1Otomo raised his head and watched the group on the hilltop. He was more terrified than he had ever been in his life, but his shrewd mind was working on overtime almost in spite of itself. The fire had gone out, but the tall, majestic figures still dwarfed The Seppun. She seemed to be talking to them, bowing everytime one of them spoke and holding the bow when they spoke among themselves. There was only starlight to illuminate the scene and they were too far away for the night air to carry their words to the assembled tribe below. There was no moon, which was the most unnerving to Otomo. Why had the moon gone out just before the fiery stars fell to earth?
Finally, The Seppun turned and led the way down the hill, her husband walking at his side. The tall figures followed her. When she came into the firelight, her face was white. "My people!" She proclaimed. "Finally, just as we asked for guidance from the Great Ones... the Great Ones have come. They will lead us. They are our new masters."
There was muttering, shocked and weary.
"We are honored to serve the Great Ones!" The Seppun proclaimed. "It is right that we serve them and teach them about our world."
One of them, a proud man and strong, rested his hand on the hilt of the great knife at his waist. A beautiful woman placed her hand briefly on his wrist. "It is only natural that such mortals should doubt and fear," She murmured in a voice lovely and clear. Raising her voice that it would drift across the entire crowd, she said, "We do not come to conquer and enslave. We come to live among you. We are the O-kami, the children of the sun and moon. We have fallen long and far to come here. We wish only rice and tea and a pillow to rest our heads."
There was some more muttering, and some women rose to return to the fires. The Seppun glared at some of them, but she seemed to have no idea of where to go from here. Slowly, Otomo rose to his knees. "Great Ones, fallen from the heavens. Can this lowly one speak?"
"It speaks well," One of the men, tall and dark said, his maple-red lips startling against his pale face. "I say, let the mortal speak."
"It would be kind to forgive us," Otomo said, and an apologetic smile crossed his own lips. "We are tired, we are confused. Every family among us today has lost brothers and sons to our enemies. And then the very stars fall from heaven. We are afraid. We wish reassurance amidst the terror and sorrow we feel. The Seppun prayed for guidance from the Great Ones. The rest of us pray for food, for safety, for our dead." He lifted his chin. "It is only the way of mortals that some here are afraid of trickery from our enemies, that doubt that the Great Ones, who have never shown themselves among us before, can have come at such a... momentous time."
The proud one gripped the blade of his great knife even more tightly. A second man, tall and dark, nearly identical to the first save only that he wore red glowing garments rather than black nodded slowly. "We can believe such weakness. Who has not felt it among mortals?"
"He dares to question us! Us! A mere mortal!" The proud one spat.
"And Akodo, would you not? If strangers came among us after a battle and demanded sustenance? Spare him for his honesty, if nothing else. Mortal man, are you a leader among mortal men?"
"He is an artisan, not a warrior," One of the other men of the tribe spat. "He is a coward who works with his hands rather than fighting our enemies!"
Otomo, used to the abuse, kept his face even and steady. "I am one who has courage to say what others do not." He said, his voice even.
The Seppun stepped hurriedly forward. "I depend on Otomo's advice, oh Great Ones!" She said. "He is perceptive and sees the hearts of men. And he is no coward. He has a twisted foot, and bright lights bring on fits. That is why he does not fight!"
"She defends him as she would her own man," One of the tribe women.
"This woman, Seppun, is a servant of the gods. If she speaks for this man, I accept him." One of the other Great Ones spoke now, his hair gathered in a bun behind and his forehead shaved in front. He spoke with an absolute authority that took Otomo aback for a moment. No one used such commanding language, and his quiet voice was a strange contrast to the words he used. "I will take this man into my service and he will tell me the hearts of mortals. Any who calls him a coward will answer to the strength of my blade."
He drew that immense blade, and the crowd fell silent again, eyeing the naked steel in his hand.
"What is your name, mortal man?"
"I am called Otomo." He answered, and for the first time, he bowed.
"Do you accept me as your lord and protector, Otomo?"
He hesitated. Then, all eyes on him, he rose to his feet and bowed like a warrior, his bad leg twisting horribly beneath him. "I will serve you to the best of my ability, my lord."
The large, calm man slipped the large blade back into his wide cloth belt. He drew a shorter blade from beside the first and offered it to Otomo on both palms. A decorative wooden cover hid the blade from view. "Then accept this wakizashi as a symbol of my authority, and the authority you are given above men through me. Serve me well, Otomo, second of my mortal servants."
"Thank you, my lord." Otomo said and took the blade. Not knowing what else to do, he shoved it through his own rope belt and bowed again, the pain of his twisted leg almost beyond compare. There was silence in the clearing, as no one seemed to know what to do. Then women scurried forward with bowls of wild rice and others followed with a tea brewed from healing herbs. They passed them among the Great Ones, who tasted and invariably made faces.
"We have much work to do here, it seems," The beautiful Great One said with a sigh.
The calm Great One spoke again. "Go, mortals. Follow Seppun in the rituals to bring your dead to the judgment of Emma-O. My servant Otomo- sit beside me and tell me of the tribes of mortals. I will need your judgment."
