a long time ago." Midori looked up, seeming to remember it to herself. "It wasn't with a fellow soldier, though."
"Do I detect a note of disapproval for the circumstances of my choice?"
The governor's leer became more pronounced.
"I don't think it's necessarily a bad thing," she replied. "But you know how it's generally discouraged, since it makes for awkward situations in what should be a smoothly functioning machine, all that."
"Quite."
"Say, for example, how would you feel about getting involved with a fellow soldier who's not Natsuki-chan? Generally speaking?"
Shizuru considered it.
"I confess I would normally be wary of the relation," she decided.
"But not if it's a cavalry captain with her superior officer."
"That is different. She may only be following orders."
The two of them laughed.
"And being reassigned a new mount, I'm sure!" the older woman said, unable to resist making the ribald jest. She was aware that the effects of the liquor she had imbibed were finally beginning to show. "Where is—who's there? Open it!"
The two women looked expectantly at the opening door, on which someone had just knocked. The face that appeared was not that of the girl both were waiting for, however, but one unfamiliar to Shizuru.
The man addressed the governor of Argus.
"Governor, I'm sorry to interrupt you, but..."
Midori slapped her forehead even before he could finish.
"Don't tell me," she said. "It's the Arabs and Greeks again?"
He bowed apologetically. She got up from her seat.
"I'm coming. Tell them to wait there." Turning to Shizuru, she rolled her eyes upwards in a gesture of frustration. "I'm sorry about this, Shizuru. It looks like I have to go and listen to those idiots again. Can you tell Natsuki-chan I'm sorry I couldn't stay to meet your little pet? She'll think I made her go all that way for nothing."
"Not at all," the younger woman replied. "Please go ahead, Midori-han."
Midori nodded, already sweeping away.
"Wait for her here," she called over her shoulder. "Or she'll be wondering if I did something to you in case you're not here when she returns. Don't want that lovely coming after me with that daos of hers." A second's pause, as though remembering something important. "And give that birthday party a thought! I'm looking forward to it."
Shizuru smiled as the other woman finally left, the man with her closing the door. Her smile faded as soon as it shut and she was alone in the room once again.
There were a few moments of silence.
"The future, hm?"
The whispered words were soon followed by the sound of her rising, walking towards the doors leading to the balcony. She made her way there, a pensive look on her face as she passed through the doors and came into the open air. She took a deep breath and smelled the tang of the sea nearby.
In the future, I shall have to travel over that sea again.
The older woman's words earlier weighed on her mind, much though she had pretended not to be affected by them. Midori was right—she had to think of the future. And what did the future hold for her? Great things, she was sure. Conquests, triumphs, the institution of First Citizen. All things she had always wanted. But now there was something else that she felt belonged to that list, and it went by the name "Natsuki". What did that mean?
No more than what I have known for a while now, she decided. It meant she desired the girl, wanted her badly. She wished for the girl to be by her side, as she was now. But did that desire reach the point of wanting her to be by her side beyond this campaign? To put it in Midori's question to her, would she want her lover to be with her even in Hime, once the time came to go home? Or would she leave her here?
The thought caused a sudden ache in her chest. She, leave Natsuki?
"Unbearable," she hissed to herself, closing her eyes as the breeze caressed her upturned face. She should not be thinking such things yet, should she, especially when even their relation was still so new? Circumstances could change, after all. She should not spend her time being anxious over a decision that was still long in coming. Why mind concerns when they were still so far away as to be irrelevant, even if only for the time being? It was a futile exercise, not to mention a waste of anxiety. And it was putting the wagon before the ox, at the moment. To worry about that took away the time she still needed to come to grips with the very fact of herself being in a relationship, of her first time taking anyone into her bed or life this way—and, most fearsome thing of all, of feeling so much for someone else. Shizuru was a senator already, yes, not to mention already legendary for her exploits in battle. She had achieved in a shockingly small time a great deal more than many of her peers would ever achieve in their lives. But that was not the sole measure of a woman when it came to life's greatest trials, love included. She was still, in many ways, very young herself.
So the question gnawing at her, voiced by the governor of Argus earlier and repeated by a voice in her mind: how earnest was she in dealing with Natsuki? And how much of it showed that even her old friend and tutor would feel the need to mention it?
She moved forward until she stood at the very banisters. She felt a great deal for this strange girl that had come in to her life, she was aware, so much that it consumed her on occasion. Witness the incident with Takeda Masashi. Even so, how much of an indication was that of her sentiments? How could she tell if that was merely jealous desire or something as reckless as love?
"Frightening," she whispered to no one in particular, musing over that word. She was not someone known for expressing such sentiments, or even romantic notions. Which did not mean she could be prevented from harbouring them, she acknowledged. All the same, she had never even come close to considering this question before. It seemed so alien to her, so alarming a point. Not that she was about to run away from it, come to that: she might be young, she might be new to all of this and alarmed by it, but Shizuru was never a coward.
But it still discomfited her.
"And even now that I see the disturbance she causes," she murmured, looking out at the grounds, "I still wish nothing more than that she were here to comfort me this very moment."
As though her wish had been borne to some benevolent god, she caught sight of her lover's figure in the gardens before her. Natsuki was walking with her usual smooth stride, her gait matching that of the young panther at her side. Unlike Shizuru, who had compromised with the breeze by tying up her hair these days, she had her mane falling loose as always. The wind caught it up in a flowing river of blue-black locks that streamed to one side, some crossing her face but ignored even then. There was something unearthly in the picture she presented, Shizuru thought. Something unreal. She stared intensely at her, willing the girl to look up, and Natsuki did.
Shizuru felt her breath catch, seeing the flash of acknowledgment in the emerald eyes even from far away. Then there was the slow, faint smile on the pink lips, just before the Otomeian lowered her head shyly, as if both embarrassed and flattered by the attention. The steady, graceful steps never faltered. Red eyes followed each footfall, unknowingly softening in expression as the young woman came nearer.
I suppose I do look at you a little too much, a little too lingeringly, she told the coming woman in a voice only she could hear. But why should I not? You were made to be looked at—though I do not like it when others appreciate the same thing. Or perhaps I can stand it, if you return only my appreciation. I want you to look only at me. Does that really show so much when I look at you? Can they really see it so clearly, as Midori-han told me?
Did she really look so romantic, so possessive when it came to Natsuki?
The governor's words returned: "No. Shizuru, you look like you're in love with her."
Shizuru propped her elbows on the banister and leaned forward, unwilling to take her eyes away from the approaching figure and wondering if she even could.
Back in Hime, a din was heard all over the Lower Forum as people filed out of the Well of the Comitia, stepping high and quickly to avoid being trampled. The tribunes of the plebs were left on the rostra, the beaks of ships vanquished by Himean generals jutting from the wall behind them. The day's Plebeian Assembly was finished, and it had concluded very satisfactorily for at least two of the men on the platform. The rest of the tribunes were clustered around their two colleagues, the ones who had successfully passed their respective proposals just today. It was these two victors who now stood at the centre of the group, shaking hands with the others as they were congratulated for their victories. One of them was the famous swordsman, Takeda Masashi.