The Green-Green-White
By Rusty Priske
Edited by Fred Wan

A young boy, no more than four, picked a small red flower from the edge of the trail. “What is it called?”

Morito Tomomi thought for a moment and said, “I have heard it called the Sorrow flower and the Victory flower, both for the same reason.”

The boy scrunched up his nose. “How can it have two names?”

Tomomi stretched her arms and smiled. “Some things have many names. Even people have more than one name in their lives. Take yourself… now you are Kiyoemon, but one day you will have your gempukku and you will take a different name. Still later, you may retire and take yet a third name.”

Kiyoemon discarded the flower and looked up at his aged attendant. “What is retire?”

“Well, when a samurai has seen many summers and feels it is time, he may leave the life he has known and become a monk. As he moves on to this new life, he will take a new name in order to mark the passage from one life to the next.”

Kiyoemon looked at Tomomi, puzzled. “Why would someone want to stop being a samurai?”

Tomomi thought and then said, “I don’t know, really. Retirement isn’t for me. Maybe we should ask a monk.”

“I don’t know. Retirement should seem like a good option right now.”

Tomomi spun around, with her hand ready to draw her katana at the sound of the newcomer. The voice belonged to a man in rough, dirty garb. He lifted his hands, trying to calm the old samurai-ko. “No need to draw, old mother. We don’t need this to end in violence. That would end badly for you and we don’t need that.”

Tomomi used her off hand to usher Kiyoemon behind her. “What do you want?”

“We,” he motioned with his hand and four more ruffians emerged from the trees all around the Ox woman and her charge. He continued, “Are here for the boy. Just step aside and let us have him and we won’t have to kill you. In fact, you can take the ransom demand back to his father and be of some actual use.”

“I would sooner die than turn him over to a group of bandits.” She spit the last word as she drew her katana.

The man shrugged. “We can take care of that as well.” All the bandits produced weapons of their own and moved towards her, cautiously. As the leader felt the heft of his own sword and readied himself to attack he was struck in the side of the head by a stone. He staggered to the right as blood started to trickle from his temple. “What in Jigoku!”

One of his companions pointed to the trees. “It came from there!”

The wounded man gestured to two of his men and said, “You are with me. You others… finish the woman!” He then dashed into the tree line, with the other two close on his heels.

Tomomi faced the two remaining ruffians. One wielded a katana, marked with wear and use. The other held a naginata and was the first to advance. Tomomi readied her own katana and braced for their attack. She managed to dodge the killing thrust of the first lunge, but the naginata found purchase in her shoulder, tearing it open and causing her to drop her weapon.

The bandit with the naginata went down suddenly, bowled over by a rush of fur and crushing stone. He did not rise. The second vagabond spun to face this new threat, only to see a muscular Nezumi, clan in a tattered tunic and holding a stone axe in each hand. Without uttering a word, the creature moved in, swatting the bandit’s sword away with one axe and crushing his skull with the other.

The Nezumi then chittered in his own language, calling into the forest. Tomomi tried to reclaim her katana, but instead, feeling the blood loss, collapsed to her knees as five more Nezumi emerged from the trees. They spoke amongst each other but Tomomi could understand none of it. Finally, the first one, seemingly their leader, said to her, “You are hurt. We must-must stop bleeding.”

The creatures snapped to readiness seconds before Tomomi heard the approaching horses. They formed a semi-circle around Tomomi and Kiyoemon as the riders galloped into view.

“Stand down creatures! In the name of Morito Kitaji, you will stand down!”

“They have your son, Kitaji-san!”

“Kill them all!”

The eight riders, all wearing the Ox mon, moved in to attack the Nezumi. Their horses seemed spooked and did not want to approach, but the riders goaded them on. The Nezumi did not back down at all, with weapons, claws and teeth bared.

“No! Stop!” Tomomi pulled herself to her feet and pushed past the creature who had saved her.

“Tomomi-san? What is this? Stand aside!”

“No, Kitaji-sama! I cannot!”

The leader of the riders pulled his horse up and dismounted. “What is this? We had reports of these creatures in the forest and now we find my son under attack and two dead men and you wounded, yet you tell us not to attack? I ask again, what is this?”

“It was these men who attacked us, not the creatures. There were five bandits who wanted to take your son for ransom! These creatures saved us.”

Kitaji looked at Tomomi with a stern expression. He then turned to the Nezumi. “Is this true?”

“Men threaten matron and her cub. We kill-kill all bad men.”

Kitaji’s eyes darted between the Nezumi, Tomomi and Kiyoemon. He motioned towards his son, who scrambled from where he was to stand behind his father. “In that case,” he bowed deeply to the creature, “I am in your debt. You saved Morito Kiyoemon… my son. I am Morito Kitaji of the Ox clan. It is Ox lands that you are traveling through.”

The Nezumi bowed awkwardly in imitation of Kitaji. “I am Ep’kee of the Green-Green-White tribe. We do not wish to intrude. We have been summoned and we go.”

“After what you have done for us here, you are more than welcome to safe passage through these lands. Where is it that you heading?”

“The forest you call-call Shinomen.”

“You have quite a journey ahead of you. Please, join us in a meal before you continue on your way.”

One of Kitaki’s men was dispatched to take Tomomi to be tended to, but the rest, including Kiyoemon, stayed to have a meal with the Nezumi.

Kitaji’s brow furrowed. “So, all of you Nezumi are going to face…what you call Tomorrow.”

Ep’kee nodded.

“And this will likely mean your deaths.”

“It is our end.”

“Then we will join you. You risked your own lives to save my family. I could do no less.” There was a general note of agreement from the men in Kitaji’s unit.

Ep’kee bowed his head. “I thank-thank, Ki-taji. But is not possible. Only Nezumi can face Tomorrow. Is Nezumi destiny, not Ki-taji. Is nice to have human friends. Not like other horse riders.”

Kitaji cocked his head. “What do you mean? What other riders?”

“The horse-men. The purple ones. They have killed many Nezumi. Nezumi fight back and kill many purple horse men, but now we must face Tomorrow and revenge must-must end.”

“That is the Unicorn. You are not the only ones that they have come against of late. Still, you are our friends and your battles are our battles. If we cannot help you face Tomorrow, we can at least defend you as you leave. I give you my word as a samurai, that my squad will fight the Unicorn wherever we can find them, in the name of the Empire and the Green-Green-White tribe.”

Ep’kee bowed. “You do us great-great service, Ki-taji. You are friend.”