Utena, Revolutionary Girl Fan Fiction ❯ Love's Honor ❯ Chapter Six ( Chapter 6 )

[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]

Chapter Six

"I'm utterly curious, Saionji. With whom exactly are you
wishing to form an alliance?" Touga asked his friend.

Evening had fallen; the servants had arranged the Great Hall
for the meal shared by all in the fortress. As the various
members of Clan Saionji began to gather among the tables
below the salt -- an expensive commodity, salt was sparingly
passed out; only those at the high table had containers of
the white seasoning, while those in the lower seats had to
make do without -- the green-haired chieftain and his
overlord had remained there behind the table bolted to the
three-stepped dais. Once court had been adjourned, Saionji
had ordered one of his chambermaids to show Touga's
unusually-attired companion and her people to a guestroom
they could use. He had then grudgingly offered his foster
brother the seat of honor to his right for the upcoming
supper. The violet-eyed Saionji prince had then fallen into
a brooding silence while the elegant redhead had moved to
the offered chair.

"I'm not interested in telling you that, 'old friend',"
Saionji growled in annoyance. (Why can't he leave it be?
Hasn't he shown me up enough already? Always, I've been in
his shadow; always a step behind. Surely an alliance of
marriage to his sister would only keep me in the shade of
his glory.)

The Kiryuu chieftain merely nodded, slipping into a
melancholy quiet. It was obvious that his actions so far
had personally wounded Saionji even as they had helped
others around him. (Surely there must be some way to repair
our friendship and show him that there's no need for
jealousy.) Becoming lost in his thoughts, Touga found his
gaze wandering over to stare at the place from where he knew
his gentle guest would emerge upon her return.

Though it more than likely wasn't long at all before the
expected angelic vision appeared, it seemed to be an
eternity for the waiting, scarlet-haired lord. Although
he'd had his attention captured before by many a pretty,
feminine face, there was just something about this one that
dazzled and fascinated. The moment Lady Utena stepped
through the doorway, her small entourage in tow, it was as
if the Great Hall lit up from her very presence, like a
gloomy, overcast sky that suddenly broke to let through a
golden ray of the sun. Unaware of his own action, Touga
gave voice to a soft gasp of appreciation.

Once again with the coming of evening, she had undergone an
almost mystic transformation. Her long, rose-pink hair fell
loose in a cascade of silken curls. A white chemise, the
hems decorated with pale blue and silver embroidery above
the snowy white lace borders, peeked out from underneath a
deep blue surcoat laced up the sides with braided cord of
metallic silver, a fancy border of silver stitching in a
floral pattern adorning hem and bodice. Though her servants
were as elegantly attired, Utena easily outshone them all.

Eyes narrowed in his continuing irritation, his violet gaze
focused upon the servants preparing the low tables for the
upcoming meal as well as those of his people entering the
large room to partake of said fare, the faint sound his
friend made caught Saionji's attention. Glancing over at
Touga, the verdant-maned chieftain was mildly surprised to
see the other's handsome face frozen in an expression of
awed delight. Raising his emerald eyebrows in wonder, the
newly elevated chieftain turned his head to follow Touga's
cobalt-blue gaze, searching to discover what it was that had
grabbed his foster brother's focus so completely.

The moment he saw her, he immediately knew exactly why Touga
had warned him that the lady was not as she appeared to be.
From pretty "boy", she had become the epitome of womanly
charms, and a part of Saionji thought perhaps that his
childhood friend had fallen victim to some fey. But another
part of him made him sit upright in mild startlement; the
girl seemed oddly familiar. "Well," the green-haired lord
commented in a low murmur, "I truly see the wisdom of your
words, Lord Touga."

"Isn't she beautiful?" the scarlet-haired lord responded,
his voice equally low.

"Aye, she is that," Saionji grudgingly agreed, trying to
shake off the feeling that he'd seen her somewhere before.

