Chapter Two
NINE YEARS LATER
The trees moaned and sighed as below them a deerdied a sudden, violent death, its life taken by another creature. Clawsand teeth slashed at the animal, rending flesh. There was nothing the trees could do but stand and watch and worry. The creature below them tore into the deer, devouring it as quickly as it could. What a disturbance; what a tragedy; how very unnatural.
Tomoyo slammed the hammer down on her thumb and choked back an oath. Why are you so clumsy this morning? she chided herself.
She plunged her hand into a bucket of cool water nearby. After a couple of minutes she pulled it out and crossed to a bottle that sat on a shelf across the room. She picked it up, squeezed a thick liquid onto her thumb, and slowly rubbed it in. The scent of chamomile, geraniums, lavender, lemon, myrrh, and rose filled her nostrils. The remedy was her grandmother's recipe, and it was designed to alleviate swelling. Years before, Tomoyo had started keeping a supply of it on hand in the shop. Every finger knew it well.
she let out her breath slowly, forcing herself to relax.After a minute she stared gingerly at her hand. She grimaced at what she saw. It was rough and red like a man's and laced with scars. Through the years she had broken three of her fingers, but thanks to more of her grandmother's treatments and care, none of them were crooked.
She sighed and closed her eyes, hearing snatches of local gossip in her head. "She's never gonna find a man 'less she starts acting like a woman". The women of her village thought she didn't know, didn't hear them talking about her. She heard, though, and the words hurts.
I can fight against a sword, or fists, but I don't know how to fight against words, she thought bitterly. Worse, I know it hurts Father, though he would never say.
Tomoyo clenched her fist and watched the muscles in her forearm jump. Her grandmother had lotions for those, as well, to keep them from growing quickly. If it weren't for those creams, Tomoyo's arms would be twice as big.
"When Akira returns, there will be time enough for me to worry about marriage," she mutttered to herself. It was an old mantra, but it still gave her strength. She didn't let herself think about what would happen if he never did return. Eventually he would--he must. Just six months before, a young man had returned to his home in the village. He said that the fighting was still raging. Knowing her brother, he wouldn't return until it was done. Until then, she would continue to help her father and keep using salves to keep her skin smooth and soft.
Except for my hands. I wish Grandmother could do something about their redness. Tomoyo was instantly angry with herself for thinking it. I have nothing to be ashamed of; I earned every one of these scars.
Thinking of the scars on her fingers was enough to make her legs begin to ache. She grimaced as she sat down on a barrel and rubbed them. Those scars I didn't earn, she thought grimly. There was nothing about them to be proud of. Her thoughts flashed, as they often did, to the wolf that had coused them. I wonder if he's still alive out there?
Tomoyo shook her head to rid it of the question. The woods held enough terror for her without her allowing thoughts like that in. No, he probably died long ago. That thought did give her a great deal of satisfaction, and she stood, ready to continue working.
She crossed to the anvil and bent to pick up herhammer. A shadow darkened the door and she glanced up. A man stood there, his form thin beneath travel-stained clothes. His black hair was unkempt and straggled past his shoulder.
"What can I do for you, stranger?" she asked.
"I guess I would seeem a stranger to your eyes, but I know you, Tomoyo," he said, his voice cracking.
"Though when I last saw you, your appearance was less that of a boy and more that of a girl".
She wrapped her good hand around a metal rod used to stoke the fire. "Who are you?" she asked warily. She stood her ground as he advanced.
When he got close enough that she could see his eyes, she froze. "Touya?" she whispered.
The wraith before her nodded. "What's left of me".
"Touya!" she cried, dropping the poker and flying to him.
"Careful!" he exclaimed as she hugged him fiercely.
"Sorry," she laughed, pulling back slightly. She couldn't believe the boy she remembered had grown into the man before her. Only his eyes were the same-- a soft brown, shot through with gold flecks. Even they had changed, though; a shadow was in them that had not been there before.
She glanced over his shoulder to the open door. Would her brother stride through it next? Several seconds elapsed and she could feel disappointment curling like a serpent in the pit of her stomach.
Touya just continued to stare at her, and tears slowly began to trickle down his cheeks. He looked as though he were struggling to speak. Finally he gave up and just shook his head.
"Come," she said, still gripping his arms. "I must take you to see my father. We will dine and you will tell us everything".
He nodded before clasping her in his arms once more. After a moment he pulled away with a pained laugh. "Lead on, lady".
