Now Kaminari watched her, eyes black as coal, reflecting the world he saw unto itself. Watched in silence as she came and said to him, good morning, and began her chores, sweeping, rearranging hay, cleaning pails, and hauling in fresh water. It was a kind of home, she thought, this little compound near the keep; the thatched roof, the tiny pallet in the side-room for her bed, the lords and their horses, and the Betto and his aides; and now, herself. Within an hour, the other hands had started to arrive, and the Betto came, wiped his face, and cracked his shoulders, saying: “Let’s begin.”
The air turned. Another week passed, and she began to feel, if not happy, at least surprised. Surprised to find herself in a kind of settled place, a place where she had work, responsibility, a sense of what the days would bring. She didn’t know if it felt permanent. She was busy with the duties she now had. Her days fell to a rhythm, marked with the patterns of stable-life, and the meals they gave her in the courtyard. A wistful feeling came over her at night, a feeling that asked,Is this, after everything, your life?
It drifted through her, a sensation now like looking off a peak, a wideexpanse below, a stretch of earth that felt like it was waiting. It said to her,Maybe this is where you start.
“Lord’s son returns,” the Betto said one morning, two months after she’d arrived. He indicated the group of crow monks on the path toward Kitaiji temple. The stable gate filled with bright wind and a rush of early-winter snow, and she was in the midst of raking hay when the Betto called, “They’re coming. Hurry on.” She went to the barrel, tried to wipe the dirt off her face; he whispered, “It’s Hakaru, for inspection. Say not a thing.”
Then, the door opened.
What they never tell you, Granny Chie used to say,is gods are monsters, too. What they never tell you is, when lords are born as stewards of the land, they take it as their right. They take for granted everyone must love them. So they act as those with power always do; each step they take, the ground belongs to them. Each house they enter is their own. A glance, however fleeting, is either invitation or the threat of a rebuke.Look at them, you’ll learn what power is, no’in said.Touch them, you might not see tomorrow.
The kijin strode into the stable, examining their horses and offering praise – or reprimand – as they deemed fit. “You’re not getting them out enough,” Hakaru scolded. “They’ll grow weak, they don’t get any exercise.”
“Lord,” the Betto bowed, “but with the weather… Lightning don’t suit the horses well…”
“And yet,” Hakaru mused, “my brother names his ‘Kaminari’. After the thunder. So?”
Rui tensed, her rake in hand. They were mere paces away; in a moment he would see her, would recognize the girl who’d stood against him at the ring. And then… What would he do? Punish her? His brother had invited her here to work; she’d done nothing wrong. But still. She gripped the handle.
“It’s you.”
His voice cut through the cool air. Kaminari snickered. She held him by the reins. “Easy, easy, boy…”
“You,” Hakaru said again, with half a laugh. “So my brother got you after all. Well done. I should’ve come here sooner.”
What could she say? She bowed her head. “Thank you, ame’in.”
“Ah. Don’t worry,” he said. “I’m not angry.” He walked a lazy circle, giving his brother’s horse a friendly pat. “You’re famous, here, you know. Everyone’s talking. The no’in who stood up to a general.”
“I didn’t know,” she said, “you were a general.”
“This makes a difference?”
She reddened.
“You know, we watch you,” he said, “my clan. We say, ‘Everyone deserves a chance.’ We take pride, here, in our work; so should you. But from what I see, there’s no worry as to that. You handle horses better than my stablehands.”
“I’ve been around horses my whole life, ame’in.”
“Then you should be proud to be here.”
“Yes, ame’in.”
He paced closer. “You know,” he said, “most no’in shiver and bow into the dirt when we come by. Yet, you do not.”
“If I’ve done something to offend…”
“You stood before us at the shooting grounds.”
“I – was raised in a temple. Dogs, foxes, they’re messengers, for O-ine. And, I was raised… It’s cruel to…”
“It’s my right.”
“Then your rights are cruel.”
She’d spoken once again before she meant to, and braced herself for his response. But instead, Hakaru laughed.
“Our lands are truly blessed,” he said. “Even the no’in have real heart. They’re pretty, too.”
