Just under two weeks later (five-day weeks; being in the capital had resolved him on thinking in modern terms as much as possible, at least until this whole affair ended), Sano returned from Elotica. All things considered, he was in quite a cheerful mood, and even sang a little as he walked the wide road between the two cities — only a little, though, since the road was fairly busy and he didn’t want to attract too much attention.
Not far inside Enca, on the main market street, his eye caught on a stand of fine-looking fruits in bright pyramids. Mouth beginning to water, he grinned ruefully at the thought that though he’d left the orchards, the orchards apparently never left him… a nice big shiny apple would be perfect right about now, regardless of how many times in the past, sweating in the hot sun, arms aching from the tenth bushel he’d hauled in the last couple of hours, he’d cursed the very existence of apples and sworn never to eat one again.
In order to preserve his dwindling funds (having left much of the money he possessed behind for Hajime to continue paying the inn bill with), he’d limited himself, in the city, to as little food as he could possibly get by on, so he hadn’t had breakfast any time recently. It was getting to be nearer lunch time now — another meal he would probably end up skipping today — and an apple seemed all the more appetizing in the face of this. Well, he would just have a look at their prices.
The latter were so reasonable, and the fruit up close so appealing, he simply couldn’t resist. And the semi-guilty determination on this extravagance led to another brief internal debate: buy one apple and finish it before he reached the inn so Hajime would never know, or buy two apples and hope the gift would justify the expenditure in the knight’s eyes? After not a great deal of thought, he went with the second option.
He was more eager than he would have expected, he’d discovered since rising today, to get back. Not only had he found out some interesting and probably useful things, which would undoubtedly surprise the skeptical and exacting Hajime, there was also some anxiety that would not be banished about the safety of said Hajime, hiding as he was at a public inn practically on the doorstep of the city he’d fled not too long before. Sano comforted himself with the knowledge that there would surely have been a stir both here and in Elotica if Hajime had been captured, but he also restrained himself from eating his apple until he found out for sure.
The inn looked as it had two weeks ago, with no more or less bustle, no ominous Elotica city guards or Gontamei knights hanging around, or anything else that might have indicated sinister goings-on in his absence. He took the back stairs up to the east-wing second-floor corridor, and then paused for an embarrassed moment when he realized he didn’t remember which room he needed. Looking at the line of doors reminded him the next moment, however (even more embarrassed), that his key had the number painted on its flat bow. With both apples clumsily in one hand, he sought out the key, checked the number, moved to the appropriate door, and began to unlock it. Softly through the expanding aperture as he opened it he called, “It’s me.”
Hajime had pushed the table away from the window, and now sat on one of the stools in a position where he could look out the open shutter and, presumably, take some minimal entertainment from whatever went on in the yard and the properties visible nearby. At the moment, it appeared the interest and wariness with which he’d directed his eyes toward the door was the greatest instance of those emotions he’d felt any time in the last eight days; he looked as bored as anyone Sano had ever seen, and there was, for half a second, visible pleasure in his face at the sight of Sano entering.
“Hey,” Sano greeted him, tossing down his backpack onto the bed on the left and stretching. “I’m back.”
“So I see.” Hajime’s voice gave no hint he was glad to see his companion, and by this time his expression had also adjusted to indifference, which was a little annoying but simultaneously unsurprising.
“Everything all right here?”
“Yes,” Hajime replied impatiently. “Why wouldn’t it be?”
“Oh, I dunno… because you’re a fugitive from the conquering regime, maybe?” Sano was a little stung by the implication that he wasn’t allowed to express concern for Hajime and his situation here, but it didn’t bother him as much as it would have if it hadn’t been clearly obvious Hajime was bored out of his mind and far more eager to hear what Sano had learned than to discuss the last eight days of sitting around looking out the window.
Hajime relented a little at having it pointed out that Sano had a legitimate reason to ask. “It’s been fine. The inn staff are polite and don’t ask questions. I’ve avoided everyone else.”
“Good, good.” Sano sat down on the bed. “All right, what do you want to hear first?”
“That depends on which of our points you managed to find out anything about.”
“All of them, thank you very much!”
“Even where the king is being held?”
“Oh, no, not that. Sorry. I forgot about that.”
“How could you forget about that??” Hajime sounded almost horrified.
“I mean I forgot about it just now,” Sano assured him hastily, “not while I was in town.” He tried not to sound affronted at the idea he might forget something so important, but couldn’t help feeling it a little.
Irritably Hajime commanded, “Tell me about the royal houses.”
