Heroes Out of Exile

01-Go North or Die

The gray cloud cover turned to the full darkness of night by the time he reached the large red wooden door in the whitewashed stone wall. A thick rope hanging from a bell danced in the wind. He wrestled it, pulled, then hammered on the door. Gusts of wind drove the rain into his face. He feared it would drown out the sound, leaving him stranded. He reached for the rope again when a slot slid open, and a pair of eyes looked out.

“Please, I need shelter,” Hiroto yelled over the wind and rain.

The eyes flicked around. The slot slid closed. When the gate opened, an older male Eruffu in a heavy white robe and wooden sandals fought against the weather with a blanket.

Hiroto pulled his hood back, thinking for some reason this would make him easier to hear. “I was afraid you wouldn’t hear me ringing.”

“I almost didn’t,” the porter yelled over the storm. “I couldn’t imagine someone would be traveling on a night like this. Are you in danger? Political asylum?” He looked past Hiroto as if to see pursuers.

“I have a letter for your Den-Kocho,” Hiroto answered.

The gatekeeper looked Hiroto over. “Maybe better not to say then. The stable is over there.”

When Hiroto reached the stable, he began unpacking in an attempt to dry his things, then thought better of it, just in case he needed to leave quickly. He removed Ushin’s letter and made sure the rest was still secured.

The porter waited under the eaves of the front entrance. Gnarled, bony legs stuck out from his short robe.

Thin, petite even, Hiroto thought. He poses no threat.

“Shed all of your wet things here,” he instructed Hiroto. “I’ve just cleaned and waxed this floor today. I’ll not have some vagabond-” He stopped himself and clenched his lips in a failed attempt at a smile. Regaining his composure, the porter stood up straight and bowed slightly at the waist. “I apologize. I am Obito. Welcome. I can deliver that letter to the master if you’d-”

“No!” It came out sharper than Hiroto intended. He took a breath. “Thank you. I’d like to deliver it personally.” Clutching the note, Hiroto undressed in the doorway.

“It makes no difference to me.” Obito shrugged. “It is our custom to offer a hot bath and a hot meal before any business is conducted.”

“It is very important that…” Hiroto let his voice trail off. He read the old man’s face. It was more than just a suggestion. He was no longer Hiroto, second-born to the Emperiado Province. He was a vagabond whose appearance, after traveling in rain and sleeping in mud, would be offensive. “I would enjoy that very much.” The bath and meal would give them time to prepare for his audience and to check if this was some trap. Or was his own newfound paranoia coloring his view? Obito escorted him to a private room.

“You will find a clean robe and slippers in the dresser. When you have bathed, you will put them on. I will return for you,” Obito instructed.

It struck Hiroto hard that the man did not bow to him as he left the room. This is what it is like to be . . . He grasped for the right word and recoiled at the revelation: common.

“Ooooo.” Hiroto let out a sigh as he slid into the tub. He rested his head on the lip and savored the feeling of the hot water chasing the chill out of his bones. His hand wandered down to the bandage around his leg. The steaming water loosened it, and the dirty, bloody cloth floated to the top. Hiroto threw it out of the tub and inspected the wound. The skin pulled tight. The cut glowed red and showed signs of infection. The hot bath would be good for circulation and healing.

He looked around. He was alone in the room. I will have to wash myself. This is my life now.

Obito dropped off a tray of food, a simple stew of vegetables and meat in broth, but he savored the first hot meal in how long? Was it only a few days? Our lives are measured in events more than sunrises. It now seemed like a lifetime ago. And wasn’t it? That’s what forced him here. He needed to start a completely new life to escape his old. After dressing, he sat on the floor, closed his eyes, and drew energy from his breathing, gathering strength and focus for the task ahead.

Obito’s hand on his shoulder brought him back to the present. “The Den-Kocho will see you now.” He led Hiroto through the halls past empty sleeping chambers, enough to house forty occupants, but dust lay thick on the furnishings. The Hito-No-Kishi’s part in defending the borders from the Orcrus had taken a toll, and the short peace at home had already made the rest of the Eruffu forget why they were needed in the first place.

They stopped at a pair of dark wooden double doors. A voice from the other side commanded, “Enter!” Light washed over them and filled Hiroto’s eyes. Pairs of pillars ran down the center of the room. At the far end, on a raised dais, the Den-Kocho sat cross-legged on a large pillow. Obito nodded to her, then stepped aside, motioning for Hiroto to enter.