"That, my friend, is the woman I'm determined to marry."

(What?) The curly-maned chieftain blinked in surprise,
violet eyes turning from the approach of the noblewoman to
look askance at his foster brother. (He must be truly
smitten. But what about . . .?)

Saionji glanced back at the lady in time to see her halt and
apparently direct her handmaidens and men at arms to find a
place among those sitting at the tables below the salt. As
her quartet of servants took their leave, the rose-haired
girl turned slightly and lifted her gaze to the high table.

Large aquamarine eyes, a shyly hesitant smile, silky curls
of a shining pink hue . . . (That girl!) Saionji mentally
gasped, violet eyes widening in realization, the echoed
voices of a remembered conversation playing out in the back
of his mind.

(I'm going to marry that girl some day, Saionji.)

(Are you mad, Touga? You'll marry whomever your father
wants for the best of the clan. Besides, you have no idea
who she is. She may not have anything worthy of such an
alliance.)

(I don't care. Something terrible happened to her -- you
can see it in her eyes -- and I swore I'd protect her from
anything else. I can't do that if she belongs to someone
else.)

"You're still mad, Touga, even if she's turned out to be of
noble blood," the newly elevated lord muttered, his
attention shifting back to his foster brother.

The redheaded chieftain chuckled softly. "So you recognize
her as well now," he said, his azure gaze finally focusing
on the other highland lord as the subject of their
discussion walked up the steps of the dais and made her way
along the back side of the bolted-down table. "I'm a man of
my word, Saionji. I said that I would keep her safe, and I
shall -- if she allows it."

"I suppose it's all for the better that she's noble and
beautiful both," the green-haired chieftain grumbled. (What
damnable good luck. Always. It would be fairer had she
grown up to be an ugly and noisome woman instead,) Saionji
mentally groused, feeling yet another pang of envy. For
just once he'd love to see the whims of Fortune toss
something *unlucky* at his friend.

"Well, it does help immensely," Touga reluctantly admitted.
Rising gracefully from his seat at the noblewoman's
approach, the scarlet-haired highlander hastily came to the
maiden's aid, pulling back the heavy wooden seat to his
right.

The tension between the pair of chieftains was almost
palpable to the pink-haired girl. Though she smiled and
murmured her thanks to the dashing noble that had come to
her assistance, Utena's mind remained focused on the men's
apparently broken friendship. Saionji's jealousy of his
foster brother and Touga's resulting melancholy was obvious
to anyone truly observing them. (Surely there must be some
way to a reconciliation. They're supposed to be the best of
friends . . .) That second thought made her pause. (Though
I know that to be true, how is it that I *know* that in the
first place?)

The gruff voice of the fortress's lord broke in on Utena's
bemused thoughts. "Welcome, my lady, to the hospitality of
my table," Saionji said. "Such as it may be," he added in a
harsh mutter.

(He wishes he could offer more, and is embarrassed at what
he can offer,) the rose-haired maiden mused, suddenly aware
of the motivation behind the highlander's acidic tone. She
gave him a warm smile in response. "Thank you very much for
your generosity, Lord Kyouichi. I'm delighted to accept,"
she honestly answered, certain that the young noble was
doing the best he could. Her smile only faltered slightly
when the only reply she received was a noncommittal grunt.

The conversation -- such as it was -- only became worse.
While the servants poured the wine and began bringing out
the first dish of the evening -- vegetable and leek soup,
the broth made richer by adding butter and cream -- Touga
did his best to politely inquire as to the current state of
the neighboring clan. Utena inwardly frowned as it became
apparent that the Saionji prince was becoming increasingly
defensive, his answers only vague ones and his attitude less
than forthright. To her possible champion's credit, he
never pressed on his friend to get a straight answer, though
he would certainly be well within his rights as overlord to
do so. More interested in watching the pair of them instead
of attempting to make conversation, Utena silently consumed
her meal.

