I'M SORRY!

Two days past the week deadline, four days past my
own... I'm sorry!  

But even though it's late, please enjoy it anyway.

Raye
-----------------------------------

Starlit Reflections: Dark Quarter 

by Raye Johnsen
raye_j@yahoo.com

*****
	Fushigi Yuugi is copyright Watase Yuu, Flower Comics,
Studio Perriot, Pioneer Entertainment, Viz
Communications and other interested parties.  The
characters and situation are used without permission
for personal entertainment only, and no copyright
infringements are intended.  No profit is being made
from this fic; if there was, Tasuki and Tamahome would
lighten me of it, as soon as they could.
*****

Chapter Four: On The Plains - Hikitsu


	"They say," Hikitsu once said, "that the hero only
dies one death, but a coward dies a thousand times."

	I replied, thoughtfully, "That seems awfully harsh on
all the people who aren't heroes."

	Hikitsu shrugged.  "I prefer to think of it as an
indictment on heroes, myself."

	"Why?" I asked.

	"Because it says that only cowards are bright enough
to anticipate and avoid dangerous situations."

*****

	The plains of central Hokkan are deceptive.  With all
these broad, flat expanses of land, apparently
well-watered by the broad rivers, a southerner might
well ask why they are great plains of grass, and not a
chequered gameboard of farmland.

	The answer lies in a combination of our geography and
our climate.  Our crisp weather is cooler than that of
the more southern nations, and warmth is needed for
the growth of crops.  Also, steady rainfall is
required for intensive farming - and the mountains
which border our country in the north and south often
block the rainclouds, pregnant with lifegiving rain,
which lie low in the sky.  The southernmost part of
Hokkan beyond the mountains, and our most eastern
regions, bordered by the sea, both enjoy regular and
plentiful rainfall.  It should be no surprise that
they are farmland, and produce the fine millets and
wheat that in their turn provide us all with flour for
bread, a foodstuff quite alien to the south.  

	To our west, where the mountains draw close together,
the rivers do not flow and the land is so poor that it
can only be called desert.  And the plains of the
centre are too dry to farm and too fine to ignore; so
there dwell the herding tribes who make up the most of
my people.

	We were going to run into them sooner or later. 
Between you and I, I would have preferred it to be
'later'.

*****

	I am absolutely convinced that Genbu was paying very
close attention to our progression, for that is the
only explanation I can provide to the fact that no
snow fell before us, to halt or slow our path; and
that we were not hampered by sleet nor storm nor
blizzard.  This was yet more remarkable, as we were
moving north during winter.

	Do not ever say the Gods do not know their peoples,
their lands, or their business; they may take steps to
teach you otherwise.

*****

	Hatsui and I, by unspoken accord, rode together
behind Takiko and Namame.

	I was not trustful of this new event, even taking
into account my jealousy.  It is one thing to fall
into a sudden, desperate attraction; such things
happen regularly and are sometimes even mutual.  But
this was somehow something more and deeper than a
passing crush, and its intensity was almost
frightening.

	True to Hatsui's leavening humour, Namame and Takiko
*had* blinked, and begun to speak - almost shyly, as
if each was afraid of what the other would do in
response, and receiving the words of the other as if
they were treasures studded with precious gems.

	I was caught between amusement at their hesitant
steps and exasperation at their lack of speed.  Takiko
had turned to Namame; I should be able to *see*
something that made the loss, if not worthwhile, then
at least explained.

	"I'm pleased they're taking it slowly," Hatsui told
me that evening, when I mentioned the matter, in a
roundabout fashion, and not mentioning my feelings of
jealous abandonment.  Takiko and Namame were out of
hearing range, but well within sight, fetching us
water for tea from the roadside well.  There was no
toll on this particular well, but they spent so much
time fussing over the bucket, they might as well be
negotiating the price.

	I sighed.  "I just wish they'd declare themselves, or
*something*," I said mournfully.  "They're in love
with each other -"

	"Are they really?" Hatsui said thoughtfully.

	I looked at him.