“Fine.” Sano let out an annoyed, huffing breath, wondering why their every conversation seemed to go this way. He’d even been glad to see the knight at first — gladder than he’d expected — and yet it had taken Hajime less than five minutes to get under his skin again. But he drew the breath back in deeply, forcing calm upon himself before he began.
“So it was strange. From what I heard, there’s hardly anybody from either royal family in town, and the ones that are are staying way the hell out of this. In fact, supposedly some Gontamei princess packed up and left the moment Soujirou did his thing. Of course that was just the gossip I overheard, since I didn’t want to come right out and ask anyone, but it still seemed really strange even to me who doesn’t know a damn thing about the royal houses.”
Hajime was nodding slowly. “It’s a hint that the main push for the usurpation came from somewhere else; the royalty want to make it clear they’ve had nothing to do with this and aren’t taking sides. I thought that might be the case.”
Throwing up a frustrated hand Sano demanded, “Then why’d you ask me to find out about the royal families?” He thought of how long he’d spent hanging around big rich houses pretending to be browsing for work as household staff so he could gossip with the existing household staff, and wondered whether it had all been a waste of time.
“Don’t be stupid,” said Hajime dismissively. “Of course we’re not going to ignore them even if it seems like the divine houses need more of our attention.”
Well, he did have a point. Again Sano forced himself to remain calm. Seeking something to do with his hands and reminded by his gesture a moment ago of the apples he held, he now began to juggle them as he continued speaking. “Everyone’s wondering what’s gonna be the reaction from people like Fumio and Shinorutei and Hokichi. I didn’t hear any real news about any of them, just a lot of guessing.”
And it had damn well taken him long enough to figure out, without actually asking and thereby making himself look like an idiot, that Fumio was Kenshin’s grandfather and a former dantaoji, and Hokichi his great-uncle and prince of Encoutia (which latter fact Sano, having been born in Encoutia, really should already have known). Of course Shinorutei was Kenshin’s mother dantaoji, who had acted as regent after his mother the queen had died and before he’d been old enough to rule on his own; Sano knew that much. He was sure Hajime knew all of it, though. Stupid politics.
“That will be interesting to see,” said Hajime in pensive agreement. “None of them will have any material power in this issue, but they all could have considerable influence. They could be in considerable danger as well, since Soujirou and his people will also be aware of that influence… I hope, whatever they do, they do it carefully. I wonder how Houji will react, too.”
“That was another name I heard a lot,” Sano nodded. “Most people I heard mention him feel like he’s got more right to be offended by Soujirou than even anyone from Barenor’mei.” After all, if any Gontameiji had a right to the throne, it would be Houji, the senior prince; Soujirou was something like eighth in line. “No real news about him, though, or any of the others. Not much real news about anything, actually. Everyone’s talking, but not actually saying much of anything.”
Sighing, he caught one apple in each hand, flopped onto his back on the bed, and directed his words now toward the ceiling. “You were right about the people… They’re like wandering little kids, but not know-it-all kids like Yahiko. They don’t know what to think, and they’re all looking for someone to tell them. If any resistance is gonna happen, I couldn’t figure out where… there was plenty of arguing going on in the inn I stayed at, but it never seemed like it was gonna go anywhere.”
“Typical. What did you find out about the divine houses?”
“Well, I knocked a Kaoru devoted over the head and took his shiiya–”
“You have an interesting idea of lying low,” murmured Hajime.
“–and wandered into Kaoru’s neighborhood pretending to be some new devoted who just came from a small-town shrine. I played stupid at the first gullible-looking person I met, and the guy showed me around everywhere and answered all my questions.”
Tone unaltered, Hajime remarked, “‘…played stupid…'”
“Yeah, shut up. So Kaoru’s white’s this girl Ayame, and I guess her gold sister is always with her and they pretty much run the house together. They support Kenshin, and everyone knows it.” Hajime had mentioned something like this during their walk to Enca, when he’d been reporting on what gossip he was familiar with about the divine houses, but Sano was determined to be thorough so Hajime could find no fault with his report.
“Yes…” Hajime sounded as if this was exactly in keeping with what he knew. “Kaoru is Kenshin’s lady, and her house has been the highest-favored in Elotica for years.”
“Those girls are interesting, though,” Sano mused. “While I was in their plaza they came out and did this thing…”
Kaoru’s center of worship in Elotica was tiled in red and hung with red and painted red. It didn’t look bad, necessarily, but Sano couldn’t help thinking that anyone living here must, in response, be angry quite a lot of the time. He wondered whether the Kaoru devoted considered themselves closer to the hypothetical lady of righteous wrath whenever they were feeling her emotion. Pissed off though he himself often was, he didn’t think he could stand to spend much time here.