"I must say that you've done remarkably well for yourself so
far," Touga said, trying once again to engage the other
chieftain in a discussion of the state of things. He was
certain he could somehow cheer his friend up by pointing out
the things that had gone right, if only he were allowed the
chance.

Aquamarine eyes scanned over the crowd of clansmembers
seated around the low tables. Though a far cry from the
boisterous atmosphere of celebration of the night before at
Kiryuu Keep, the Saionji were a somewhat gregarious and
rowdy bunch. However, Utena couldn't help but notice the
number of hostile stares towards the high table from the
highlanders below the salt. Sipping at his wine, the
rose-haired maiden was somehow certain that the glances were
as much fastened upon Lord Kyouichi as they were upon Lord
Touga and herself.

The Saionji weren't the only ones looking up at the array of
nobles seated there on the dais next to the massive hearth.
To Utena's mild surprise -- and apparently Tatsuya's dismay,
judging from the sour expression upon the visage of the
youthful man at arms -- she noted that one of her
handmaidens kept trying to surreptitiously stare at the
green-haired chieftain. (Ah, Wakaba . . . You would do far
better to dream of another . . .)

"Must you insist upon these inane queries?" Saionji growled
in response to the scarlet-maned noble's words. "I swear
you've come only to rub my nose in the fact that you are
perfect."

Touga frowned, getting somewhat irritated at his friend's
obstinate insistence that the visit was something calculated
to tear the other chieftain further down.

"Actually, my lord, I'm certain that Lord Touga isn't as
perfect as you seem to think. After all, by his own
statement there are no infallible people," Utena said,
finally entering into the conversation.

"What would you know of it?" Saionji snapped, his focus
shifting to the rose-haired beauty.

"She's right, Saionji," the scarlet-haired lord added. "You
grew up with me. You knew I wasn't perfect then, and I've
not miraculously become perfect in the past couple of
years."

"I grew up in your *shadow*," the verdant-maned chieftain
snarled. "Disliked by the majority of the Kiryuu for what I
was born, I'm barely tolerated by my own clan for what I've
become. They see me as an outsider, not as their leader's
son and heir, because I was raised by their enemy."

"Once they get to know you, they'll come to like you. Give
them time," Touga said in reply.

"Time may not heal everything," Saionji coldly remarked.

Movement caught Utena's eye, drawing her attention there.
The servants had come into the Great Hall and had begun
clearing away the remains of the first remove in order to
make room for the next. Traditionally, now would be the
time for any entertainment to begin, though the young maiden
couldn't see anyone about who were obviously musicians,
actors, jongleurs or any other sort of entertainer. As she
sat there contemplating the words of the pair of nobles at
her side and watched the household crew roam about the
massive chamber, she was suddenly struck with an idea.
Leaning over toward the handsome redhead to her left, she
softly murmured, "Lord Touga, I have something to ask you."

Her soft statement caught him unawares, especially
considering how relatively quiet she had been throughout the
meal so far. "Aye?" he responded, keeping his voice low.

"A champion of Love must be as honest as he is generous and
merciful. 'Tis one thing to state that you are flawed, and
an entirely different thing to prove so to others." Well
aware of having his undivided attention, Utena felt herself
blushing slightly under the force of his cobalt-blue gaze.
However, she persevered in her query. "The clansmen here
see you as only their overlord. Your friend sees you only
as a rival. Surely there must be some tale you can tell of
your own experiences that shows you as the flawed human you
must be -- a story that also shows to his clan just how good
of a man Lord Kyouichi truly is."

On Touga's other side, Saionji took a deep drink from his
goblet of wine, violet eyes narrowing in suspicion at the
low conversation between his foster brother and the
rose-haired girl. (What could they be plotting?) he
silently wondered.

"There's a number of memories that do just that, aye," Touga
admitted, drawling out the words in uncertainty, though his
curiosity was more than just mildly piqued.

