In the beginning the sun burned bright in crystal blue skies, its distant flames radiating across grasslands with a gentle warmth that lulled all that lived there into a pleasant stupor. Along with the green and gold flecked lizards sunning themselves on the rocks, and the little brown birds dozing in the trees, Ayko stretched out in her little nest of grass and curled up again with a little sigh of contentment.
A hawk circled around lazily, temporarily blotting out the sun with its wings as she opened her eyes a little and groaned the lazy long groan of one who has slept too long and would quite like to keep on sleeping if at all possible.
Her tummy growled a little and she realized that this was probably not going to happen. She smiled in spite of her hunger and stretched, feeling her freedom run through her like a drug, masking her need for food momentarily.
She reached out to her faithful satchel, making sure it was still there, under her head where she left it. The warm familiar touch of the leather reassured her and she sat up, neglecting to pick the grass out of her hair as she reached into its depths and drew out the last of her supplies, some bread which had hardened over the days of travel into naught but a stale lump, and some bright orange cheese, which seemed to have suffered no ill effects at all.
Ayko breakfasted simply, shielded by the tall grass of the field she had temporarily made her home. Once she was done with her meal, she arose, dusted herself off as best she could be bothered, shouldered her satchel which was now full of nothing more than her precious scrolls, and set off in in a direction marked only by the fact that she estimated it to be the exact opposite to the way she had originally come.
She was no longer sure how many days she had been traveling, though it was probably less in number than the fingers on her hands. At first it had been difficult and scary, but now she had found something of a rhythm. The promise of brighter things to come, and her abhorrence of the tedious life she had left behind kept her her moving forwards no matter how desperate or uncomfortable things became.
Ayko’s muscles ached a little as she began this new morning’s walk, but she pushed through the discomfort, knowing that they would settle after the first mile or so. Hopefully today she would sell some of her tales to the players that played the dramatics in the little towns, or perhaps to a scroll maker. If not she would simply have to spin a tale in the marketplace and hope that she would be graced with some coins from the listeners. She’d never tried such a thing before, but had read of it in the stories she had devoured eagerly at home. Red cheeked urchins would gather around, enthralled by her tales, and their adult counterparts would drift by and become entrapped by her wicked turns of phrase. Before long, the whole market place would have come to a stand still, the wheels of commerce grinding to a halt as her tale left her listeners weeping into their robes with pure emotion.
Grinning to herself at the fantasy, Ayko looked around. There were no towns in sight as yet, but she figured there must be some around. Towns dotted the landscape like so many freckles, she knew that much, at least, that’s how one of her favorite writers, the great Lord Xang, had described this region, so it must surely be true.
The prospect of selling her stories and making her fortune lifted her spirits further and she continued on her way with a little more of a spring in her step, brushing her fingers through the grasses, occasionally picking a stem and chewing upon it as was the fashion amongst the people of the land.
Ayko was beginning to feel a little worried at the sheer barrenness of the lands when over to her left, a series of tents slowly came into view. She had missed them at first because they were a whitish yellow color and seemed to almost blend into the earth itself. Counting them, she realized that there were unlikely to be enough people in the little tent settlement to support a story teller, so she continued on her way, buoyed by the evidence of some civilization and now dreaming of finding her way to the Southern Citadel where her stories would no doubt be recited in all the best playhouses, and read in all the most popular scrolls. She would drink tea with the fancy ladies and make pithy conversation with the gentlemen whilst dressed in only the latest of fashions. The reality of the grubby white robes she wore at the present in no way impinged upon her fantasies. In fact, she fancied her humble beginnings would make quite the story to tell at the sophisticated parties she would no doubt be attending in just a few months.
Caught up in such thoughts, she never heard the swish of approaching footsteps, and let out a scream of fear and surprise as a hand grabbed her wrist and swung her around, holding her with a grip like steel.
Her captor was a tall older man, looking down at her with dark narrow eyes, displeasure etched in every line of his face. His dark hair was drawn back into a long plait, tinged with two straight silver streaks. His face remained youthful, though crinkles of smiles long since smiled played about his eyes and mouth. He was not smiling now.
“Who are you?” he demanded, his voice laden with authority.
At his words and his tone, Ayko smirked. She was no longer subject to any authority. She was her own woman. She had braved the odds of escape and won. Even though she had yet to speak a word, his expression darkened even further. He was not pleased. He waited, letting the moments tick by, clearly expecting a response. Ayko was rather disinclined to give him one.
“Who are you, and what are you doing here?” he asked again.
Her smirk remained in place as she shook her head slightly. He had no right to demand anything of her, nobody did anymore.
He nodded curtly, and turned, pulling her along with him, walking swiftly over towards the tent encampment, covering ground more quickly than she had imagined possible. She panicked then, fearing imprisonment, or perhaps worse, being returned in disgrace to the house of her parents. She began to fight desperately, kicking and lashing out at him, screaming to be let go.
He paid her no mind, his grip unwavering as she was dragged inexorably towards those low mysterious tents. She realized that there was nothing for it, and twisted in his grasp, biting down on his hand as hard as she could.
