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Date Posted: 01:01:05 02/04/08 Mon
Author: Rox
Author Host/IP: c-24-9-183-109.hsd1.co.comcast.net / 24.9.183.109
Subject: Overlord
In reply to: Rox 's message, "Overlord" on 00:24:24 02/04/08 Mon

CHAPTER ONE

The soft cotton tabi on his feet made no sound as the Shogun's messenger trod across the highly polished, wooden floors of Daimyo Mikel's dojo. He bowed towards the dais, where Mikel was seated at his desk, before falling to one knee and holding out a folded, sealed communiqué.

Mikel returned the messenger's bow with a slight nod of his head, before waving the messenger closer and retrieving the paper from his hand.

"Good to see you again, Mejin," Mikel said as he broke the wax seal and unfolded the Shogun's message.

"And you as well, Daimyo," the Shogun's messenger replied with a smile. He bowed a second time then watched respectfully as Mikel read the Shogun's letter.

"I've been summoned to court?" Mikel said, somewhat puzzled. "And I am not to bring my contingent?"

"Hai! I have the honor to be your escort," Mejin replied solemnly and bowed low a third time.

Mikel carefully refolded the message and set it aside. To be called to court without his complement of soldiers was tantamount to being arrested. He raised his eyes to the messenger standing before him, searching for some sign, some clue to why the Shogun might be angry with him, but he found nothing in the messenger's benign expression.

Getting to his feet, with his right hand resting on the hilt of his wakiezashi, Mikel withdrew the sword and its accompanying scabbard and set them on the desk, before reaching for the longer katana.

Mejin put out his hand, but did not touch him. "Daimyo, it is the will of the Shogun that you keep your weapons."

Even more puzzled, Mikel said, "I am happily obedient to His will." He retrieved the wakiezashi and replaced it next to his katana, before asking, "Do I have time to dress for court?"

"Hai," Mejin returned, with a nod of his head. "I shall await you sir, in your garden."

"I shall send Maiko to attend to your refreshment. My home is yours."

The two men faced each other and gave each other another formal bow before parting.
#

Kurou-Jo, the castle of Shogun Musashi, was one of the twelve remaining historical castles of Nippon and was still beautiful in its antiquity. The western wall and the gardens were rebuilt after the War of Annihilation of 2012, (Old Calendar), but the castle itself survived unscathed and became the seat of power for the 5th Shogunate of Nippon, and home to Musashi, the 5th Shogun of the Council of Twelve.

Lord Mikel and Mejin rode their horses side by side through the castle’s great stone gate. Mikel, atop Kuro his tall, black stallion glanced down at Mejin whose armor was decorated in bright reds and yellows and almost smiled. Mejin’s smaller brown stallion seemed to prance and skip like a puppy wanting attention at his side. On both sides of the gate, the Shogun's subjects bowed low to honor and welcome the arriving warriors.

As they arrived inside the gate, their horses were held as they dismounted. A messenger bowed, greeted them, and then led them inside the castle and through the darkened hallways to the small, teak-lined audience chamber.

"My instructions were that you were to meet with the Shogun unaccompanied," Mejin said, as they stood just outside the door of the room. He bowed and left Mikel to enter alone.

Mikel slipped inside, proceeded down the center of the room until he beheld the shogun's empty throne. He seated himself in front of the throne on the tatami mats that covered the polished teak floors, before removing his helmet and setting it aside. Moments later, the shogun entered and Mikel bowed low before him.

"Good day, Scholar," the Shogun said, as he seated himself on the carved wooden throne.

"I am your servant, Lord," Mikel said quietly, raising his head to look his mentor in the eye.

"You look puzzled, Mikel," Musashi said.

"I am. May I know the reason I have been called to court?"

"Must I have a reason for calling you here?"

"It's been my experience that you never do anything without a reason."

"What if I asked you here…to take your head?"

Mikel sat up straight with his right hand resting across his two swords and his left resting on his thigh. Without a word he withdrew both weapons and placed them on the floor in front of him. Bowing his head over the swords, he clasped his hands behind his back. "It's always been yours to take."

The Shogun stood, unsheathed his katana, and stood over Mikel's head, but instead of a death blow, he tapped the flat of the blade once on Mikel's shoulder. With a murmur of approval, Musashi sheathed his sword.

"Your courage and loyalty honor me. Come. We shall have tea. I have much to speak to you about."

