To Slaughter A Lamb

Chapter 2: Killing a Killer

Mizu shook me awake, nearly giving me a heart attack. I opened my mouth to speak, yet he put his calloused hand over my lips before I could make a sound. Raising a finger to his lips, signaling for me to stay quiet, he then quietly made his way to the door. His hand was on the hilt of his katana as he exited.

There was silence for a few moments, then, suddenly, there was a struggle. The sound of grunting and clashing metal echoed from the hall onto the room. I grabbed my daggers, unsheathing them, yet standing still. Despite my years of training, I knew I was woefully unprepared for a real fight.

Just as the brawl seemed to die down, the door to the room swung open. I sprung to my feet as I saw a man enter. He presented a piece of paper to me that I couldn't make out.

"Now, shall we take the princess dead or alive?" He said menacingly, drawing a katana from his belt.

Without a second thought I threw one of the daggers at him, hitting him in the eye. His body froze for a moment, then fell to the floor with a loud thud. The noise in the hall way had finally subsided. I tip toed towards his body, a part of me fearing he would come back to life. 

"Well look at you, princess," Mizu remarked as he entered the room.

I stayed silent as I picked up the piece of paper the man had been holding. I felt my heart drop as a saw it's contents: a painting of me with a bounty.

It didn't say who wanted me, but the fact that they did was troubling. Especially since, except for my father's most loyal acquaintances and workers, no one was supposed to know definitely of my existence at all. The mix raced daughter of Lord Kinoshito was supposed to be nothing more than a rumor.

  I looked up at Mizu, who felt like my only hope. He looked surprisibgly unscathed. Only a few scratches could be seen on his face. He took the paper from my hand and eyed it carefully, then took the dagger from the man's eyesocket and wiped it clean with the sheet of paper.

"I wouldn't worry about that," he said, handing the dagger back. "Keep those on you."

I did as the man suggested, tucking the daggers into my obi and hiding them under my robe, pulling it tight around me as we exited into the cold morning air. As we walked through the streets of the little town, with him covering his eyes, and me my hair, I felt reassurance in our shared secrets. I smiled softly under the hood I wore.

My smile soon faded once I realized another way that I had been linked to the warrior, to all worriors: I had now taken a man's life.

Rather his than my own, yet the color of everything around me has become muted ever since. My father had told me that taking a life changes you, and his wisdom was once again proven to be true.

"Mizu," I whispered, despite the streets being nearly empty.

"Yes?"

"How do I cope?" I asked. "I never thought I'd kill someone."

He went silent for a few moments, then said "There is no need to cope. You did the world a favor."

That was a crass way to put it, but I had no rebuttal. I stayed silent until nightfall once more,  as I did through many of the first days on our journey.

I looked up at the sky, now bright blue. I uttered a silent prayer for the man I had killed, hoping that one of the gods would hear me. Even the wicked deserved for their souls to rest eventually.