Otomo limped across the clearing as the Great One seated himself on a rock beside the fire. The other Great Ones followed suit. Seeing the fire gleam on their blades, their metal body coverings, and the very cloth they wore, he swallowed hard, then took a deep breath. "Very well, oh Great Ones. To the north is the tribe of Isawa, a proud man who would be sorcerer-king. He can compel the spirits to obey him and uses the blood of his followers to anchor the spirits to the rituals he weaves..."
It had gotten late, and Otomo was growing weary. These Great Ones- or O-kami as they called themselves- seemed not to tire as they continued to ask question after question of him and to talk among themselves. The metal plate where the blade met the hilt on his new wakizashi was digging into his ribs. Long ago, the wailing had ceased as the rest of the tribe mourned their dead and returned to their tents. Still Otomo sat, his leg at least stretched out in front of him so that that there was no discomfort from that angle. He struggled to pay attention as his eyes fought to close.
"What is this sensation?" The beautiful Great One- Doji, he had learned her name was- said, and she placed her hands over her lips. "Excuse me! I don't know how I could possibly be so rude!"
"It's odd," Bayushi agreed. "I have the strangest wish to lay down and close my eyes."
"Do the Gre- O-kami not sleep in the heavens?" Otomo asked in amazement.
"Sleep?" Akodo leaned forward, his eyes intense. "Explain, mortal."
Otomo felt a rush of resentment again. Hantei, his new master, and some of the others were perfectly willing to call him by his name, but this brother of his master's insisted on referring to him simply as 'mortal'. He forced himself to breathe deeply and not yawn in Akodo's face. "Tiredness. At the end of day, when the Gre- O-kami of the moon rises in the east, mortals lay down and close their eyes. In this way, our bodies and minds rest and recover. We see visions when we sleep, memories and things we have never imagined, but when we awake we are ready to work for another day."
"Isn't it dangerous?" Shinjo asked with interest. She, too, covered her lips, hiding her yawn.
"Yes," Akodo agreed. "At such a time, one's enemies could come upon him unawares, while he was vulnerable. I don't like this."
"Visions, memories, and fantasies?" Shiba asked, his voice thoughtful. "Brothers, sisters... does not this sound remarkably like the realm of Yume-do? Do mortals visit Yume-do when they do this action of 'sleep'?"
"But... why do we feel tiredness?" Doji asked. "We're not mortal."
"We are now," Togashi spoke now for the first time. He actually started Otomo, who sat forward, suddenly alert again. "The moment we set foot in this new realm, it claimed us and we became of its substance. The longer we stay here, the more mortal we become."
"We must instantly find our way home to our mother's realm!" Akodo shouted, rising precipitously to his feet and drawing his blade, more from habit it seemed than any intent to use it.
"We cannot. We are lord and master here, now." Togashi said, his voice still calm. "I have forseen it."
"Impossible." Akodo's nostrils flared with anger and he glared at his brother. "Shiba, use your learning! Cast a spell and..."
"Even all of Shiba's learning cannot save us now," Shiba said dryly. "Akodo, be reasonable. You are asking me to not only transport myself, but our sisters, Bayushi, Togashi, Hantei, Hida, and yourself across the borders of the spirit realms when we have already taken on the Taint of this realm. We have no crystal, no protection... we might wind up anywhere."
"My lord Hantei," Otomo said into the quiet as Akodo flexed his hand on his drawn blade. "You gave me this weapon, this wakizashi, as a sign that I was your servant. Our tribe's Seppun swore herself and her husband to you before you accepted me. Why would you do such a thing if you intended to leave us? Our enemies are in the darkness somewhere, among their own tribe, celebrating their victory over us. They do not wipe us out tonight because they are cautious- they, too, will have seen the stars fall and wonder at their meaning. Will you abandon us?"
Hantei looked at him for a moment, then nodded. "I believe Shiba when he says he cannot do such a thing. We shall have to find another way to return to our home. In the meantime, I have a responsibility to this man, and to that woman, and to their tribe. We shall drive off their enemies... and then we must part. We cannot show partiality to only one tribe of mortals. We must explore this land in ningen-do, and determine if we can get home."
"When we leave, we can leave it better than we found it, at least," Doji agreed. "I will remain among them, to teach them to grow rice, build homes, and weave cloth."
Slowly, the others agreed.
"If we must indeed sleep now that we are in the mortal realm, let Togashi stand guard over us." Akodo said, his voice somewhat snide. "He has meditated long and cannot be as tired as the rest of us."
"I will as well," Hida rumbled in his low voice. "I fear nothing in this realm, but I will protect my brothers and sisters while they sleep. Akodo can watch while I sleep later."
"Then in the morning, after we have rested, you and I shall depart this place, Otomo, and we shall take the Seppun and her husband with us." Hantei decreed. Otomo bowed, hiding his dismay. He would only slow his master, and he knew he would become a burden. He would be cast aside, far from the tribe. He would be unable to save himself and he would die. That would be his reward for teaching these O-kami.
But surely the Seppun would not allow that. Surely, when the O-kami became disgusted with the slowness of his twisted leg, she would make sure that he at least was sponsored into another tribe, and Otomo could make himself useful again. The Seppun was compassionate. He need not worry.
Trying to convince himself thus, he led the O-kami to his tent and permitted them to lay down within. Then, painfully, he stretched out before the tent flap and fell at once to sleep.