The two men retired to a small tea room and set aside their weapons.

"Akigawa is dead without a son to rule in his stead," Musashi began as he took of sip of his tea. "This leaves the southern frontier without a protector."

"Akigawa was a young man. How did he die?"

"A sudden illness. His wife, sister and brother also

"Just the family?" Mikel asked. He paused in taking a sip of his tea, somewhat taken aback by the news.

"Yes." The Shogun's expression was pointedly skeptical.

"Do you want me to investigate the matter?"

"Hai! The loss of two women of child bearing age is a great misfortune. If it was murder, the murderer must be found and punished. But, I have more to tell you of importance. A vote was held by all the shoguns in the council. You have been chosen to take over Akigawa's shogunate."

"To hold it until another shogun is elected?"

Musashi smiled. "No, you are to hold it until your son inherits."

For a moment Mikel felt a surge of elation. "Have you changed the laws allowing me to marry?"

"The laws remain. You cannot have a Nipponese wife. Our blood-lines must remain pure."

Elation melted into quiet resignation. "Then, I am to adopt a son?"

"You know the laws of succession require a child of your own blood." The Shogun smiled again as he took another sip of tea.

Mikel's confusion deepened.

With a laugh, Musashi relented. "Scholar, I do not toy with you. I am giving you a castle, an army to hold it, and a wife to bear you children of your own. But she is not Nipponese." The Shogun rose to his feet. "Come and meet your bride."

Mikel stared in awe through a screened window. In the castle garden stood a young woman, with hair the color of ripened wheat and skin, pale as cream. And she was tall, towering over the other women in the garden.

"Who is she?"

The Shogun shrugged. "A ship ran aground south of Kouchi. There were four people aboard, three men and a woman. All of them of your race. We don't know where they came from, but we believe they speak English. Mejin recognized a few of her words. He said you’ve been instructing him in it.”

"Yes, I’ve been teaching Kenji and Lady Ayame as well." Mikel stared at the woman in fascination.

"Is she to your liking? She has eyes the color of the sky. I have never seen that before." The Shogun peered over Mikel's shoulder at the lithe young woman who paced restlessly around the garden. "You must, of course, submit to the law. She cannot be taken against her will and she can have other husbands, if she so chooses. There are the other men from the ship, but perhaps they are related to her already."

Mikel turned to his liege lord and bowed low. "You do me great honor."

"You have earned it, Scholar. It is not good for a man to be without the comfort of a woman. But with so few women…you understand the reason for the law?" Musashi’s tone was apologetic as he rested his hand on Mikel’s shoulder.

"Yes, I understand," Mikel said.

"There is one other thing…I have another assignment for you."

"You have but to ask."

"I want you to take a group of your best students into Tokyo and learn what you can of the old world."

"So you agree it is time to try?” Mikel’s elation bloomed anew. Next to having a wife, exploring a sealed city had been his greatest wish.

"Yes, the Council has finally agreed. As you’ve said, it’s been a hundred years. Surely the city is safe to enter by now."

CHAPTER TWO


It was late afternoon and Nikita Jones was left to fend for herself in the castle gardens. She tugged at the tight-fitting kimono and rebelliously kicked off the sandals and the soft cotton tabi, preferring to pace the warm grass in her bare feet. She surveyed her surroundings with great despair. While spring flowers grew in well-tended plots, in a riot of rainbow hues, and cherry trees snowed pink blossoms into the air, the garden was also framed by gray, castle walls, making it her prison.

She wanted her father. She wanted to go home. For days she'd plotted ways to escape, only to realize even if she was successful, she had no idea how to find her father or get back to their boat. And what of her Uncle Walter and her friend Jurgen? Where had they been taken? Were any of them still alive?

An entire month had passed since a storm upended their sailboat and spilled them onto alien shores. They were immediately captured and then separated, with Nikita being taken three-weeks by horseback to the castle. In that time she learned a handful of words in the language of her captors, but not nearly enough to express her need to be reunited with her father, or her anger at being held.

At first, Nikita feared for her life and her virtue, but other than having her hands bound during the trip, no one had harmed her. But being well fed, clothed, and treated, was not enough to erase the fact that she was being held against her will. And for what purpose? What could they possibly want of her?

Nikita knelt beneath a cherry tree and stared up at the evening sky, as its blue slowly faded into lavender and rose. She wanted whatever was to happen to her, to happen quickly; the continuing uncertainty ate at her nerves.

