Kuroba Asashin's Arc

Chapter 40 of 44

Kuroba lay on the mat with the odachi within arm's reach. The waterfall pushed a steady sound through the wall. He had almost slept when boots stopped outside his door. A cane tapped stone twice. "Open," the king said. Kuroba rose and slid the door. The king stood alone. No spear. No shield. Only the cane and the robe and the white eyes that did not need light. Kuroba stepped aside. The king came in and did not sit. "I will say a thing," the king said. "Then you will answer." "Say it." Kuroba said calmly. "Marry Kadi." The king declared. Kuroba did not move. Down the corridor the sage-green lizard-dog padded past the door, paused, and went on. The king waited without softening his face. "She is eighteen," Kuroba said. "I know her age." The king replied. "That is too young for what you are asking." Kuroba said calmly but defiantly. "I am not asking for tonight.” The king replied. "After the gate. After I spend what is left of the fire in my hands." The king set both palms on the cane. "I will not see another winter. She will hold this place alone. A woman alone in a chair does not hold long. You know this. Then marry her." Kuroba thought of Ona at the dojo. Of Tish on the black stone throne with the crown he had forged. He thought of the girl at the table who had eaten without answering her father and had ridden through the night to fetch him. "No," he said. The king's jaw set. He did not speak. "She is too young," Kuroba said. "And I am not a husband to give her. I have a school. I have a queen I pledged to defend. I have a woman who runs my dojo. A ring on my hand would be a lie on all of them." "Then my daughter dies in a chair she cannot hold." "No," Kuroba said. "I will watch over her. While I am on this ground and after. If the gate breaks and you fall, I stand between her and whatever comes. If she rides out, I ride with her. If she calls, I come. That is what I can give. Not a ring." The king was quiet a long moment. The cane tapped once. "Say it again. Plain." The king said with a calm, kind, humble demand. "I will keep her safe." Kuroba declared softly. The king nodded once. He turned to the door and stopped in it. "First light," he said. "Do not be late to my gate." He went out. The cane tapped down the corridor and faded under the sound of the water. Kuroba slid the door shut. He sat with the odachi across his knees. He had refused the king and bound himself to the daughter by a harder rope than marriage. In a few hours the north gate would open, and the promise would begin to cost. He went to sleep. Everyone did. Everyone who could.