Shitagahi (Submission)

 “Get up. If you don’t want to be stuck in servitude forever, here’s your chance.”

Instinctively, Muna rose to her feet, though with some struggle since her hands were still tied behind her back. This too was strange. Typically Muna’s instincts would tell her to never do what another man ordered her to, let alone to listen to what they had to say. And yet, for what it was worth, Muraji had humiliated her only a few moments ago; made her trip on her own words and then cornered her like a wounded dog, forcing her to yield. He had dominated her—not in the way most men seek to dominate women, but in the way men dominate one another. But both of these types they had learned from the animals. They were signs, not words.

The history of the Yamato would later relate that, not knowing how to consummate their marriage, Izanagi and Izanami, divine creators of Aki, Tsukushi, and the many more islands which the Yamato would call home, looked to the birds for guidance. In the same way, all the people on these islands looked to its creatures to show them how to yield; surrender, apology, homage—these were all different ways they had found to dress up that primitive sign. In this moment, Muna's mind bore the brand, whether she knew it or willed it or not, of Muraji’s own sign.

Before Muraji gave Muna his terms for release, he went over to a spot just beyond the two of them, a natural and shallow ditch. He bent down, picked up two long objects, and carried them over to her before laying them at her feet. Both were weapons—a sword and a spear. Though her memory of the weapons the brothers had used against her was but a blur, she could readily identify them now. After all, the spear had been chipped and nearly split in two in the same spot she had used to block the older brother’s sword. The sword too, she saw now, had been bent by that same impact.

“You did this, didn’t you, Muna?” asked Muraji of her. Muna opened her lips, straining get a reply out from them, but Muraji did not give her much time before he continued on.

“We’re facing a…tough battle, here. Many of our men will most likely die. If we lose, our village will be punished severely—I might lose my own life, too. But don’t think they’ll let you off the hook if it comes to that. This kimi and his men are ruthless, and they despise the Hayato even more than some of us do. If they don’t kill you outright, they’ll take you up north to Tsukushi, where you’ll have the living of a dog alongside hundreds more Hayato and Kumaso. You won’t be ‘Muna’ anymore, you’ll just be ‘that girl’, or ‘that nursemaid’, or ‘that concubine’. But…if you fight alongside us and kill their men, I’ll give you your freedom. You can run off back into the mountains where you came from, just so long as you don’t come near us again. Those boys told me what kind of fight you put up—if it hadn’t been the both of them against you, you might very well have won. Now, what do you say?”

Fear. Desperation. Muna sensed more of these coming from Muraji than she could sense coming from herself. A chief situated up north, with a whole legion of slaves—this must have been the same chief Muna had heard the Hayato speak of. Umisachi. Muraji knew this chief, this kimi, by name. Perhaps Muraji had once submitted to him. And if that was true, then the cause of this attack was clear: submission had been revoked where it was due. Muraji, or this kimi he now served, or both, had cut ties with this other kimi. Umisachi had come to reap what he was owed—not simply tribute, but a generous share of their food, livestock, and perhaps human laborers as well. Beneath all of Muraji’s rhetoric was a simple fear of the consequences.

But Muna was won over. Given how hostile the brothers had been to her already, she could easily see a similar thing happening once she was face-to-face with this Umisachi and his men. Muna despised killing other people, but once again she felt herself compelled to look to the creatures for guidance. Even a cornered dog could kill, if it meant saving its own life. Put in a similar situation among men, even Muna might do the same. If she obeyed her instinct to survive and earned her freedom that way, what objection could be raised? And, of course, she had other plans if this one fell through.

Muna grabbed the sword from Muraji.

“And if I just run away?”

“I’ll find you, and I’ll kill you then.”

She planted the sword in the ground.

“Then I’ll follow you. Get me my bow and my arrows back.”

Muraji chuckled. “Good. It’s a deal.”