A warm breeze perfumed by flowers caressed her face and then the sweet, wavering sound of a flute intruded on the quiet of the garden. Nikita turned towards the sound and saw a handsome young man seated beneath a willow tree. To her astonishment, he was not like the other people she'd seen since her arrival. His hair was henna-brown, not black, and fell in soft waves to his shoulders. He held the flute to his lips like a tender lover and kissed the air with a soulful melody that drew her to him.

Gathering her shoes in her hands, she tiptoed closer and wondered: Is he a prisoner too?

When the music faded to a close, Nikita stepped to where the young man could see her. He lifted olive-green eyes in her direction and gazed at her with a pleased expression.

"Hallo," he said in a quiet, oddly accented voice.

He spoke English? Nikita fell on her knees in front of him with wonder and gratitude. At last, someone who she could speak to; someone who could finally understand.

"Who are you? Are you a prisoner too?"

The young man frowned faintly, as if digesting her words with care, then answered, "My name is Mikel. And you are?"

Nikita burst into tears, covered her mouth with one hand, and then laughed.

"I'm sorry. I'm just so glad to hear English again. My name is Nikita, Nikita Jones." She put out her hand for him to shake then noticed a moment's hesitation on his part as if he did not recognize the custom. Thinking he may have been a prisoner for far longer than herself, she reached further and took his hand in hers.

Mikel held her hand, but did not shake it, choosing instead to examine it. His thumb rubbed across her skin before arranging her hand, palm to palm atop his own.

Nikita noted his skin was tan from the sun and his hand was slightly callused.

"Where are we?" she asked. "How long have you been here?"

"This is Kurou-Jo," he answered, his gaze moving back to her face. He paused for a long moment then added, "I arrived today."

While the young man’s speech was cultured, it was halting as if English was not his native tongue. Nikita took further note of his dress and was dismayed to see two swords tucked into his belt, just the same as her captors wore. Uncertain as to his true identity she abruptly withdrew her hand and stood.

"Are you a prisoner?" she inquired again, "or my jailer?"

"Nik-ki-ta." The man said each syllable softly as he continued to hold out his hand to her. "I am neither." He slowly got to his feet to face her.

"I want to know where my father is!" Nikita's hands balled as they clutched the material of her kimono.

"He is safe."

"Not good enough! I want to see him."

"He remains in Kouchi with the others." Mikel's head nodded in what Nikita assumed was the general direction.

"Why was I brought here? Why were we separated?"

"You were brought here for your protection," Mikel replied as if it perfectly understandable and natural.

"Protection from what?"

Mikel lowered his hand until it rested across the hilts of his two swords. He seemed nonplussed for the moment as to how to answer her.

Nikita watched him closely then took a small step backwards. Seeing her reaction, Mikel slipped the smaller sword still in its scabbard, from his belt. "Take this, if you are afraid," he said, offering it to her.

Suspicious, Nikita slowly reached for it. Then, when Mikel didn't withdraw it, she quickly yanked the sword from the scabbard and holding it in both hands, put the point of the blade against his throat.

"Now, take me to my father!" she said through her clenched teeth.

The sharp edge of the blade unleashed a trickle of blood down the side of Mikel's neck, but he didn't so much as flinch.

Nikita was startled when she saw him bleeding. It hadn't been her intent to hurt him, only to force him to listen. Still, she had committed herself to the action and kept the blade as steady as she could against his throat.

From across the garden a man called out in a laughing voice. Startled at the sudden interruption, Nikita turned her head to see who else was there, only to feel Mikel's hand quickly catch and firmly hold her wrist. When she turned back, she stood face-to-face, eye-to-eye with him. He took that moment to gently disarm her and then responded to the approaching man as if nothing of importance had happened.

As Mikel returned his sword to its scabbard, Nikita watched nervously as the laughing man arrived with a young girl in his arms. He was a slightly older man than Mikel, with black hair tied back in an intricate knot. He gazed at Nikita with amused, brown eyes.

Mikel greeted them with affection, first bowing to the man, then lifting his arms towards the little girl who looked to be about three years old. The child giggled and went willingly into them, then playfully kissed and patted his face. The two men and the little girl carried on a short conversation of which Nikita understood nothing, until Mikel turned to speak to her.

"May I introduce the Lady Kumiko and her father, Lord Musashi," she heard Mikel say. "Kurou-Jo is their home and you are their honored guest."