The devoted at his side, wearing, as Sano was, a red shiiya marked with a white teardrop shape containing Kaoru’s erupting volcano symbol, chattered away about the plaza they’d just entered. He knew far too much of its history — primarily the names of what Sano supposed were notable followers of Kaoru and the precise years in which they had done what Sano supposed were notable things here in this very place — and it was all Sano could manage pretending to be interested. Fortunately, he got the feeling the devoted was trying to impress him — probably hoping Sano could be enticed into bed later — and therefore was hypersensitive to encouragement.
The plaza decorating, Sano had to admit, could be considered somewhat attractive if you liked austere red. It was remarkable how many rocks of that color, great and small, they’d managed to find to fill the plots between the building’s walls and the tiled ground. Sano, who hadn’t thought rocks could be arranged to nearly such good effect, was impressed at the layout. He couldn’t help wondering, though, to what extent weeds poked up among the artistically-arranged stones, and how much service for the populace — usually an essential function of red devoted — was being neglected in favor of the maintenance of Kaoru’s rock gardens.
The temple, like most religious establishments, was a five-sided structure surrounding a central space that could be accessed through an opening in the pentagon’s base. In this case, the building was so massive that the inside space was the plaza, big enough to hold special fundraising markets and holiday gatherings. A twelve-sided stone platform in the center, two steps above the tiles (undoubtedly intended for preaching from, ritual prayers, and Kaoru knew what else), was at the moment covered with lounging devoted — mostly reds and first-wash — enjoying an outside lunch in the pleasant autumn air. With the high walls of the temple all around, midday was probably about their only opportunity for sunlight in here.
The chatty devoted at his side had started talking about a statue that had previously stood on the platform and the circumstances that had removed it, when he cut off suddenly with, “Oh, look.” Following the direction of his gaze, Sano observed, approximately opposite across the plaza, a couple of woman whose attire marked them as the highest officials of this house.
It gave Sano an odd feeling seeing their shiiyao, one having been washed in a bleaching solution four times until it was off-white and the other only three so it remained a yellowish gold. He hadn’t really moved among devoted since his childhood when his father had been alive, didn’t believe in anything they did, and had been observing all of this thus far with a detachment half fascinated and half disgusted — but there was yet something interesting, even exciting, about being so close to the white devoted of any house, if only because he or she was someone most citizens would probably never meet.
This white devoted was a young woman, no older than Sano himself, carrying a staff the way all whites supposedly did and looking ready to use it cheerfully on anyone that annoyed her — though the keonblade she wore at her side in a red sheath would probably be more effective. Even from a distance, Sano liked the way she carried herself: determined, one step away from aggressive, and yet, oddly enough, relatively friendly. The third-wash woman beside her, perhaps just a little younger, had the same brown hair, and features similar enough, at least from this far off, to mark the two as close relations.
Sano considered asking what their names were, whether they were sisters or what, and why they were both so young in positions he generally associated with greybeards, but thought better of it. This was all information he probably should have known if he’d really been a devoted of Kaoru, and he didn’t want to make his guide suspicious. He would undoubtedly be able to pick it up along the way.
“Come on, let’s get closer,” the red at his side said. Wondering why they, along with several others on the plaza, were now suddenly mobbing their superiors, Sano followed at his gesture.
“Friends!” the pretty white cried as soon as she was a good distance from the door she’d come out of. She tossed her staff aside without even looking where she threw it, and it was caught so readily by someone nearby that Sano deemed this a regular occurrence. Then she drew her keonblade, letting the energy flash out into a sword-like shape perhaps just a touch longer than was typical, and began swinging it carelessly through the air. “Who will challenge us?” she cried, grinning around at the various approaching devoted.
The gold, drawing a sword that seemed to be a match to the one the white carried, expanded on her superior’s offer. “Any weapons! Any techniques! Bring them all!” And without another word, she and her sister (as Sano, drawing closer, had decided to assume the other must be) fell into a defensive position, back-to-back, just slightly offset so the right hand of each had plenty of room to swing its bright weapon.
The rasp of swords leaving sheaths suddenly sounded from one end of the plaza to another, and the glow of spiritual energy on keonblades actually seemed to be making a visible difference to the level of light even under the bright sun. It wasn’t just keonblades, though: there were standard swords, daggers, staves, a few brass knuckles, and even a couple of weapons Sano didn’t recognize offhand. The devoted specifically accompanying Sano had a pair of long knives.