"Then there's two things I request of you," Utena said.
"The first is your word that you will forever deal honestly
with your foster brother -- "

The scarlet-haired chieftain stiffened, his azure gaze
hardening in anger. "Are you accusing me of being
*dishonest* towards him?"

"No, but I see the tension between you, and your growing
desperation to win him back. Manipulation and flattery
should never be considered, even as a last resort. Love, in
any form, cannot flourish without honesty between those
involved," the elegantly-clad maiden hastily replied.

(How the devil -- ?) Apparently the girl he had once saved
had grown up to be quite the perceptive lady, seeing
something within him that he himself had only just realized
has been the turn of his thoughts. His astonished
expression changed to a frown. "And the other request?"

"Remind your friend just how human you are, and teach the
Saionji something about their prince. Tell everyone here,
between courses, such a tale as I asked you to recall,"
Utena replied.

"Spin a tale? Of my own ineptness? *Here*?" Touga asked, his
characteristically smooth voice taking on a note of dismay.

"Can you honestly say that you are never inept?"

"No, of course not -- "

"Then entertain us with such a story," the pink-maned
noblewoman simply said. She fell silent then, waiting to
see which impulse would win: his desire to pursue the tests
of her champion or his pride.

The redheaded noble scowled, the situation one not to his
liking at all. Reaching out and taking a sip of the
passably graded red wine, Touga remained in a faintly
brooding quiet. In order to please his pretty rose, he had
to sacrifice some of his pride. Was she truly worth it?

"So what exactly are you discussing over there?" queried a
gruff voice.

Aware of the green-haired chieftain's gaze upon Touga and
herself, Utena leaned forward and gave Saionji a bright
smile. "We're discussing the possible entertainment to be
had during supper."

(An odd thing to be talking about.) The curly-maned lord
raised his eyebrows in an expression of curiosity. "Well,
there are some musicians to play while we eat the main
course," he admitted.

"She has . . . something more specific in mind," Touga said.
Sighing heavily, his decision made, the scarlet-haired
chieftain flicked his cobalt-blue gaze back to his friend.
"Do you have anything scheduled now?"

"No . . ." Saionji answered, brows furrowing in puzzlement.

The mouth-watering scent of herb-roasted pork began to fill
the crowded room as the kitchen staff began to appear with
large wooden platters piled high with the cooked meat of the
main course. That the boar was one of the animals brought
to them by the Kiryuu men really didn't matter to anyone
there; the scent alone was heavenly, and most of those there
were far more interested in consuming the first really
decent meal they'd had in a rather long time. As per the
usual custom, the servants approached the high table first,
bowing to the nobles there, the food raised high in
presentation as the lead servant announced what the remove
was to be. While Touga awaited the presentation and the
serving of the high table to finish before continuing, he
took another sip of the wine in his glass as Saionji nodded
his approval of the dish and the platter was set before
them.

Utena drew in a deep breath, smiling at the tangy scent of
lemon grass, rosemary and mint with which the pork had been
cooked. That her possible champion's generosity had made
this possible made her smile brightly, her heart becoming
more set on hoping that this dashing lord would be the one
she sought.

Mindful of the lovely maiden's insistence on taking care of
herself, Touga only served himself up after Saionji had
taken what he wanted. Spearing a slab of the roasted pork
with the tip of his eating dagger, the Kiryuu prince asked,
"Once the meat has been passed out, would you mind if I
entertained everyone with a story, Saionji?"

"You? Tell a story?" the green-haired lord replied, giving
his foster brother an incredulous look. The expression
remained as Saionji raised his eyebrows, even more curious.
"Don't tell me. That slip of a maiden told you to do so?"

Touga merely nodded in agreement with his friend's guess.
"What say you?"

"Well, this ought to be interesting. Go right ahead and do
so, if you feel so compelled." In an odd way, the Saionji
chieftain was rather enjoying seeing the proud Touga
apparently so smitten that he'd do just about anything asked
by the rose-haired girl.