	He looked at me, and his eyes were hooded in the
evening sunlight.  "Uruki, I've never said this, but
you're really an innocent little girl who doesn't have
a clue about the real world."  He blew at a puff of
smoke that was drifting near his face.  "In the bottom
of your mind, you believe in True Love and Honesty and
Justice and all that rubbish."

	"... it isn't rubbish," I said faintly, staring at
the fire between us.

	"My point exactly."

	"I mean it," I said, looking him in the eyes and
glaring at him.  "It *isn't* rubbish!  You *hear* the
truth - that means it *has* to exist!  Your own
existence is proof of it."

	Hatsui shook his head with a rueful grin.  "Yes,
mistress," he murmured with mock respect.

	"And don't do that.  You're *not* a Court eunuch!"

	"Oh, I know *that*," he said, in the oddest tone of
voice.  

	Namame and Takiko returned (with a full bucket)
before I could ask him what he meant.

*****

	I decided to talk to Takiko the next morning.  So I
rode up beside her as we set off the next day.

	Namame was on her other side (of course), but I
decided to ignore that.  It wasn't like I could wave
my hand and dismiss him.  He seemed to understand my
feelings, though, and gracefully retired to Hatsui's
side.

	The glares I aimed at him may have helped somewhat.

	"You don't like Namame, Uruki," Takiko accused me
mildly as he withdrew.

	"Whatever gave you that idea?  He's a perfectly
pleasant young man," I replied calmly.  "It's just
that I haven't had the chance to talk to you for a
while."

	Takiko winced.  "I *see*," she muttered.

	We rode in uncomfortable silent for a few minutes,
and then I smiled.  "Look over there!"

	Takiko looked, and frowned.  "I don't see anything."

	"Over here," I said, looking down at the side of the
road.  Takiko rode over to me, and then recoiled. 
"Oh," she said faintly.

	I blinked up at her.  "What is wrong, Takiko? 
They're grass pythons - Genbu's sacred snake."

	"There - aren't any snakes in Japan," she said
softly.  I didn't hear the edge of horror in her
voice.  I will always wonder what would have happened
if I had.  Could I have prevented what would be?

	But I didn't hear, and I didn't look up to see the
expression on her face as I dismounted and slid my
hand into the knot.  Poor things, they were hungry for
any scrap of warmth before the snows flew and they
entered their long sleep through the winter, and so
they crept over my hands and twisted around my wrists.
 Their soft, dry skins tickled as they ran over the
back of my hands, and I laughed at the sensation.

	"What is it?" Hatsui called, from where he and Namame
were riding behind us.

	"Come and look - both of you!" I called gayly,
smiling as the snakes wove around my hands.

	They did, and I raised my eyes to Namame's.  With a
smile of rueful apology, I said, "Come and pat them. 
They're perfectly friendly."

	Hatsui was faster in dismounting than Namame, and
strolled over to unwind a few of the snakes from my
hands.  "Grass pythons?" he said.  "But isn't it a bit
late for them?"

	"Genbu is smiling on us," I replied happily.

	"I agree.  This is definitely the best of all
possible omens," Namame said.  He looked up at me and
smiled, a gentle smile of forgiveness.  Reaching down
into the knot himself, he let the black-and-green
snakes creep over his skin, smiling at the touch of
the rough edges of their scales.  Yes, they were ready
for hibernation, and it would likely only be a few
more hours before they curled up in their burrow, fat
on rats and mice, and began to sleep the winter out,
growing in peace and stretching their skins to the
breaking point.  Fine snakeskins would be lying on the
ground here, come spring, and I resolved that I'd come
back and find them.

	None of us paid attention to the fact that Takiko
remained mounted and silent.

*****

	The truly painful thing about journeying that nobody
ever tells you is the way that, when you are in towns,
you sleep in inns (or houses) with beds, which have
pillows and mattresses; and, when you are not in
towns, you sleep on the ground, on a pad fashioned of
blankets, covered by another.  If you are wise enough
to purchase one, another option is a padded sack, made
to the dimensions of a human; these roll up to much
the same size as a bulky blanket and are infinitely
more convenient.  You're still lying on the ground,
though.