She smiled self-consciously, brushing off her trousers hastily. She had began wearing them long ago. They offered better protection from the sparks of the fires with which she worked and better covered the scars she carried. Seeing Touya reminded her of a time long before, when she had still dressed like a girl and behaved like one.
Quickly she dapened the fire in the forge and checked to make sure nothing else needed immediate tending. Satisfied, she took his hand and led him from the shop toward her home.
Warm memories of childhood filled her as they walked. She watched Touya as he looked around him with eyes that seemed slightly bewildered. He caught her watching and gave her the ghost of a smile.
"I never thought I would see this place again. Somehow I expected it to be different, changed".
"Like you?" she asked gently.
"Strange, the thoughts one has when far from home".
"Well, you're back now, safe. You can put such thoughts behind you".
"One day, maybe," he admitted. "But that day seems far away".
His words struck her as strange, but her worry for her brother pushed them away.
Suddenly a man cried out, "Touya!" and rushed toward them. Touya jered and twisted toward the sound. He relaxed visibly after a moment.
"Hello, Kurogane," he called good-naturedly.
Kurogane embraced him and then turned. "Touya has returned from the crusades!" he shouted.
Within moments people were streaming from their homes, shoutings Touya's name and rushing forward to touch him. Two men lifted him high into the air and paradedhim up and down the street, laughing with joy. Tomoyo's father rushed up and they delivered Touya into his arms. He crushed his nephew with a happy cry, and Tomoyo felt tears burning her eyes.
Touya is the returning hero, but where is my brother and when may we welcome him home? She shook her head, willing herself to be patient just a while longer. Touya will surely have news.
Down the road her father led the impromptu parade honoring his nephew. Tomoyo began to walk slowly, trailing behind. In her heart a nameless fear began to form, and she felt as though a shadow had passed over her. No matter what she did, she could not shake the thought that some darkness was about to touch them all.
When she entered her home, she found her father and Touya already seated at the table. She joined them and within minutes they were all eating. She watched Touya under lowered lashes as he wolfed down his food. He attacked it, eating so much so fast that she thought surely he would explode.
Out of courtesy, her father said nothing and neither did she. Instead they both ate and watched and waited. At last Touya pushed back his plate and shifted in his chair. He lifted his eyes and they darted between Tomoyo and her father.
"Thank you," he said. Hesitantly he continued, "It is good to see you both, to be here again".
"You are a welcome sight to us," her father answered gruffly. Tomoyo glanced at him in time to see him wipe away a tear.
They sat for a moment, the silence thick with unasked questions and answers they were all afraid to hear. Finally Tomoyo broke it. "Tell us your story."
Touya nodded slowly. "We sailed to Spain. It was a long journey and many died along the way. From there we sailed to France, and then down the Mediterranean Sea to Acre. There we fought. Some of us went on Jerusalem, but many did not."
"And what of Akira?" Tomoyo asked at last, unable to bear it any longer.
Touya said not a word, but instead dropped his head into his hands and began to sob brokenly. Tomoyo stared fearfully across the table at her father, who held her eyes only for a moment before turning away.
"What of Akira?" Tomoyo asked again, her voice trembling.
"He fell, outside of Jerusalem. He was killed in the battle; he died so quickly. One minute he was there and the next he was gone. They killed him and there was nothing I could do to stop it."
All she could do was stare at him as he was talking. Over and over in her mind she told herself that it couldn't be true, even as the emptiness in her heart convinced her that it was. She didn't look at her father; she couldn't just yet. Akira was dead. They had both known it could happen. If she was honest with herself she had suspected it for years, but there had always been a part of her that held on to hope. Jerusalem was far away and the battle was doubtless long and hard.
She stared down at her hands and noticed in an almost detached way that her fingernails were cutting into her palms and drawing blood. She forced herself to relax her fingers. Tiny droplets of blood beaded on her hands and fell onto her pants. That didn't matter, though. Nothing mattered.
"Everyone loved Akira," Touya continued. "He helped save so many. He even saved the duke's life. He was so grateful he gave Akira some of his own armor to wear, marked with the duke's seal. I brought it back with me; he would have wanted you to have it."
He reached into his bag and pulled out a breastplate. He offered it to Tomoyo and she took it with trembling hands. The duke's seal, that of a crescent moon, was emblazoned on the front. She had seen its like before. She passed her hand over it and then cried out as she took a closer look. There was a red stain splashed across half of the moon.
She stared in horror, the hair along the back of her neck standing on end and a sick feeling beginning to overwhelm her. At long last she looked up, her eyes seeking out Touya's.
