Jeiku shuddered. The unearthly sound had faded, but the chill that had overcome him did not fade. That uncontrollable force was still out there.
As the night deepened, the sky darkened to a shade of navy blue, frosted with clouds and sprinkled with stars. The last embers of Angeline's fires died down. Kiisan looked around at the damage they had done. Matataki approached him slowly, also surveying the battlefield, "What do you think, Father Kiisan?" he inquired with a touch of melancholy in his voice.
"I think..." Kiisan replied, "...That I want this to end soon."
Matataki nodded his agreement, before his mind suddenly turned to another matter, "It's moving! Where's my son!" His brown-flecked eyes widened fearfully and he began to stride quickly along the road, his eyes roving back and forth across everything before him with worry. "Sasshalai!" he called, pushing past Liyuin and Angeline.
He did not have much further to go. "Father!" Sasshalai cried in return. His face broke into a wide smile; "You came!"
The leader of Klikk was less enthusiastic than his son. The boy's left arm was bloody and his right hand was placed over the wound. "You're injured! I'm taking you back to the camp, you have to get that taken care of!" He rushed over and easily picked the child up, striding back towards the rebels' camp.
Murasaki Fuji no Shita ni Kuni
"The Country Under the Purple Wisteria"
Chapter 61- Song and Silence
As she assessed the situation, Sanada's lips gradually turned up into a proud smile. The rebel flag was flying from the top of Jao-Nyang. Upon his return, Mio had fallen asleep in the tent where Sanada worked. She took a moment to step away from her map and charts to look at the young man. He had gone to sleep with his shoes on. His hair was tousled and his clothes wrinkled. To the older woman he seemed very young. "There may be help for this profession yet," she laughed to herself. In Tej's pack, which had been left beside her makeshift table she found a blanket, which she carefully lay over Mio.
She left the tent quietly, wondering why Jeiku had not returned from his task at Jao-Nyang. The dark-haired woman moved among the tents, observing the last activity of the night. Han Li sat on a crate near the edge of the camp, cleaning his dirk. "Have you heard anything of Jeiku?" she asked seriously.
"Your personal spy?" he asked in return, raising an eyebrow, "No. Nothing at all. And I'm making it my job to keep an eye out tonight while so many others need their sleep. If I see him, I'll tell him you were looking."
"Thank you," she sighed. It was not like Jeiku to waste time or get sidetracked. Since they had come south, however, he seemed to have gained a greater affinity for trouble. The only reason Sanada had to be sure he had not been caught was that no one was left in the area to catch him. She walked back to her tent, pausing for a moment to glance into the hospital tent, where Dr. Clark was busy bandaging Tiko's hand. The small amount of movement here was a good sign.
She continued on her way, entering her tent and flopping down on the army cot that served as her bed with a sigh. The offensive at Rugcnul was a success. Her plan had been carried out with barely a hitch. It was almost too good. The strategist knew that she could not depend on luck. Any future confrontations would be on a larger scale and most likely not allow for such effective use of surprise tactics. It had been a long day and Sanada Morin had to admit, she was tired.
The following morning the revolutionary army began to pack up and move temporarily into Jao-Nyang. Louis Abdul brought a tent down on top of himself and Mai Mai stole a chicken in the messy process. Sanada groaned, "Why is it they can fight adequately, but can't even break camp without making a ridiculous mess?"
Sita stifled a giggle; "For the most part they're just peasants, not professional soldiers. I think it's sort of charming for a change."
Kiisan took the opportunity to wander into some of the tiny hamlets dotting the area. The turned soil of the fields, where lettuce and artichokes would be growing later in the year, reminded him of home. Yuki tagged along with him, enjoying the walk, "Looks a lot like Serif, doesn't it?"
The rebel leader nodded his agreement, trying to smile at some small children that watched the two northerners as they passed through the town. The unrest in the country seemed to having little effect on these people. Women swept outside their homes, a few older men loafed outside a tavern throwing dice, and a couple of boys scarcely younger than Kiisan and Yuki themselves played a ball game in a nearby patch of grass.
"They seem pretty well off," Kiisan noted thoughtfully.
"It's probably winter back home by now," Yuki replied, "The climate is milder here. They probably have a longer growing season. That would help them better pay the taxes."
He tipped his straw hat at a group of young women who giggled and blushed as the two revolutionaries passed. At the outskirts of the two musicians stood behind a black cap turned out on the ground. The man was tall and thin with blind eyes that stared off into nowhere. He plucked a somber tune on his mandolin while the tiny woman standing beside him hummed along, holding a tambourine decorated with pink and red ribbons.
