The Black Son

The Black Son ~ Chapter 1

It was one of the oddest sights Mariko had ever seen. So much so that it brought her labours (sweeping the front of her home) to a halt. But in truth her labours were so menial that it didn't take much to stop her from doing them; it usually only took a passer-by for the woman to strike up a whimsical conversation if for nothing else than to break up the monotony of her day. But she was the wife of the Village Magistrate, which had its responsibilities and being cordial was her primary one. However the situation that now had her attention involved a stranger. He was walking toward the main entrance of the village. Which taken by itself isn't all that compelling. What made this man strange was he was guiding a fine horse, and he was walking with a decided limp. Also the closer he came, Mariko noticed that while his clothes were of the finest quality they were covered in mud. He was obviously a high ranking Samurai who had either fallen or had been thrown from his horse. So Mariko put away her broom, straightened her clothes, and ran a hand across her hair to feel if anything was out of place. Once complete, she set out to meet the stranger at the arch and tried not to make her smile too obvious.

However, as the man came closer, her smile faded. The clothes were indeed splendid; in fact they were dazzling, made of the richest silk and resplendent with designs. He was more than a Samurai, obviously and he had to have come from the Provincial Capital. Now Mariko was becoming nervous, as no Official had ever ventured to her village before, let alone unannounced. It was all too strange, especially as her husband was in the Capital already. Why this visit? If it was a visit at all. The man came closer. He kept his face to the ground, as he hobbled along and dragged his mount behind him. The animal was being difficult, and continually pulled at the bridle, for which the stranger would turn and hiss at the creature. He stopped right in front of Mariko and after taking a deep breath, the young man raised his head and put on a bright smile.

"Good day."

Mariko suddenly lost her capacity for speech, but not due to the odd-ness of the situation, but because the stranger was, well, the most beautiful man she had ever seen. So beautiful that she lost all of her composure and began to stammer like a young girl.

"Well, yes," She coughed, "It is a good day at that," Her voice cracked, "My lord." Added after a quick thought.

Taking another breath, "Is it possible for me to hitch my horse to that house hard by and impose on the owner for some water?"

That home was Mariko's but the way she carried on made it seem that it belong to someone else.

"Of course, my Lord. Please come inside and rest yourself."

"Many thanks, Hime."

His bow was deep and gracious, more than was needed from a man of his rank to a commoner. But what made Mariko draw back was how he had addressed her. In all her days under the sun she had never been addressed with the title of 'Hime', never by a commoner, let alone by a lord. Her nervousness increased ten-fold.

She tied the horse to a post and ran her hand across the saddle; it too was fine and expensive. Mariko also noticed a delicate inlaid motif of the Black Sun Mon of their Liege Lord, Hikiji. Mariko began to worry. She wondered what the strange man wanted. So she set out to find out what that was, in the hopes that once he had it he would depart just as quickly. She watched the man intently. His demeanour wasn't stiff and rigid as other high born samurai. He had a full head of hair that went below his shoulders; his topknot was just as long and hung down the back of his head and tied at the end with a thick red cord. At first he begged off the water and set out to tend his 'wounds'. He had lifted his hakama and rubbed his knee and thigh, which prompted him to grimace. There was mud on his skin and some blood as well.