"It's his blood," Touya said, confirming her fear.
The fog lay heavy upon the land, covering all in a shroud of gray. Death hung thick and rank in the air, and Tomoyo could smell the blood of some woodland creature that had been freshly slain in the night. The earth itself was dying, the cycle of the year coming to an end as one by one the days of autumn slipped from existence, beyond the grasp of a mortal man.
As she walked the barren path the black corpses of trees appeared slowly from out of the haze. The birds that remained were hushed, awaiting the coming of the sun in the last moments of the lingering night. All was silent as the grave, and Tomoyo thought of her beloved brother whom she would see no more. His body lay somewhere in that distant land held by the infidels, a fallen warrior in the pope's holy wars to claim Jerusalem.
Tomoyo cared nothing of popes or wars or infedels; she only knew that he who had loved her best in this life had preceded her to the next, and that she would give all she owned or would ever have for one last glimpse of his precious face.
But still, she put one foot before the other, moving on just as nature and all of life did and must. Far off in the woods a branch snapped. Almost unconsciously her hand tightened around the hilt of her brother's dagger. It was hers now; he would never return to claim the dagger, the very one he had used to save her from the wolf so many years before.
She peered into the darkness, wishing for the eyes of an animal so that she might see what they did. Nothing moved, at least not that she saw. A shiver danced up her spine and she turned her eyes back to the path. As she continued to walk her legs tingled slightly where there were scars. They too had never forgotten the feel of the wolf's fangs.
In a sack upon her back she carried her brother's armor. She couldn't think about it, though, or she would start crying again. Lost in thought, she didn't see the body until she was nearly upon it.
She jumped and let out a startled yelp as she realized that the man lay across the path. He lay still, as though he were dead, and he was completely naked.
At her cry he stirred and then suddenly jumped to his feet.
"Who are you?" Tomoyo gasped, averting her eyes.
For one moment he stood, panting like a wild deer, before turning to flee into the woods.
"Who are you?" she shouted after him.
Only silence met her question. She strained her ears but could hear nothing. Is he hiding just out of sight, watching me? she wondered. The thought sent chill of fear through her. She clutched her dagger tighter and hurried on.
Who could he have been, and why was he asleep naked in the forest? Questions crowded her brain, each demanding to be heard and answered. Above her the trees began to whisper to themselves, and she could feel the hair on the back of her neck rising. She realized that her heart was pounding in fear, and she broke into a stilted run. At every step the armor banged against her back, a painful reminder of her grim errand.
Above her the trees continued to whisper and sway; dark warnings crowded her mind, and she did not know if they were real or imagined. Faster her feet flew; the path familiar to them as it twisted through the trees. At last she slowed as she neared her destination.
Tomoyo's grandmother, Nakuru, lived deep in the forest. Her house stood, proud and alone, in a small clearing. As Tomoyo came into sight of it she saw smoke curling slowly from the chimney, blending with the fog until the two were indistinguishable.
The door hung a little crooked so that all manner of insects found their way underneath and inside. Grandmother always just sighed and carried them outside. There was not a straight board in the whole of the house. Nakuru was gifted at many things, but carpentry was not among them. Still, she took pride in having done all the work herself.
Not that she had a choice, Tomoyo thought bitterly. Her grandmother had been banished from the village before Tomoyo was born, amidst accusations of witchcraft. It was a miracle the villagers had been content to only banish her and not burn her. Tomoyo shook her head. Grandmother is no witch; she just asks questions no one else will and manages to find the answers.
Tomoyo reached the door and knocked lightly before pushing it open. "Grandmother?"
"Hello, dear," the old woman called cheerfully. She was stirring something in a large pot hanging over a crackling fire.
Tomoyo carefully set down her sack and walked over. "What are you experimenting with now, Grandmother? Another healing potion, or a fertilizer for your garden, perhaps?"
"Breakfast," Nakuru said with a chuckle, her brown eyes crackling with good humor, "and you're just in time to join me."
Tomoyo wrinkled her nose. "I already ate," she fibbed.
Nakuru clicked her tongue. "What have I told you about lying to me? You'll have some-- it won't kill you."
"That's what worries me," Tomoyo said with a sigh.
She sat down on a chair and looked around the house. It was cluttered, as always, with all of her grandmother's things. Row after row of glass jars lined crude shelves. They held a variety of plant life that Nakuru used in making her salves and ointments. On a small table were still more jars of different-colored oils. Several pots hung around the hearth, and there were more contraptions and jars spread around the room haphazardly.