That got his attention. He spun around, releasing her wrist and slapping her across her face in the same motion, finishing by capturing her by the back of the neck. All of this was accomplished so quickly that it seemed to happen in an instant.
Ayko yowled in his grip, as he stared down at her, holding her so firmly it was almost impossible to move. There was a wild fear in her eyes, a look he recognized easily.
“Little kitten, do not be afraid, I will not harm you,” he said, his tone now kinder than it had been before. Even though terrified, Ayko kept up a petulant resistance, crossing her arms across her chest and glaring at him. She was quite a sight, hair filled with grass, the left side of her face stained with mud, clearly from sleeping rough, and her clothes were rumpled. Everything about her screamed ‘runaway’.
He continued to hold her and look down at her. “Would you like to co-operate and tell me who you are?” he asked, his voice slightly cajoling now. He had at first taken her for a spy, but it was almost certain that she was not. No spy worth their salt would have been captured so easily, or responded so petulantly.
Ayko shook her head, still silent.
“Let me go first then. I am Xang. You have entered our lands unbidden and without permission. This is a serious offense indeed.”
Seeing that he perhaps might not hurt her after all, Ayko responded. “Well Xang, let me go and I will be on my way out of your lands as soon as possible.”
He shook his head and squeezed the back of her neck a little, reminding her who held the control in this particular situation. Clearly this one was from the Northern Lands, more than likely wanting to seek her fortune in the Southern Citadel.
“Let me go,” she repeated the words, her eyes burning into his as if she could make him do what she wanted simply by sheer force of will.
He chuckled a little, evidently amused by her attempt to grasp control and began to walk her back towards the tents.
“No! Please!” Ayko began to plead, once again finding the situation slipping out of her control. “I’m not a fighter, or a spy, I’m just a writer, and I just want to go to the next town, please let me go,” she begged him, twisting in his grasp like a desperate eel.
Xang stopped and looked at her, and now his look was a mix of amusement and chastisement. “Then young lady, you are headed in very much the wrong direction,” he said, pointing over in a direction at a right angle to the one she had been traveling in. “That is the way to the settlements. The way you were heading you would have found nothing but Imperial Forces.”
“Oh.” Ayko said, flushing with embarrassment.
“So now you come with me. You are dirty, need feeding, and are completely lost. I will not have your pretty head on my conscience,” he said firmly, walking her back towards the tents again, but more slowly now.
“You cannot tell me what to do!” Ayko protested. He laughed, squeezed his grip a little and shook his head. “It would seem, my little kitten, that I can tell you exactly what to do.”
Ayko growled in his grasp as he lead her inexorably to the tents. Xang bowed to a couple of sentries who barely spared her a glance before bowing back and returning to their task of scanning the surrounding area for possible trouble.
It was embarrassing being lead in such a manner through the tents, with people looking out and saying hello to Xang as he passed and seeing her there, trapped in his grasp. Seeking to hide herself, Ayko fixed her gaze on the ground and refused to look up. She would escape as soon as she was given a moment to herself, she vowed that.
Though it was but a minute or two, it seemed like an eternity before they reached his tent, a large yellowed structure much like the rest. Xang released her from his grasp at the entrance and watched with a little smile on his lips as she scuttled inside.
Ayko stopped just inside the opening, looking around in wonder at how comfortable it seemed for such a temporary dwelling. There was a large fluffy rug that took up much of the floor space, and several cloth partitions which sectioned off various areas of the tent. It smelled pleasantly of the smoke of dried flowers and an underlying man-scent.
Xang followed in through the curtain behind her, his presence uncomfortably large in this small space. “Take your shoes off,” he prompted her gently. She nodded and obeyed his direction, not so much because he had told her to, but because she was loathe to mess up such a pretty rug. Xang watched her movements with a keen and shrewd gaze, she could feel it on her constantly, even when she couldn’t see him, his gaze seemed to penetrate her and hold her as firmly as his hand had held her out in the field.
Now she was firmly in his domain, much of Ayko’s prior confidence and bravado seemed to have deserted her. She trembled a little, and there was a tremor to her lower lip. This was not the way she had planned her freedom. Now she was trapped again, in a strange and scary place with a man who seemed to think he knew what was best for her. Surely it could only be a matter of time before they tried to marry her off, or worse.
It was supposed to be a death sentence. Cast out of her home in shame for her refusal to marry an old farmer, headstrong aspiring writer Ayko is determined to make her own way in the world as an independent woman. But in a land torn asunder by civil war, and a countryside dotted with faction troops, a young woman alone in the wilderness is easy pickings, even one as bright and witty as Ayko. When she is caught near military settlement and taken for a spy, Ayko is faced with the biggest and most painful decision of her life.
Deprived of her freedom by Q`un`s famous Master Xang, a man who permits no disobedience from those in his care, Ayko realizes that her rebellion and subsequent exile have brought her to a world in which men command, and women are treated with a firm hand. Can she allow herself to submit to the charming Master who all too often turns her over his lap and spanks her soundly for her bratty misbehavior? Or will her pride and fierce independent streak demand that she flee once more into the dangerous countryside?
[...] The Miscreant and the Master [...]
[...] The Miscreant and the Master [...]