Hiroto walked down the center aisle and realized the two were not alone. Next to each pillar, blind from the door, knelt an armed guard. Ingenious, he thought, as one enters, they would have no idea of the number or the location of the guards.

Hiroto knelt on the mat in front of the dais. He placed his left palm, then his right, on the ground, and bowed until his forehead touched the floor. While there was no shame in the gesture, the gentle irony of it gave him pause. Just days ago, he was on the other side of this bow.

She eyed Hiroto with a hint of a smirk. “You are here to deliver a message.”

Hiroto couldn’t tell if it was a question or simply a statement. “This letter will explain everything.” He reached toward her.

A guard jumped between them and grabbed the parchment case. The Den-Kocho shook her head. After a brief inspection, the guard passed it to her.

As she read, Hiroto picked the woman apart. She had the muscular build of someone who had trained their whole life. As with every Eruffu he’d met, he had the height advantage and knew how to use it. His eyes lingered on her round face. There was something comfortably familiar about it. Despite showing the weather of many years, still attractive and filled with vigor. Her dark hair, threaded with silver and pulled back into a ponytail, added to the youthful effect.

The Den-Kocho looked up from the letter, and Hiroto realized he had been staring.

She cocked an eyebrow. “Have you read this letter?”

“No, it was written by my mentor, Ushin.” Hiroto shifted slightly, trying to ease the pressure building against the stitches in his thigh.

The Den-Kocho chuckled. “Yes, I know Ushin very well.”

Hiroto looked up, then down again. He didn’t know where to put his eyes. He tried to think back to the laws of etiquette. Who had he allowed to address him directly? Who had he expected to look down in his presence?

“Everyone out.” The Den-Kocho ordered. The guard’s eyes darted back and forth.

She shook her head. Her expression dismissed all formality. “Everything is fine.” She moved her hand as if to brush the guards away. They bowed and left the room.

“Hiroto Takato Emperiado. You don’t recognize me, do you?” She searched Hiroto’s face for some sign. “No, you wouldn’t. It has been some thirty years since I last saw you, and you were very young, and even more self-absorbed.”

A swirl of memories took vague form in Hiroto’s head. The wisps of a smile and a hearty laugh emerged. He struggled to place this familiar face. Then the resemblance to his own father struck him. “Aunt Rae?”

She chuckled. “Yes. I am your father’s youngest sibling. Your uncles, Eng and Manka, are between us.” A shadow passed over her. “Or were, when they were alive.”

A slow enlightenment crept across Hiroto’s face. “When you disappeared, you joined the Hito-No-Kishi?” At least I am a second child. As a fourth child, she had no real future.

“It was either that or,” she shrugged. “Execution? Head to the western kingdom? Become a cleric? I found I had no tongue for prayer. And I enjoy wine and the company of others too much.” The Den-Kocho laughed loudly.

Hiroto squirmed at the sudden outburst. He found no humor in the situation.

“I thought the No-Kishi could not get married,” Hiroto said.

“We cannot marry, but we do not take a vow of celibacy. There’s a difference.” She laughed again, pleased by her own joke, then looked at Hiroto’s stone face and shook her head. “I remember you as a child, Hiroto. Ushin always said you’d mature, grow into the Eruffu he knew you could be.” She pressed her lips together.

Hiroto fought to keep his face stoic. He thought, Who is this crazy old woman? But said, “I apologize for my impatience.”

The Den-Kocho glanced at the letter, then back to Hiroto. “Your brother, Corrotti, he is the Dumo now? My condolences. I had heard Wymaru was ill, but I hadn’t heard... I would have come to the funeral.”

“Father is still alive. Bedridden, but alive, for now. He never recovered from Mother’s death. Corrotti thought it best to take control.” He began to stand, then knelt back down. “Aunt,” Hiroto diverted his eyes. “Den-Kocho, can you give me sanctuary? I need to become a Hito-No-Kishi.”

“Ha!” The Den-Kocho slapped her thigh. “You say those words as if they are the same thing. Becoming a Hito-No-Kishi will not provide you with safety. Quite the opposite; you will be in constant danger to ensure the safety of others.”

Hiroto’s brows drew together. “I have nowhere else to turn. I am a failure. I have dishonored myself and my family.”

