Kaguta - Or, Ankūro - The Warrior, The Thief and The Killer

5

In the darkest nights,
Above, skies are not empty.
Stars remain there yet.
- Bushubō.

She took a circuitous route to return to the village, rushing the entire way. With the hobbling effect of the Nakura dress, the clumsy height of the clogs, raised on two slats of wood to counter the previously regular feature of muddied roads, she soon began to fight for breath. As she intended from the beginning.

With her training, back in Akāi, she had pushed herself to a point where she only exhausted herself after long sessions with her instructors. Her lungs had built up a strong capacity and she could run and fight as long as any man, for longer than most. For this endeavour, however, she needed to appear as though she had run for some time, like a rabbit hunted by dogs.

She had a passing knowledge of the area, from previous, short visits with her father, and then her brother, and she knew that Haūdo Inishō's arch-rival, Haūdo Oboni, held the lands to the south. This village had once sat within Oboni's Yanshi region, now the spoils of war. This knowledge could prove the weight that tipped the scales of her story to believability.

The entrance to the village, at night, held only two guards, stood between two braziers upon tall poles. Kō had paused to survey the area, her chest heaving against the tight material of the Nakura. Instead of controlling her breathing, as taught by her instructors, she made fast, short breaths, exacerbating her exhaustion, before moving out to approach the guards.

In Akāi, she had had the pleasure of watching many plays, observing the actors. She had even participated in a few, the privileges of her former station allowing her to force herself into the plays. She knew how people, men, expected women to act while distressed and she prayed to the Divines that she had learnt well.

At first, the guards failed to see her, stumbling out of the dark, weaving and almost tumbling to her knees, taking broken, intermittent steps. They had stood at their post for hours, now, and had begun to tire of the duty. To catch their attention, Kō let out a low, weeping moan, holding out her hand towards them as she clutched the front of the Nakura that she had loosened as she had neared, tugging the material enough to show the upper flesh of her chest.

Swords became drawn as the guards raced towards her. Upon seeing her state, they paused, hesitating as they took in the sight of her bruised, dishevelled appearance. With a perfectly timed step, Kō tripped, flinging herself into the arms of the youngest of the guards.

"Help me! Please!" As she collapsed to her knees, clinging to the young man, she began to sob against his legs, fingers clutching at the material. "They hurt me! They would not give me an honourable death! They ... they ... took me!"

"Control yourself, woman!" The older guard gripped the collar of the Nakura, trying to pull her from his colleague. "You make a scene unworthy of yourself."

The younger guard returned his sword to the scabbard, brushing the hand of the older guard from Kō's collar. Dropping to one knee, he held her shoulders, trying to dip his head to look into Kō's face. She had applied dirt to her skin, along the way, and had damaged her face even more, against the dried, sharp bark of trees. She could imagine what she looked like.

"Lady? Who? Who did this to one so beautiful?" The hand of the young guard lifted to her face and then stopped, pulling back as he saw the extent of her injuries. His fingers clenched into a shaking fist. "Who would treat a beautiful woman so?"

"Soldiers! Not kind, honourable soldiers as you are." She placed her own hand upon the young man's chest, closing her fingers a slight, teasing his skin beneath the material of his jacket. "Lord Oboni's soldiers. They held me for days. Used me. Oh! They took my hair! My beautiful hair!"