Those that weren’t interested in challenging the white and the gold were moving outward toward the edges of the plaza and the temple walls, some of them grumbling a little but none of them concerned or appearing to think this anything out of the ordinary; and the atmosphere had changed abruptly from business as usual, if perhaps a little more tense than elsewhere in the city, to a jovial combative hum. It was like nothing Sano had ever seen before.
“Yes,” Hajime commented, “they do that fairly regularly, I’ve heard.” Once again he sounded as if none of this was in any way news.
“Misao’s lockpicks!” Sano swore in protest. “If you already know everything I found out, why bother me going in to find it?”
Hajime gave a sarcastic monosyllabic laugh, unexpectedly did not point out that the combative habits of Kaoru’s higher-wash wasn’t what Sano had gone into town to find out about, and said, “Just go on.”
“Anyway, when I attacked them–”
This time the knight broke in emphatically enough to force Sano to stop speaking. “Why did you attack them? I told you not to stand out.”
Sano sat up and threw one of the apples he held at Hajime’s face. The knight caught the missile only just in time, his expression a mirror of Sano’s annoyed glare. “I wasn’t standing out!” Sano said. “Plenty of people were attacking them! And if they do that all the time, and people challenge them all the time, wouldn’t it look weirder if some guy wearing a fucking sword didn’t attack them?”
After a moment, Hajime’s brows loosened their constriction over his eyes, and he said, “Fine,” and left it at that.
“It was amazing.” The interest of the memory overrode Sano’s irritation, and he continued in a tone of wonder. “Nobody could touch them! They just stayed back-to-back and moved like they were one person, and kept everyone back.” He himself had found, and not for the first time on this journey, that he could maintain his energy blade with little trouble for some reason, despite not being angry just then… but his attack had been thrown off with nearly the same level of ease and unconcern as Seijuurou had often shown while sparring with him — and that was saying something. “I don’t know what kind of technique it was, but they were… amazing.”
“I’m sure they were,” said Hajime, a little patronizingly. With supercilious eyes he was examining the apple he held.
“Have you ever tried fighting them?” Sano demanded. “I bet you couldn’t touch them either.”
“I’m not a devoted, idiot. They only do it on their own plaza.”
“Riiight.” Sano mimicked Hajime’s raised brow, but with his version of the expression tried to convey skepticism at this obvious excuse. It didn’t much matter, though, since Hajime was looking at the apple and not at him, and presently just ordered him to go on.
Sano obeyed. “So I hung around there until I found out about Ayame and Suzume and whose side they’re on. Seems like nobody was even surprised when they told everyone officially they didn’t approve of this stealing-the-throne business; actually I think people’d have been surprised if they hadn’t.
“But they’re not doing anything about it. At least not openly, not yet. I got the feeling someone there might try something eventually, but they’re waiting for something. Waiting for it to feel safe, maybe. And meanwhile all the Kaoru devoted are just going on like they always did, which I think is sending a message to the city people that they should just keep going like they always have.”
Hajime nodded, frowning, still regarding the apple as if it were positively riveting, though Sano didn’t think he was really looking at it anymore. “And there’s no way to tell whether Kaoru’s response is the usual hypocrisy about the divine houses staying out of politics,” he murmured, “or a circumspect way of supporting Soujirou while claiming to support Kenshin.”
Sano, to whom this had occurred (not entirely without external prompting), mimicked his nod. After a moment of pensive silence he shook himself and said, “Anyway, so then I went to see about Tomoe.”
“You knocked out another devoted to steal another shiiya, I assume?” Hajime’s tone was a little weary as he asked.
Sano had to admit he didn’t feel at all good about having done that — and not just because it wasn’t nearly as subtle as both he and Hajime would have preferred him to be on this venture. But all he said in reply was, “Hey, the bright side is that, now I have the lady-damned things, I won’t have to do it again.”
Hajime rolled his eyes.
Ignoring this, Sano went on. “So I did the same thing that worked at Kaoru, and it worked there too…”
Around each of the five temples in Elotica was a neighborhood containing everything related to the running of the religious branch that didn’t fit into the temple itself: housing for the devoted and their families — since only the most highly ranked lived inside the temple — storage facilities, offices, and Sano knew not what else. The temples nestled in corners of the main city walls, and the associated area had to be traversed to reach each one; fortunately for Sano, who’d already gotten lost more than once in this complex city, the temples themselves were so big that, once you were in their general vicinity, they were impossible to miss.