‘Honored guest?’ A sarcastic answer arose in Nikita’s throat but never left her lips as little Kumiko gave a sudden cry at discovering the blood on Mikel's neck. His response seemed to make light of the injury because the little girl’s dismay quickly transformed back into a smile.

Returning his attention to Nikita, Mikel added, "I am to escort you to supper this evening. Lord Musashi has many questions he hopes you will answer."

"Well, you can tell him, I have some questions I'd like answered as well," she retorted unhappily.

"Of course," he replied politely in a soft voice, then kissed Kumiko's cheek and handed her back to her father. His hands free, he bowed to Nikita and held out his hand once again. "Will you come, Suki?"

"Suki?" Nikita repeated, before reluctantly taking his hand. She saw Musashi smile knowingly as he turned away with his daughter, but Mikel did not bother to translate the word as he moved to follow.

#

Suki. Beloved.

Mikel caught himself staring at Nikita, but could not seem to help himself. She was everything he had ever dreamed of and more. In his eyes she was all things precious, but she seemed to count him as her enemy and for the moment there was nothing he could do to change that.

Her father and the other men were being interrogated and would not be allowed to see Nikita until Musashi was satisfied they posed no threat to Nippon and the people in his care.

Mikel dared not tell Nikita the only reason she had been separated from her father was so that Mikel could be provided with a bride. All of his hopes for having her for a wife, depended on having her choose him. She held his life in her hands, because if he lost her now….

"Mikel?”

Startled from his thoughts, Mikel turned towards the Shogun. "Lord?"

There was faint apology in Musashi's expression and Mikel realized with some chagrin that he had allowed his emotions to show. He forced himself to relax.

"Please ask your Lady, what brought her to Nippon?"

Mikel quietly repeated the Shogun's question to Nikita and waited for her answer.

"An accident. A storm blew us off course and we ran aground," she replied unsmiling.

"Where did you sail from?"

There was a brief pause before she said, "Australia.”

Mikel repeated the word then added in Japanese, "I have maps showing the location of her land. It is very far from Nippon."

"Ask her how many there are of her people."

Mikel turned to Nikita and repeated his Lord’s question.

"Lots. Many more than I've seen here."

Mikel saw that the Shogun was troubled by Nikita's answer. The survival of the people of Nippon depended greatly on keeping the peace. After decades of heartbreaking struggle, prosperity was slowly returning under the protection of the Shogunates, but Nikita's people evidently had the capability to travel great distances. Did that mean they meant to invade?

"Scholar, I need to know why they are here. She says they were blown off course—off course to where? What was the purpose of their trip?"

"She's afraid of us, Lord. If I am to learn the truth, I must gain her trust."

"Hai," Musashi agreed. "But we must know soon. In the meantime, we have no choice but to prepare for our defense."

Mikel looked back at Nikita who was watching their conversation with curiosity, while she picked at her food.

"May I take her with me tonight?"

Musashi smiled with amusement and glanced at his own wife, Mariko, seated at his side. "You risk your heart, Scholar, having her so close. Remember, she must first choose you."

Mikel nodded his head once. "She will," he said softly. "I only wish to get to know her. As we are to be betrothed, I am permitted this."

"If she agrees, she may go with you. If not, she is free to stay."

"She has asked to see her father. Is it possible to allow this?"

"With Mejin's assistance, I have already sent a message to bring him here along with the others. The Council is meeting soon and wishes to question them."

"Did you ask him about my father?" Nikita asked, after the Shogun and his wife retired from the dining room, leaving her and Mikel alone. They were seated on pillows next to each other at a low table.

"Yes," Mikel said, gazing intently at her mouth as she spoke.

"And?"

He admired her lower lip, so full and pink, and wondered what it would feel like pressed against his mouth. It took a moment for him to regain control over his thoughts to answer.

"He has already sent for him."

"Then he'll be here soon?" she asked.

"In a few weeks."

Nikita smiled with a radiance that awed him as he watched.

"Thank you, Mikel."

He stood and bowed low in response. "Come," he said after, offering her his hand. She took it and allowed him to pull her to her feet.

"What happens now?" she asked.

Mikel held his breath for a moment. Would she come with him? Not knowing her people's customs, he didn't know how to ask. Finally his courage failed him. He was too afraid to risk losing her. Not now, not when he had finally found her.

"I must say goodbye," he said, reluctantly letting go of her hand.