	The contrast is very painful.  But you don't have to
believe me.  Ask Namame.  He and I commiserated all
afternoon as we rode north again.

	Takiko had been very quiet after we had eaten our
noon meal.  I don't think she was very happy about the
way Hatsui, Namame and I kept giving titbits to the
snakes.

	I don't regret it though.  I still felt jealous of
Namame, but it was nowhere near as virulent as it had
been earlier; it was as if the pythons had reminded me
that he was as much my brother as Hatsui, and so, as
we had stroked these small reminders of our God, I had
begun to speak to him.  Our conversation remained
light, but still... it was better than it had been.

*****

	We came upon a tribe of herders that afternoon.

	The large, circular felt tents that custom decrees
for the herders of the plains aren't the most
efficient design in the world.  However, the people of
the plains have lived in them for hundreds of years;
and custom is inviolate.  We do things which we have
done for hundreds of years *because* we have done them
for hundreds of years.  Logic does not come into the
question.

	The encampment of the nomad tribe seemed no different
to any of the other tribes I'd seen from the wall
around the Great Khan's palace, but with one
significant difference.

	They were herding horses.

	The scholars may discuss the gold and gemstone
deposits in the southern mountains to their heart's
content.  Tutors may speak of the rich alluvial soil
of the south and east all they like.  To me and the
majority of my countrymen, our horses are our greatest
wealth.  The proud arch of their necks as they toss
their manes - the sure step on their strong hooves -
the fiery light of the sun through flickering tails -
the beauty of a well-bred, well-trained horse is
unmatched in all the world.

	We rode down on our little ponies - and how little
they looked, when compared to their full-sized
cousins! - and introduced ourselves.  We were welcomed
and invited to stay for the night.

	With that out of the way, I was able to do a little
exploring, and I'm sure that it is understandable how
I managed to end up beside the fence of the
riding-horses' enclosure.

	"They're beautiful, aren't they?" Takiko said, from
behind me.

	"Oh, yes," I agreed fervently.

	She seemed uncomfortable, shifting from foot to foot,
so I decided to make it easier on her.  "I'm sorry
that we made such a fuss over the pythons at
noontime."

	She seemed taken aback, so I continued.  "I should
have realized you were uncomfortable with them -"

	"No, no!" she interrupted me.  "It was all right. 
There was no need to stop you.  I'm just not used to
snakes.  That was all."

	I looked at her, she at me, and we both smiled at
each other.  I knew what she hadn't said, and she
seemed to understand that I'd been out of sorts.  She
held out her hand, and I took it.

	"Well, well, what have we here?" the tribe's
headman's son came strolling up, with two other young
men behind him.

	I let go of Takiko's hand, reluctantly, and stepped
away from her.  "Admiring the horses," I said as
calmly as I could.  "They are beautiful."

	"As beautiful as *us*?" one of the boys leered.  I
took a step back, further away, and was gratified to
see their eyes following me, and not Takiko as she
quietly eased away from the group.

	"I think there's no sight quite like a beautiful
horse," I replied evasively, and took another step
back.  Unfortunately, this brought me right up to the
fence.  The boys saw it and encircled me.  I
swallowed.  My only consolation was that Takiko was
well away by now.

	"I'm sure I can change your mind," the headman's son
leered.

	"I'm not," I retorted, and quickly climbed to the top
of the fence.  I took a flying leap off the thin
wooden paling and landed awkwardly on a young roan
mare.  Sitting up as fast as I dared, I saw the three
boys scrambling over the fence.  Without another
thought, I kicked the poor mare.  Hard.

	The horse charged off, over the plains, and I hung on
for dear life.  I was an idiot! I berated myself as
the frightened horse fled.  I had only learnt to ride
less than a month ago, and now I was trying to ride
with neither bit nor saddle!  I couldn't tell the
horse where to go, much less to slow down and let me
off - I should never have tried this!