On one wall hung a large piece of parchment with black dots marked upon it. Tomoyo knew they represented the stars in the summer sky. Mapping the stars was one of her grandmother's latest projects, and on several nights she had managed to enlist Tomoyo's aid.
"I didn't expect you until Thursday," Nakuru commented as she removed the boiling pot from the fire.
Tomoyo nodded, her throat tightening as her eyes drifted to her sack.
"What is it?" Nakuru asked sharply, as though sensing Tomoyo's change of mood.
"Touya came home yesterday from the crusade."
Nakuru lunged forward with a cry of excitement. She hugged Tomoyo tightly and when she pulled back tears of joy were filling her eyes. "And Akira?" she asked after a minute.
"They killed him," Tomoyo sobbed.
The tears of joy turned to tears of sorrow as they held each other and cried.
After eating, Nakuru reverently removed Akira's armor from the sack Tomoyo had brought. As Tomoyo again caught sight of the bloodstained moon, she shivered.
"It was given to him by his lord, as a reward for his service," Tomoyo explained.
Nakuru nodded slowly. "I can see that." She passed her fingers lightly over the moon. "I saw a scarlet moon once, when I was a child. It rose in the night sky, the color blood. My mother told me it was a bad omen, a marker of death. I didn't belive her then, though I confess this makes me wonder now if maybe she was right." She shook her head.
"Can you do something with it, make it into something I could wear?" Tomoyo asked, her voice hoarse from crying.
Nakuru nodded. "I'll see what I can do."
"Thank you."
"Maybe I can make something you can wear for protection as you walk through the forest."
"You're the one always telling me I have nothing to fear from the woods."
"It's not the woods I'm worried about," Nakuru said meaningfully.
Tomoyo had almost forgotten about the man she had seen earlier, but her grandmother's words reminded her. "I saw a man on my way here today. He was lying naked in the path. He woke up and ran away before I could get a look at his face."
"Are you all right?" Nakuru asked, voice filled with alarm.
"Yes, only puzzled."
"Some mysteries we should not seek the answers to," Nakuru said ominously.
"What does that mean?"
Nakuru smiled, but Tomoyo could tell it was forced. "Nothing. I'm just glad you're all right. And don't go chasing young men into the woods. There's only trouble to be found there."
"Grandmother, are you warning me about men?" Tomoyo asked, embarrassed and vaguely amused at the same time.
"I should be; most of them are ill-intentioned toward young women. That's not what I meant, though. I mean't don't go chasing after strangers. They can be dangerous, especially ones running around in the forest like animals."
"I won't," Tomoyo said, trying to keep her voice light.
There was a knock at the door and Nakuru rose to answer it. She held it wide as a young man and woman entered with their heads bowed reverently.
"Chiharu, Takashi," Tomoyo said, nodding to them both.
They murmured greetings in return. Chiharu and Takashi were the only ones beside Tomoyo who visited Nakuru. They came to learn from her, and she had taught them much about medicine and nature. Tomoyo was the only one who knew they were studying with her grandmother. The villagers might not bergrudge a girl calling on her grandmother, but they would be quick to condemn two people calling on an accused witch.
"I should go," Tomoyo said softly.
"No, stay and we shall explore the mysteries of nature together," Nakuru urged.
Tomoyo hesitated for a moment. It was Sunday, so there was no work to be done. Normally she would have spent the day with her father, but he and Touya were doubtless catching up. There was nothing she could do at home, and the truth was, she didn't want to go back quite yet.
"Thank you," she said.
Nakuru smiled.
For the rest of the afternoon they studied some of the deadlier plants, Nakuru warning them how to spot the poisonous ones and how to make some of them safe. Tomoyo should have been fascinated, but her mind was elsewhere, on a lonely field outside Jerusalem.
The tears coursed down her cheeks, and she let them. This was the only place such tears were welcome. In the village she had to be strong, both in the shop and at home. Her father did not welcome tears, believing them to be a sign of weakness. Weakness was a privilege that Tomoyo had given up the day Akira left for the crusades. Her father was a kind man, but he kept his emotions hidden.
When she was younger he had been little warmer, but the departure of her brother had been hard on him. Though he only reluctantly accepted her help at the shop, he did treat her as more of a man than he wished she was.
He wishes I would act more like a young woman. Yet, where the work is concerned he treats me like a man. I guess it is the only way he can reconcile the thought of a woman working at a man's job. Things might have been so different. How would my life have played out if I had never gone to work at the shop, if I had never learned to fight, if Akira had never left?