"Goodbye?" The radiance in her face suddenly faded and while Mikel was sad to see it go, he hoped it meant she would miss him.

"Hai. Yes."

"Will you come back tomorrow?"

"I am samurai," Mikel explained. "I serve the Shogun. I come at his bidding, not my own." He turned to leave, with faint hope that she might follow.

"Wait, when will you be back?" Nikita asked, walking quickly to stay at his side.

"I do not know. Soon, the Shogun intends to send me to the southern province." He slowed his pace, but continued down the hallway.

"Wait! Please don't leave me here alone. I can't understand anyone. I can't speak to anyone."

Mikel looked down to see she had clasped his wrist between her hands then lifted his eyes to hers. He wondered if she could feel his blood pounding in his veins.

"Would you come with me, then?" he asked softly.

"I can't leave," Nikita replied slowly letting go, "not if my father is coming here."

"I live nearby in the village. It is not far."

"Would you bring me back when my father arrives?"

"Yes."

"But will the Shogun allow me to leave?"

"You have but to ask him."

"Then, let's go ask." She tugged on his wrist. "I’ll need you to translate."

Mikel gratefully took her hand in his as they went to find Musashi.
#

“Mikel, do you bid me a good evening?” Musashi asked as he returned Mikel’s bow. Nikita bowed also, after watching Mikel. Her expression was somewhat hopeful, somewhat puzzled.

“My Lady wishes to ask if she might accompany me to my home,” Mikel said with a calm he did not feel.

“Does she understand fully what she is asking?”

“I have not told her of the betrothal. But I swear on my sword, I will not touch her unless she comes to me with free will.”

“You are strong Scholar, but your blood burns for her. I see it in your eyes. Do you think this is wise?”

“Lord, what man is wise when it concerns a woman? But how can I leave her? If she is to choose me, she must learn to love me.”

“And you? Do you already love her?”

Mikel placed his fisted hand against his belly and bowed low. “With my soul, Lord, if not yet with my body.”

“Then I am pleased that I have chosen so well for you. Come forward with her and I will join you.”

Mikel turned to Nikita, who asked, “What did he say?”

“Take my hand,” Mikel replied, “and come.”

Nikita did as he asked and they both stepped closer to the Shogun.

“Bow,” Mikel whispered to her as he lowered his head and let go of her hand. She obediently followed suit.

“Now, give the Shogun your hand,” Mikel instructed.

Nikita frowned, but did as he told her.

The Shogun took it in his and asked her, “Do you willingly choose this man?”

“What did he say?” Nikita whispered to Mikel.

“Is it of your own free will that you go with me?”

“Tell him, yes,” she whispered back.

“You must tell him.”

“Yes is “hai”, isn’t it?”

Mikel nodded.

“Hai.”

The Shogun smiled faintly, as if knowing his words were probably not translated exactly, but knew Mikel was a man of his word.

“Mikel, do you willingly take her, to love, protect and treasure?” The Shogun extended his other hand and took Mikel’s.

“In this life and until the next, Lord, Hai.” With his free hand, Mikel clasped the hilts of his two swords and bowed again.

“Then take her; she is yours.” He placed Nikita’s hand into Mikel’s and stepped away.

“Does this mean I can go with you?” Nikita whispered.

“Hai,” Mikel replied ever so softly, then added mentally “forever and always, my love.
#

"Are we going to war or to your home?" Nikita asked as she watched two servants dress Mikel in forbidding black armor.

"I am samurai," Mikel said, as if it was explanation enough.

Nikita stood by in a blue silk kimono, beneath a powder-blue, hooded cape--a gift from the Shogun's wife. All her other clothes, in fact every item she counted as her own, were in a small leather bag sitting at her feet.

When all of his armor was in place, Mikel offered her his hand. "It is late," he said, "come."

A servant gathered up Nikita's small bag and followed behind as Mikel led Nikita through a long corridor that led to the front of the castle. Outside, beneath a stone gateway stood Mikel's horse and four of the Shogun's soldiers. Without a word, Mikel picked Nikita up and sat her across his saddle, then mounted behind her.

"I can ride quite well on my own," she said, feeling awkward seated side-saddle and having to depend on his arms around her to keep her balance.

"Good. Then tomorrow we will find a mount for you." He shouted an order, which Nikita assumed was the order to mount, as that is what the soldiers did before spurring their horses and following Mikel through the castle gate and past the outer walls of the castle grounds.