Fanatical dedication to lady-specific coloring was apparent the very instant Sano stepped onto the first street of any of these neighborhoods. But whereas Kaoru’s color agitated and overwhelmed, Tomoe’s dejected him unexpectedly. He didn’t know whether brighter purples were more expensive or difficult to come by, or whether the followers of the lady of death thought a hue closer to black was more appropriate to display their zeal, but the entire place was dark and dreary from top to bottom. Among all this gloomy deep purple, Sano’s eyes were singularly grateful for the sight of all the red and orange shiiyao of the lower-ranking devoted that comprised most of the traffic in this area.
His face must have been showing the increasing dismay these surroundings induced, for, as he walked past what was pretty clearly one of the quarters or barracks or whatever they called them, one red devoted broke away from a small group of her fellows talking by the door and came toward him.
“Good morning!” she said, and there was kindness in her tone, undoubtedly in response to his morbid demeanor.
“Morning,” Sano replied, looking her over. She was slender almost to the point of frailty, with big, liquidy eyes that drooped so far they must surely slide off her face one of these days and gave her a perpetually sad expression — or perhaps that effect was achieved by all the dark purple. The droopy eyes were that same color; he reflected disrespectfully that this was probably the primary reason she’d become a follower of Tomoe.
“You must be new,” she smiled. “Are you lost?”
He took interested note of the fact that she recognized him as a newcomer on sight; he’d thought there must be too many devoted for any one of them to be that familiar with the group. But, he reminded himself, his hair was fairly distinctive: he rarely combed it, and it probably couldn’t have been more obvious even at a casual glance that he would have hacked it short in an instant if anyone in this narrow-minded society would be willing to do business with him under those shockingly deviant circumstances.
He cleared his throat. “Yeah, I just got into town today,” he answered her assumption. To the question he replied with a forced grin, “I’ve already gotten lost a couple of times–” which of course was true– “but right now I’m just looking around this neighborhood.” He threw a slightly helpless glance at the buildings that, like shadows themselves in their depressing hues, cast morning shadows over the both of them.
She smiled again. It was a sad-looking little smile to match her sad-looking eyes. “Well, I could show you around, if you’d like; I have nothing to do until second bell.”
The regular sound of bells ringing out the hours from the palace in the center of town was something Sano hadn’t yet become accustomed to and wasn’t entirely sure he liked… but he grudgingly had to admit its usefulness for citywide punctuality. He might even remark upon it at some point, since his cover story was still that he’d just been transferred here from a rural shrine. But at the moment he only said, “Thanks!” in legitimate gratitude and satisfaction. “That’d be great!”
Droop-eyes turned out to be every bit as knowledgeable about the neighborhood and plaza, and the goings-on therein, as the Kaoru guy that had given Sano a similar tour over the last couple of days; Sano figured there was probably a helpful know-it-all type ready to escort newcomers around in every corner of town. But whereas that Kaoru guy (whose name Sano had already forgotten) had, to all appearances, been motivated primarily by lechery, this woman (whose name he eventually learned was Toki) seemed to be acting out of genuine kindness. Sano wasn’t sure whether, under the circumstances, he preferred an interest he didn’t at all return or a kindness he felt a little guilty about taking advantage of.
His excuse at Kaoru’s plaza for why he wouldn’t be staying with the other devoted in their quarters had been insubstantial in the extreme, and he’d actually been a little surprised that his amorous guide hadn’t pursued the matter, but today he had a much better answer to give to the polite questions Toki asked in her quest to help him out as much as possible.
Yesterday he’d overheard a Kaoru devoted — an actual newly arrived red from a country village — grumbling about how quickly upon arrival she’d been assigned to assist the city guards in a sentry job at the other end of town and how she would have to stay there, rather than in Kaoru’s neighborhood, for several days. It was easy to regurgitate this, right down to the slightly disgruntled tone of one that would much rather be rooming with fellow devoted during the first nights in a new city. And Toki, glancing at the sword he wore, seemed to think this story perfectly plausible.
Armaments among the Tomoe devoted were much more scarce than among Kaoru’s followers. There, nearly everyone had borne a weapon of some sort, and Sano had observed more than a few relatively good-natured spars break out over practically nothing during the last couple of days in the red neighborhood… but here it was almost the complete opposite. Tomoe devoted seemed to strive, rather, to outdo each other in accommodation. Their no, after you mentality was somewhat amusing, but Sano didn’t think he could stomach it for very long.