Akira. Over and over in her mind she imagined her brother dying, run through with a sword on a bloody field, his body falling slowly to the ground. In her mind she saw his eyes as he died, the love and hope fading slowly from them until there was nothing left.
"Monkshood needs to be avoided at all costs," Nakuru said.
Tomoyo snapped back to attentoin and watched as her grandmother displayed a plant with deep green leaves and clusters of dark blue flowers.
"This one brings only death, swift and ugly. The tiniest amount of it can cause numbness, and a little more can cause death. It is popularly used as a poison. It grows in moist soil. I haven't been able to find a single positive use for it yet."
Takashi turned noticeably paler. "What do you experiment on?" he asked, his voice quavering a little.
Tomoyo bit her lip to keep from howling with laughter. She knew all too well what the answer was going to be.
"I will tell you when you are ready to know," Nakuru answered.
Takashi eyes widened in alarm and Chiharu gave a little gasp. Tomoyo hid her smile behind her hand.
At least Grandmother can still make me laugh, she thought. The truth was, Tomoyo herself didn't know what Nakuru experimented on. For a while she had suspected it was animals, but her grandmother cared too much for the woodland creatures to risk harming them.
Then Tomoyo had thought her grandmother experimented on herself, but that seemed too dangerous and ill-conceived to be true. At last she had come to terms with the fact that she likely would never know. I would tease her and say she experiments on the townspeople, but given their hatred of her, and her banishment, she would likely find it painful rather than humorous.
"Well, I believe that will be all for today," Nakuru said at last. Her voice sounded strong and clear, almost cheerful, but Tomoyo could see the pain and exhaustion in her eyes. In one day she had found one grandson and lost another.
Tomoyo rose and went to her grandmother, throwing her arms around her. The action startled Chiharu and Takashi, who were unused to seeing such open displays of affection.
"I'll be all right," Nakuru whispered against her ear.
Tomoyo nodded, sniffing slightly as she pulled away. Nakuru reached out a hand and caught one of her tears. "Do you need to stay here tonight?" she asked, eyes loving and concerned.
"No, I should go home. Father needs me more than ever."
"Then go, and be safe."
Chiharu and Takashi rose from their seats on the floor and said their good-byes. Together, the three of them left the cabin. Outside the cabin they parted ways. As Tomoyo faced the path she would take back through the woods, she shivered.
It was near dusk when the three left the cabin in the woods. Two went their own way, by a path known only to them, and they were safe. The third walked the same path she always walked, and the trees were afraid for her. It was not safe in the woods-- apredator lurked just out of her sight.
The trees whispered, the trees moaned, but still she ignored them. At last a wind whipped up, and as it passed through their limbs the trees began to shriek. She looked up, her face white with fear.
Yes, hurry home, child. Your father is waiting and the wolf is close behind. She broke into a trot and they whistled, encouraging her. Faster, he is close at hand. One of them sacrificed a branch, letting it fall scant feet from her. She screamed and began to run. Satisfied, the trees began to whisper again amongst themselves.
Tomoyo was drenched in sweat when she burst out of the forest. She panted as she slowed slightly, her eyes fixed on the village. Heart pounding, she forced her tired legs to keep moving.
Why am I so afraid? she wondered. 'Twas only a falling branch. No matter what she told herself, though, she couldn't shake the feeling that it had been something more than that. There are times when I hear something-- a whisper, a voice-- like the trees are trying to tell me something. She shuddered as she slowed at last to a walk. The first time I heard it was the day the wolf attacked.
She stopped just short of her home, not yet ready to go in and see her father and Touya. She stood, still winded, trying to banish the fear from her mind, but it was hopeless.
It doesn't matter what else I'm feeling, the fear is alway there. If I'm happy, there is still the fear. If I'm angry, there is still the fear. She closed her eyes and forced herself to breathe more slowly. And if I'm sad, the fear is overpowering. No matter how strong I am, how much I can lift, or how well I can fight, I'm still afraid.
She turned and glanced over her shoulder with a shudder. The trees looked like ghosts as the evening fog rolled in. They swayed and shook, though she felt no breeze. Haunted-- that's what the woods were, at least for her. For a moment she thought she saw something slipping between the trees, a gray phantom. It's just one of my ghosts, she thought. To me, there will alway be a wolf in these woods. She turned away and forced herself to take the last few steps home.