Nikita noted the village streets were paved and lined with tiny lights, about two feet high, at even intervals. The lights gave off a soft glow, only enough to mark the edge of the road, but not enough light to see beyond the road on either side. Everything else was shrouded in a damp fog and by the darkness of night. She shivered and huddled closer to Mikel, who responded by wrapping his free arm tighter around her.

She wondered why they needed an escort and why Mikel thought it necessary to wear armor on a night's ride. One of the Shogun's men rode a few feet ahead; one rode behind, and two others rode on either side of them. Then she recalled that on her trip to the castle, while the countryside looked relatively peaceful, there too, her captors all rode armed to the teeth. Was this country at war? Had coming here been a terrible mistake?

She sighed as she looked at Mikel's face. He was her only good fortune. From him she could learn in weeks what might have taken months or years, yet what good was gathering information, if there was no way to return home with it? Telling Mikel of their shipwreck had been the truth, but the real purpose of their voyage she had kept secret. Her father's expedition had taken an unexpected, almost fatal turn, yet there was still hope. As long as they were all still alive, there was always hope. In the meantime, Nikita vowed to learn all she could of this strange new land and its people.

The warmth of Mikel's arms, along with the familiar gait of the horse, gradually rocked Nikita to sleep. Her dreams were of home and of Jurgen on her father's boat, but soft words invaded the dream; velvet words spoken against her forehead: "Lady, do you sleep?"

She slowly opened her eyes and realized that in her dream blond Jurgen had had brown hair and olive green eyes.

"We are here," Mikel said.

"I'm sorry, I guess I did fall asleep," Nikita said, righting herself in the saddle and looking around.

Mikel dismounted, reached to catch her in his arms, and lightly set her on the ground.

Nikita, slightly disoriented from sleep, stared at their surroundings. There was an iron gate behind them that two men were closing. A stone wall encircled a courtyard and about fifty yards away stood a huge building, brightly lit on the outside with torches, with a smaller dwelling at its foot.

Mikel handed the reins to his horse and his helmet to the two men who had closed the gate, then briefly spoke with the men who had escorted them. Since it was late, Nikita surmised Mikel had offered them a bed for the night, as they all dismounted and were led away by Mikel's servants.

Taking hold of her hand, Mikel led Nikita down a path that led to a wooden bridge that arched over a body of water. Wondering if it were a pond or a stream, Nikita peered over the railing. To her utter amazement she saw fish that glowed with their own light. Bright hues of golden orange, hot pink and cherry red lit up the darkened water beneath the bridge, and in the distance she saw a patch of vivid, metallic blue.

"They glow!" she exclaimed, leaning further over the railing. "Are they real? Are they alive?"

Mikel gave her a puzzled smile and looked over the railing as well. "You have never seen fluorescents?"

"Fluorescents? No. They're beautiful. What makes them glow?"

Mikel smiled. "They were bred to glow, a long time ago." He tugged gently on her hand, to urge her to continue across the bridge. Reluctantly, Nikita followed, but took a greater interest in looking around for other marvels.

The second marvel was glass; clear, sparkling glass, around a silver-colored, double-door. All the glass that Nikita had ever seen had been crude, thick and uneven, with the exception of the round glass windows on her father's ship which had been a relic of the time before the war.

The silver doors were opened at their approach, and as they stepped inside, four young men, all in gray uniforms, bowed low. When they raised their heads again, they stared at Nikita with appreciative surprise.

Nikita heard Mikel speak her name in a brief conversation, and the men bowed a second time, this time directly to her. She felt obligated to bow in return.

"Is this where you live?" she whispered, as the young men left them alone in the hallway.

“No, this is where my people live. My home is the smaller building nearby.”

Nikita and Mikel stood together in the hall for several awkward moments before Nikita asked what they were waiting for. But before Mikel could answer, they were approached by an elderly woman. Had she been not been Nipponese, Nikita would have thought she was Mikel's grandmother. She had snow-white hair, black-button eyes, and smiled at them both with great affection.

Mikel fell to one knee and bowed to the tiny, old woman and then pressed her hand against his cheek as he spoke with her. And for the hundredth time that evening, Nikita wished she could understand the language.
#

"Ayame-san, Lord Musashi has honored me with a bride. Her name is Nikita. She speaks no Nipponese."

"I have such joy, Mikel, to see a mother for your children at last. And so beautiful! Does she come to your bed this night?"

