The group was enjoying a simple evening meal of rice cakes and miso soup in the ryokan, which was bustling with activity. All sort of people were coming to and forth, the proud samurai in their clan insignia, the yakuza peddlers of cheap wares making long sideway glances at Yukemori's tattoos, the farmers selling their harvest, common folk on pilgrimages to the temples either in the mountains or in the cities along the Post Road, the traveling holy men, the haughty officials of the shogunate, the courtiers of the noble houses with their fine garments and large convoys. It was, indeed, a ryokan on the most busy road of the Empire.
- "What is it, Yukemori?" Jelena asked with concern, as she noticed that the young man had fallen silent after an enthusiastic discussion with Peri, his pallor unhealthy and his forehead perspiring. "Have you hurt your finger?"
- "Yes... but it is no matter," Yukemori answered.
- "It does matter," Jelena said. "I can see that you are in pain. I serve a god called Ilmater, and his followers exist to ease the burden of anyone who suffers. Let me help you, for my lord has granted me some powers, and I also know something about medicine myself."
- "You can see that I am in pain?" Yukemori asked, shocked. "This is a loss of face for me, for it is an injury of honor and should be carried as such in public."
This was something Jelena had a hard time understanding, but she didn't argue about the sensibility of the notion. She could sense that it was something very self-evident for Yukemori, and probably for any Kozakuran.
- "Do not trouble yourself... I have experience dealing with such matters. I have seen a lot of suffering, healed wounds of many and been unable to help even many more. Thus, I can see the telltale signs easier than many other people would," she said.
- "She is right, Yuki," Peri confirmed. "I sure didn't notice anything. I, though, just curse if I am in pain. Unless there is an enemy about I don't want to give the satisfaction to, that is."
- "Curse," Umikaze said, smiling slyly.
- "Yes, kiddo," Peri smiled. "That's when mommy says words that make grandma Jelena frown."
- "Kick ass!" Umikaze giggled, delighted.
- "Exactly! That's a good start!" Peri said, ruffling her hair.
Jelena sighed audibly, but could not help smiling a little.
- "Come, Yukemori. Let me see what I can do about the finger," she said, beckoning.
- "I will come with you and use this time to study up spells," Winski said.
- "Yep," Imoen said, very quickly. "Come, Peri, let's have a nice sister-to-sister chat and Cespy can make some illusions for Umi."
Peri rushed off the table in Imoen's tow, carrying her child.
Sarevok, feeling awkward, took a long, large-eyed look in Mei's eyes.
- "One could almost think that they left us alone on purpose," he said .
- "Could be," Mei said, her large dark eyes so unblinking and so deep. They were the kind of eyes you could drown into. Where Tamoko's eyes had always been a little sad, Mei's had a mischievous glint, but both women had this edge of steel in them.
- "I wonder why," the miserable Sarevok said, feeling out of control and irritated by the fact.
Mei didn't reply immediately. She looked away for a while.
- "When you are a court woman," she finally said, "there is an art you learn more than anything they actually teach you, like ikebana, origami, dancing, singing or tea ceremony. That is the art of watching. Of perceiving. Of noticing. Look at all these people, Sarevok. What do you see?"
Sarevok frowned, not understanding what she was getting at.
- "I see people. Some armed, some not. Some move like warriors, the others, not," he said.
Mei smiled.
- "So says a natural born warrior. But you can see a lot more than that, if you know what to look at. Ashimoto wo miru... look at their feet. When people are on the move by foot, they wear straw sandals. If they own horses, they don't, which means that they belong to the noble class. If they are well-off merchants, for example, or prospering farmers, their sandals are in better condition, perhaps they even have thick stockings covering their feet. Poor folks, now, their sandals are all but worn through."
- "And?" Sarevok said, fascinated.
- "And, your family perceives that something extraordinary happened to us the moment we saw each other. We were destined to meet, Sarevok, and they notice that you needed to meet me and see what kind of role the Fortunes have given to our meeting. They also love you very much, and I should like to hear all the story behind you... but they want this to pass."
Mei's face was so insistent, so full of soul. Sarevok felt an intense urge to grab it and kiss her again, and was then reminded of Tamoko's sad almond eyes, and how he had felt, only sixteen years old, when he had kissed her the first time.
- "I..." he stammered, infuriated by his uncharacteristic insecurity, "I have no idea what you are talking about."
Mei looked hurt.
- "No idea at all!" Sarevok continued, his heart feeling too big in his chest, the stony fist of his desperation crushing it once again. "You imagine things, spirit woman. You are just beautiful, that is all of it, and I haven't got laid in a long time. Don't think there is more to it."
Now there was fury in Mei's eyes, and they looked darker still.
- "Nisemono!" she hissed. "Liar! I KNOW you feel it, as much as I do! I see it in your eyes, I feel it in your soul!"
Sarevok rose abruptly.
- "I do not care for you, I can always pay a prostitute for removing that longing from my loins," he said coldly and stormed off.