"Do you have any money on you?" Kiisan whispered to Yuki. The blond man dug a hand into his pouch and pulled out a few copper coins, approaching awkwardly and placing them in the cap. "Have you fallen on hard times?" the young priest asked sadly.
The woman looked at him, with sorrow in her eyes that told him without a doubt that they had. "Do you have any requests?" she questioned softly.
"Um, do you know any songs from further north?" he inquired, "I mean, it's not a big deal if you don't. We wanted to help you out anyway..."
"Only one," the man answered, "Will "A Nightingale Sang in Serif City" be acceptable?"
"I know that song!" Yuki laughed, "Please play that one! You've got to have heard it Kiisan!"
"I don't really know..." Kiisan mumbled, "Maybe...I don't always know the names..."
The man began to play and the woman smiled at them, "You're Northerners..." she said before she began, "When destined lovers meet in Serif, so the stories say, songbirds sing, the snow melts into spring, every flower blossoms for that day. I know such magical things can be, because one evening it happened to me..."
Yuki tapped his foot happily to the beat. Kiisan listened intently, his thoughts touching on other subjects as the music filled his mind. He wondered how Falina was doing in Klikk and assured himself that she must be doing well if Matataki would leave her there without his supervision. He agonized for a few moments over how he had dragged hundreds of people from their homes to fight, knowing that not all would survive. Louis Abdul had told him many times before that no one came to join the rebel army unless they were willing to spend their life to achieve their goals, but sometimes Kiisan faltered when he considered it. A frightening notion.
"...And like a mountain echo, a nightingale sang in Serif City. I know 'cause I was there, that night in Serif City," the singing woman finished. Both she and the man bowed slightly.
Yuki clapped enthusiastically, "My mom used to sing that song! She always said it was about her and my father."
"What are your names?" Kiisan questioned the pair, "Where are you going to go now?"
"I am Rema, and my companion's name is Maet," Rema answered for both of them, "We'll go wherever we have to. First we'll probably go somewhere to eat!"
Yuki, catching Kiisan's drift, grinned, his teeth shining, "We'll get you something to eat...For free," he offered, "I'm Yuki, this is Kiisan..." He nudged Kiisan softly in the arm.
"I'll hire you!" Kiisan blurted out, "Please come along with us! I can't pay much, but you'll have somewhere to stay and something to eat everyday!"
"Let's go with them," Maet suggested to his comrade. She picked up the black cap and took the coins out of it, sticking them in her pocket, then reached up and put the cap on Maet's dark blond hair.
"Aww, for sure, we'll go," she agreed, "Nothing to wait for, Yuki, Kiisan, let's go quick, we haven't eaten since lunch yesterday and I'm starved!"
Han Li had also broken away from the main group that day, surprisingly enough, after asking Sanada's permission to snoop around in the forest and possibly to walk to Kirov. He walked slowly through the thick brush, stepping softly in an attempt to keep the sound down. The True Wind Rune bearer was hunting for the most elusive and most dangerous prey in the nation: the Beast Rune.
The most important thing in this search was that the dusty man would have to find the golden wolf before it found him. He stopped momentarily to finger an item in his pouch; it was nearly as old as he himself. Memories returned to him of the last time he had crossed paths with the ferocious feral power and he could feel his blood boiling. "I have a score to settle with you Beast Rune...I'm almost sorry it's not destined to come down to just you and me..."
Dry leaves crunched slightly under his boots. A few more brown leaves blew out of the trees as a cold wind swept through the forest.
"Where are you going, Han Li?" a young voice asked him. For a moment he thought that Sasshalai was calling to him and stopped suddenly, realizing it was the voice of a girl. "Why are you marching straight toward the most dangerous thing in miles? Are you really that crazy? I always thought you were just erratic..."
The blond girl, with cornflowers and ribbons in her hair, stood behind him, smiling politely. "Sasshalai mentioned you before," he noted calmly, "I suppose you're here and you're real. What's that supposed to mean to me?"
"Don't go to Kirov," she told him, before vanishing among the trees.
"Don't go to Kirov?! Well why not?!" he stormed, "You're not making any sense!"
"Go south!" her voice echoed in his mind.
"I suppose I won't get anything better out of you," he complained mildly to himself, "To the south then...things are stirring and I don't like them..."
He changed his direction, heading south through the forest, following the wind on its course south ward out of the north. The need for silence diminished and he increased his speed, moving swiftly out of the trees.
He had crossed the border into the state of Farin. Three people were stopped just off the side of the road. Something about the way they were crouched down at the roadside worried him. It was important for him to do something about them. He picked up his pace again, running at his top speed, the wind whistling in his ears. Except for the sound of the wind it was silent. He cut across a field of dry grasses, the silence engulfing him.