Mikel looked at Nikita, filled with longing, but shook his head. "She does not know our customs, nor I hers. She came because I am the only one of her kind. I am placing her in your care; she is to have my quarters. As the law requires, I must wait until she decides."

Ayame-san stroked Mikel's cheek fondly. "There is honor in patience, child. I am sure she will decide in your favor."

"She is my life or my death," Mikel whispered. His eyes closed for a moment to hide his emotions.

The old woman bowed with somber understanding and took two steps back as Mikel turned to Nikita.

"This is Lady Ayame, the head of my household. I have placed you in her care. She speaks some English. If you wish for anything, you have only to tell her." With that Mikel bowed and turned to leave.

"Wait! Mikel! Will I see you tomorrow?"

"Hai. When you are ready, Lady Ayame will send for me."

"Good night, then." Nikita said with a tired smile. She turned to follow Lady Ayame down a carpeted hallway.

"Good night," Mikel replied, and left to find another place to sleep.

CHAPTER THREE

Phillip Jones watched Jurgen Schaffer, his tall, blond, first mate pace their tiny quarters with mild irritation. He wished the man would sit down so he could think.

"Well Phillip, I think I know where we are," Walter Jones told his brother dryly, folding his arms across his chest. "Japan."

"Japan? And how do you know that?" Jurgen asked testily.

"Simple. I told the old fella that brought our supper last night that it was Ici ban. That means "number one" in Japanese—slang for it's good. It's the only damn phrase I know, but means we are in Japan, because he understood it and grinned."

"That storm blew us northwest. I guess we should be glad it isn't Korea, if Korea still exists beyond a radioactive wasteland," Phillip muttered. "This wouldn't have happened if we had fuel to run a decent engine."

"And you were a better navigator," his older brother drawled with a faint smile.

Phillip nodded and continued to pace. "Why in God's name did I let Nikita talk me into letting her come along?"

"And what were you going to do? Leave her on her own? She couldn't run the farm alone and with the blacks making war on the towns to the south, stealing cattle and horses-don't second guess yourself Phil, it's pointless. Besides, she would have stowed away before she would have let us leave without her and you know it. She's just as stubborn as you are."

"They should have picked someone else," Phillip said sadly.

"Who else knew how to sail?" Walter offered.

"Someone else could bloody well have learned!"

"What do they want with us?" Jurgen interrupted. "And why take Nikita?"

"I don't think they've harmed her. Other than keeping us locked up, they haven't harmed any of us. The food’s not bad, the room’s comfortable. Surely if they treat us this well, they would treat a woman the same or better," Walter replied.

"Unless they are simply fattening us up to eat us," Jurgen growled darkly.

Walter flashed Jurgen an angry look and Philip once again felt bitter disappointment with the younger man’s negative attitude.

There was a sudden sound at the door, and all three men turned at once. A short soldier, in full armor entered the room and bowed. He handed Jurgen a narrow, folded message.

Jurgen handed it to Phillip who unfolded it and stared at the writing.

"It's in English!" 'You come peacefully to Kurou-Jo. Your woman is here.'

"Who the hell sent it?" Walter asked.

"It's unsigned, but who cares," Phillip replied greatly relieved. "She's alive, thank God."
#

Fresh air through an open window, the soft rustling of material, and sound of whispers gently awoke Nikita. She opened her eyes and saw two little girls peeking at her from an open doorway. At first Nikita thought they were twins because they were dressed alike until she realized one was quite a bit taller than the other. Mikel's daughters perhaps? They had adorable dimples and stared at her with huge brown eyes and interested smiles.

"Ohayou gozaimasu," the youngest ventured before hiding timidly behind her sister.

Another voice from the opposite of the room admonished them with, "Shi shi!" Nikita lifted her head and saw Lady Ayame gesturing to the two to leave.

Nikita sat up in bed and Lady Ayame bowed and said good morning.

"You…have a good sleep?" Lady Ayame asked, seeming to struggle for the right words.

Nikita smiled, realizing she'd slept better than she had in weeks. Probably because she was finally in a real bed and not on a bedroll or mat on the floor, as she had been on her journey and at the Shogun's palace.

"Hai, very well, thank you."

"I bring clothes," she gestured to the armoire where a pretty, flowery kimono was hanging. "You wish first, dress or bath?"

"Bath!" Nikita grinned and shoved off the bed covers.