“Dishonored yourself and your family? A failure? That’s not—” The Den-Kocho looked back at the letter. She gestured as if to say something and then changed her mind. “I’ll give you a choice. You are welcome to stay here as long as you like. You can tend to the animals and crops to provide for your share.” She paused, and he felt her gaze on him. “Or you can choose to take the oath, join the Hito-No-Kishi and defend those who lack the ability to defend themselves.”

Hiroto furrowed his brow, mustering his most serious face. But when he opened his mouth to answer, the Den-Kocho cut him off.

“No! You will not answer now. It is time for bed. Leave. Obito, who I have no doubt is eavesdropping outside the door, will show you the way.”

Hiroto bowed, rose to his feet, awkwardly bowed again, and then turned.

He found Obito fidgeting outside in the hall. “I have prepared a room for you. It will be available to you as long as you choose to stay. It is your responsibility to keep it clean. There are no servants here.”

A woven mat covered the floor of the small room. A straw mattress served as a bed.

“Firm, good for the back,” Obito told him. “I took your saddlebags from the stable. I was going to throw them with the other refuse, but stopped myself in case there was actually something of value mixed in.” Obito smiled a wide, tight-lipped grin. “There are extra clothes in those drawers.”

After sleeping outside in the rain, Hiroto could not imagine anything more comfortable than this straw mattress. But when he closed his eyes, the events of the last few days replayed in his head. He debated himself. Questioned everything he had said and done. Imagined different outcomes. Distorted images swirled through his head like rough seas: fighting his brother, his father lying in bed clinging to life, Ushin’s disappointment.

* * * *

As Hiroto fought his demons, other rooms in the keep still buzzed with activity. A visitor arrived soundlessly and found Obito for a brief conference.

Obito stormed through the hallways with his new information. The family resemblance so obvious to him now: the same dark upturned eyes, the high cheekbones.

When he arrived at the Den-Kocho’s private quarters, he entered without knocking. The Den-Kocho sat, legs crossed, meditating. Tonight, Obito took pleasure in interrupting her. “I sent the spies out as you asked. Although I think you already knew what they’d find. I’m surprised I didn’t see the family resemblance from the start.”

Rae responded without opening her eyes. “If I didn’t think of you as a beloved and cantankerous old nag, I would have you standing out in the rain for interrupting me. Remember, you saw him first. The spies were out before I had an audience with him in the Great Hall.” She took a breath. “I will not turn him away.”

“There are bounties for him up and down the countryside. Your nephew, Dumo Corrotti, has branded him a villain, a traitor. The Dumos of the other provinces have heard and want to kidnap him for their own machinations.”

Rae drew a relaxing breath through her nose. “Yes, I’m sure they want to interrogate him for Corrotti’s war plan and then ransom him. It would be a great embarrassment.” The muscles in her face tightened and then relaxed.

“Open your eyes!” Obito flailed his hands in exasperation. “Your nephew would not hesitate to kill us all.”

“Hmph.” The Den-Kocho turned away from Obito to look out the window. The clouds broke, and the rain stopped. Moonlight reflected off the rain-soaked fields, creating a world of shimmering light. She longed to romp in the tall wet grass.

Obito softened his voice. “He would burn our keep to the ground.”

The Den-Kocho’s gaze drifted to her dresser and a porcelain statue of a warrior goddess glistening in the pale light. The moonlight dancing in and out of the clouds created the illusion that it winked at her. Tears welled behind her eyes, but she let loose an exasperated chuckle. “After all this time, it’s Corrotti, not Hiroto.”

Obito snapped his fingers in Rae’s face. “You’re mumbling. I need you here.”

“Hiroto’s fate, the Empire’s fate. It’s all tied together. No matter what we do…” Rae’s jaw clenched then relaxed. “Calisandra has sent him to us for a reason.”

“Calisandra sent him to us?” Obito shook his head. “Calisandra is the goddess of traitorous bastards now? I should not have to remind you that the Hito-No-Kishi enjoy a very tenuous relationship with the Dumos of the Empire. We cannot give Corrotti, or any of them, just cause to revoke our status. We are supposed to remain neutral in these matters. His troops could just ride into our little valley and erase all evidence that we ever existed.”

“Thank you, Obito!” It exploded out of Rae as she slammed her fists down. “You have done an excellent job of pointing out the risks.”

“You don’t have to get angry,” Obito huffed. “Do whatever you want. I was just trying to help you think this through.” He threw his hands up and left the room.