On the way to the plaza, Toki listed the functions of the buildings they passed, as well as some trivia about the plaza itself once they entered it. Completely disinterested in most of this, Sano made a few futile attempts at getting her to talk about house politics and the higher-wash, but she didn’t seem to take the hint. Finally, when she’d just finished up a relatively enthusiastic (considering her placid tone) description of their ritual prayer traditions here, Sano applied a blunter force.
The temple and the plaza were built to precisely the same design as Kaoru’s, though with actual gardens of various purple flowers in place of rock gardens, and Sano had his eyes fixed on the door from whose red correspondent at Kaoru’s temple he’d seen the white Ayame and the gold Suzume emerge. “Do you think I’m likely ever to meet the fourth-wash?” he asked. “It’s not something you ever expect back in Esabanca–” this was the totally made-up town whence he supposedly came– “but now that I’m here…” He trailed off as if he didn’t want to be putting himself forward or soliciting false hope.
Toki gave him that wan smile of hers again. “I don’t see why not… if you’re around here long enough, you’re sure to meet him eventually. It probably won’t be today, though, since the Devoted Council meets on Yum’hyou and I believe Enishi spends the rest of the day taking care of any other business he has at the palace or in that part of town.”
Sano had never heard of a Devoted Council and didn’t know what part of town she meant, but, since a devoted probably should have heard and should know, he didn’t ask. Instead he just nodded.
Obviously Hajime too had never heard of a Devoted Council, but just as obviously had a guess. He broke into Sano’s account at this point to demand in a tone of curiosity tinged with something darker, like suspicion or even horror, “Devoted Council?”
“I’ll get to that,” Sano assured him; “hang on.”
Hajime took one last bite of the apple he’d mostly finished, then set the core down on the table and chewed with a thoughtful frown as Sano continued his account.
Regretting the necessity for such directness but seeing no other way, Sano asked, “Has he had anything to say about the new king?”
Fortunately, Toki’s expression didn’t change; whatever her personal views on the subject, she didn’t seem to regard his question as suspicious. “He’s issued house-wide instructions that we’re to carry on as usual. There’s no reason for any of us to concern ourselves with who’s king… it doesn’t change anything here.” She sounded placid enough as she delivered the words, and it seemed a good bet to Sano that she agreed with them.
Actually, now he thought about it, Tomoe was (among all the other silly things she stood for) the lady of acceptance, wasn’t she? Tomoe’s followers probably had no choice but to accept Soujirou if they didn’t want to look like even bigger hypocrites than all devoted already were. Even if this Enishi didn’t approve of the change in government, there was nothing he could do about it openly, not even express disapprobation… and if he wanted to do anything about it covertly, this random red off the street undoubtedly wouldn’t know.
Even as Sano related these last few thoughts, it struck him suddenly that the official response of the house of Tomoe to the new regime had been the entire point of this part of his story, and it had taken many fewer words to tell than the far-less-necessary rest of it. And before, in his account of his experience in Kaoru’s neighborhood, he’d gotten caught up in describing things as he’d seen them and relating his impressions on all manner of only peripherally related aspects of the experience.
And yet Hajime hadn’t stopped him or given any signs of impatience (with Sano’s storytelling methods, at least). He’d even nodded subtle agreement at Sano’s assessment of the ladies’ colors and their probable effect on the moods of their followers, and laughed a little at the description of a woman whose eyes seemed ready to slide off her face at any moment. Perhaps he was humoring Sano; he must realize this was not only Sano’s first visit to the capital but his first close contact with the central branches of a religion on which he’d turned his back and by which he’d always felt persecuted. Of course Sano would get a little carried away in describing what he’d seen and heard over the last several days, and perhaps Hajime understood.
Unsure if he could ascribe to the knight such a generous impulse toward himself, Sano recollected by way of additional explanation that Hajime had been sitting in a small, undecorated room with nothing to do and no one to talk to for almost two weeks, extremely bored in addition to the concern he’d already been feeling for the king and the country’s situation. It was no real surprise if he didn’t mind a bit of unnecessary elaboration.
Still, whatever Hajime’s reasons for not protesting, Sano didn’t want to give the impression that he’d lost track even a little of his real mission in favor of sight-seeing. He didn’t want to provide Hajime with any excuse to denounce his efforts. So he resolved to tighten up his narrative, be a little more professional, for the rest of his report. He was going to impress Hajime one of these days if it killed him.