Lady Ayame gave her a thin robe, one made of polished, white cotton which Nikita put over the gown that she slept in. Lifting her long hair over the outside of the robe, Nikita followed the frail old woman into the next room. Inside was a huge, enameled tub that sat flush with the floor, and looked about three feet deep. The interior of the bathroom was lined in bamboo, except for an exterior wall of glass bricks which illuminated the room with sunlight yet protected its privacy.

Taking her cue from earlier bath experiences at the shogun's castle, Nikita sat on a small stool next to the tub and soaped her body using a rag and pan of warm water. Then rinsing off the soap, she slipped into the tub to soak. She immersed herself completely in the steaming water, wetting her hair, so that it could be soaped and rinsed after she got out of the tub again. She thought it strange to bathe before getting into the tub, but that appeared to be the custom here and she wasn't about to complain. Bathing at home required doing so in the river, or dragging in well water and laboriously heating it a few pots at a time. No one in her family could remember having water coming directly into the house, although supposedly, many years ago that was a common occurrence. But here, at Mikel's home, was hot water inside the house. Perhaps her father didn't need to make it to Europe. Perhaps the technology they wanted to learn was here.

CHAPTER FOUR

Sunday, 15 May 153

My life was reborn last night. Her name is Nikita, and she is a gift in every way that matters. I am not alone; there are others of my race that survive. She and three others arrived weeks ago on a ship that has sailed a great distance to our shores. My Lord Musashi fears invasion from the south, but my soul believes otherwise.

Of secondary importance, is my appointment to Shogun over the castles and lands of young Lord Akigawa. His death at age twenty-three, and that of his wife, sister, and brother, is suspicious. Musashi suspects treachery, and commands me to investigate. I will leave soon for the southern provinces, but now I will not go alone.

A third gift! The council has given permission to venture into the ancient cities. Will death still linger there or, as I hope, will we find great knowledge?

But my thoughts cannot stray for long. She is beautiful! A blissful treasure for my eyes. Not since Hoshiko, have I felt such emotion for a woman, and she is now mine to protect. I tremble with want, but cannot touch her until she wills it so. Until then, I must take up the task of learning the skills to be a husband. I will live to please you, my love, or die, should I fail.

Mikel closed his private journal and gazed at the huge collection of books that surrounded him. They had been the greatest treasures in his life until this moment; now he saw they had only cushioned his soul from the true weight of his loneliness.

Until now, he had envied other men. True, not all men had wives and children, but at least they had the hope for them. That hope had always been denied to Mikel. Nippon was Nippon, and though he had been born here, he always knew he was an outsider.

His father once apologized for bringing Mikel into the world. He claimed it was thoughtless and selfish to have a child, when there was no future hope for that child to have a family of his own. But there was the knowledge that needed to be passed down, knowledge that only his grandfather and father possessed. Mikel was to be the receptacle of that knowledge; the keeper of the flame. Mikel was an engineer, a student of machines in a world that had lost the use of those machines. His mission was to learn from the past, so that the lives of the people would improve. So, he had become a scholar and a teacher, as well as a warrior.

Mikel knew so many things, except how to make a woman love him….
#

"Mikel-san!"

Mikel turned to see twin pixies in pink running across the lawn. He smiled and knelt to their level when they reached his side. Eight-year-old Sachiko and six-year-old Yoshiko each gave Mikel a hug good morning. He kissed the girls on the cheek in return. In the distance he spied their mother, Hoshiko, once his secret love, now simply the good wife of his late comrade-in-arms. Her new husband, Shiro walked at her side in the warm morning sun.

"Well, little rabbits, how are you this morning?" Mikel asked taking the girls by the hands and walking them to the bridge to see the fish.

"We saw your Lady. She has blue eyes!" Sachiko said with wonder.

"But she is old with white hair," Yoshiko added, making a face.

Mikel laughed and ran his hands affectionately through Yoshiko's long, black hair. "Not white, golden, like the fish." He scooped her up as they got to the pond and threatened to toss her in with them, just to enjoy hearing her laugh.

"And where is my Lady?" he asked a moment later.

The two girls shrugged then Yoshiko pointed towards Mikel's home. Standing on the porch that wrapped the back of Mikel's house, Nikita stood observing her surroundings. Mikel felt his heart rate spike as he watched her.

"Come," he said, carrying the younger girl and taking her sister by the hand, "and I shall introduce you to my Lady."

"Good morning," Nikita said as Mikel arrived.

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