Free The Golden Naginata by Jessica Amanda Salmonson Page B

attendant. Her hair was covered with a peasant’s towel; Tomoe suspected the girl was hiding the fact that there was very little hair under that towel. Most likely she served a nearby temple, which was why her hair was short, but she had run away for wont of romance. It was a common story. And the fate of such girls was generally sad. The young samurai was dressed for travel and, though he might have been sincere in meeting her during Star Festival, he obviously could not legitimize any relationship. A month later, the girl would almost certainly be a geisha’s attendant, learning a more harrowing trade than temple chores.
    Tomoe noted these things without attempting to judge.
    When the samurai raised his face in her direction, Tomoe’s muscles tensed. She recognized him, though they’d never met previously. His name was Ryoichi Nomoto. His name and his face were one of the ten burnt into her memory by the ghost of the Imperial Swordsmith.
    For the barest moment, the two samurai met eye to eye. The youth looked away first, disturbed.
    The innkeeper hurried back into the room with a bottle of freshly warmed saké. “A present!” he said. “It is the best I have, and not too bad—the least I can offer you for seeing an end to my poor inn’s troubles!”
    The young samurai and his girlfriend were moving toward the end of the elevated floor to get their shoes. Tomoe had only tasted her meal which the innkeeper had made special. She pushed the tray aside and let the innkeeper pour her a tiny cup of saké, which she drank. She held the cup out to be refilled. As he poured the second cup, Tomoe whispered, “Because I appreciate your hospitality, I must leave quickly before blood is spilled on this clean floor.”
    The little man frowned and quaked. He looked around his shoulder and spied the young couple moving slyly toward the exit. He scooted out of Tomoe’s way while she drank the second cup of saké. After she shook out the empty cup and set it aside, she nodded a brisk appreciation to the innkeeper then stood up. He rushed ahead of her so that he could place her sandals on the step.
    As she went out after the departing pair, Tomoe pulled the longsword and scabbard into place in her obi, and tied her hat so that it hung on her back. The street was damp from a brief rain during the night, but already the sky was clear and the morning pleasantly warm. Most of the people of the district were not yet out, since so many had been up late with celebrations.
    The young samurai looked back with eyes large. He pulled the girl after him, hurrying toward a small, enclosed shrine where it would be a sin for Tomoe to shed his blood. The youth’s fondness for the girl hindered his speed; her kimono was tight-fitting and she could not move with long strides. Tomoe overtook the couple without having to hurry.
    The girl, in payment for her lover’s kindness in not leaving her behind, shielded the samurai with her own body. Tomoe’s sword was drawn, but she was reluctant to kill the innocent protectress.
    â€œDon’t kill him!” the girl exclaimed. “It was my fault!”
    â€œI have not come because of your illicit affair,” said Tomoe. “I have come because this youth took part in the affairs of murder.”
    The youth’s eyes grew larger still. The girl said, “It isn’t true! Ryoichi is too gentle!”
    â€œWas Ryoichi accompanied when he came to the temple from which you ran away?” Tomoe did not wait for the girl to answer, since the answer was obvious. She said, “They came to purify themselves after the crime!”
    Even with Tomoe’s evidence, the girl would not move aside. Tomoe’s sword raised until it was poised above her head. She took a step forward, indicating that she would kill the girl if necessary. The young assassin shrank behind his shield.
    â€œSpare Ryoichi!” she pleaded. “Take my life