	The only thing I could think of to do was hang on
until the mare tired herself out, and then when she
stopped running, let myself fall off.  It wouldn't be
long, I told myself.  After all, I am a weight, and
she's obviously not used to running with a rider.

	What I did not know at the time was that there's a
difference between 'galloping' and 'running'.  The
first is a gait that, while it is very fast and does
spend a lot of the horse's energy, is a natural part
of a horse's life and so can be sustained for quite a
while.  The second is an instinctive response to
danger and is faster but can't be kept up by a horse
for a long period of time.

	The mare had started out running, but had adjusted to
a gallop.  I wasn't *that* heavy, so she would
probably have been able to keep it up for quite a long
time... if the ice wall hadn't snapped up directly in
front of her.  She saw the jagged sheet of ice
suddenly spring up in front of her, and reared.  I,
like the complete tyro that I was, let go of her mane;
and as she flung me off, I watched the rough hair arc
and fall against her neck.

	Silly horse will end up breaking her neck, I thought
dreamily; and then with a knock so quick it didn't
even hurt, the darkness swallowed me.

*****

	It *did* hurt, very much so, when I woke.

	"Don't move," a male voice, gently admonishing,
chided me.  "You've got quite a nasty bump."

	"Takiko?  Hatsui?  Namame?" I asked blankly.  I
didn't try to open my eyes.  I could feel a cold
compress over them, so trying to open them wouldn't
have done me much good anyway.  "My head hurts," I
inanely commented to the unknown man.

	The man seemed to pause.  For a long second I
couldn't hear him do anything.  Then the soft
splashing of water in a stone basin resumed.  "What is
your name?" he asked me softly.

	"Uruki," I said.  "Well, actually, it's Mei Ling, but
I'm Genbu Shichiseishi Uruki, and I'm accompanying the
Priestess of Genbu, so I'm not really Mei Ling, not
until we call Genbu.  And I don't think I'll be Mei
Ling then either, because I can't go back, can I? 
*They've* seen to that.  I wasn't a threat to anyone,
he didn't even *notice* me!  Why did they have to do
that?"  I was babbling, but I couldn't stop myself.

	"It's all right," he said soothingly.  "Being Uruki
isn't bad, is it?"  He gently lifted the compress from
my eyes, and I blinked them open.  The figure bending
over me was fuzzy, but he gradually came into focus.

	An elegant, fine-boned face greeted me.  Fine
grey-white hair hung down around his face, and his
thin lips were smiling at me.  His left eye was a
clear and steady grey, while his right....

	I couldn't help myself.  I reached up and gently
touched the tears that flowed down his cheek, welling
up in a futile, instinctive attempt to soothe the
burning of the symbol graven on the eye.

	Yet he was smiling, though the skin around his lips
was taut with pain.

	"*My* name is Chen Emtato," he said softly, "but I
prefer to be called Hikitsu."

*****

Author's Notes:

	1. The Manchurians *did* cultivate flour-producing
grains and eat bread rather than rice; I didn't make
it up.  The climate of Northern China is too dry and
too cool to grow rice.  After their conquest of China,
the Manchu chose to emphasise this difference.  So
during the later part of the Qing, whether rice or
bread was served at his table was an indicator of a
noble's ancestry and how much pride he took in it.

	2. It was the practice in China for families to sink
wells within their own properties and fetch their
water from that private source.  When a man sank a
well outside an enclosed property and permitted the
public to use it, it was usual for him to charge those
who drew water from it a small fee for the privilege. 
However, for various reasons (varying from the
goodness of the builder's heart to the builder dying
without passing guardianship of the well on), it
wasn't all that uncommon for a well to be free of
charge, either.

	3. Snakes are *not* good news in Japan!  They do not
occur naturally there, and what snakes there are, are
brought in by collectors and are kept in captivity. 
In the Japanese mindset, snakes are considered
disgusting and dirty (much like rats in the West). 
Their image is much more positive in mainland Asia.

=====
raye_j@yahoo.com
http://www.thejohnsens.com/index.html

"It went away? 'I dwell in darkness without you'
and it WENT AWAY?!"
   - Sorcha, 'Willow'

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