The scarlet-maned chieftain nodded again, turning his
attention to eating what he could of this course while the
servants walked briskly among the lower tables, serving the
rest of the pork to everyone else there. The conversations
had been progressively getting louder and more jovial as the
evening had worn on; the wine was beginning to be felt and
people were getting more comfortable, their attentions
focused more and more upon their food than the trio of
nobles seated at the high table.

The pork was as good as it smelled. Obviously the Saionji
were blessed with a cook who knew what he was doing, Utena
decided. Chewing on a mouthful of the delicious meat, she
watched thoughtfully as the servants set down the last of
the platters and made their way back to the kitchen. Once
there, she knew, they would hastily eat their own portions
of the meal while preparing the next course to come. When
the last serving girl had departed, the young noblewoman
turned her aquamarine gaze to the man sitting to her left.
Having heard the conversation between the two chieftains,
she knew that now would be the moment of truth.

Wood scraped against wood as the tall lord rose from his
seat. Taking a final drink from his silver goblet, Touga
composed his thoughts, eyes hooded beneath long lashes.
Slipping between the chairs, the scarlet-haired prince
walked behind the length of the table to the edge of the
dais and took the three steps down to the floor of the Great
Hall. By that simple action alone, he caught the attention
of the majority of the men there. Conversations died down;
one by one, the clansmembers of the Saionji turned their
gazes to their overlord -- their former enemy. Cobalt-blue
eyes stared back at them, noting their suspicion and slight
hostility. The feud had started early in his father's time
and had ended relatively late during his father's reign -- a
short one by highland standards. There was still a
reasonable chance of forging a true peace with them, of
making an alliance where they would stand together as
brothers and forget all about once being foes. Confidently
striding to a spot before the center of the high table,
Touga addressed those sitting below the salt as a group.
"Men and women of Clan Saionji, I have come before you with
a story to tell, a tale that I hope you find both amusing
and entertaining. This is not a story of long-ago heroes
fighting the forces of evil or Faerie, nor is it the tale of
the great battles between clans. No, this is a tale of two
youths, the best of friends, and one of their many
adventures together."

Turning slightly, Touga gestured towards the newly-elevated
chieftain. "I see in your eyes that you are unsure of the
man that leads you. You don't know him as well as you wish
because of circumstances you could not control. Let me
assure you, on my word as a prince of the royal blood, that
never once has your chieftain done anything to embarrass the
Saionji name. In all honesty, he has proudly born your name
as a mark of honor in his time among us. When he first came
to live at my father's house, my clansmen thought to taunt
him by calling him simply 'Saionji'. Knowing the worth of
that name, he embraced it; ever since he was a boy, he has
preferred to be called 'Saionji'. I tell you this now so
that you know I mean him no disrespect when I call him
such." Giving his friend a smile -- Touga was somewhat
amused at the expression of curiosity on his foster
brother's face -- the redheaded noble swept his gaze back
over his audience. "In fact, I have the highest respect for
your lord. Never have I had a truer friend; I consider him
the brother I never had. He is practical, careful, wise,
honorable, and loyal. Despite his sometimes abrupt manner,
he will always try to do his best. In fact, I probably owe
my life to him."

That garnered looks of interest among those sitting there
feasting upon the roast pork, listening to his words.
Behind his back, Utena raised her eyebrows; she hadn't
expected that particular confession. A glance to the
listening Saionji gave her little clues at all to the nature
of the story to come; the other noble's expression was
unreadable save for one of mild astonishment. As for
Touga's words so far, they seemed to be honest statements,
given to explain to the Saionji what sort of man their
former chieftain's son was and not given simply to flatter a
hurting friend.

"As all of you are aware, 'tis the sport of a chieftain's
son to learn how to one day be a great warrior," Touga said,
continuing on, beginning to slowly pace the rush-covered
floor in the space between dais and low tables. "A good
prince is one that leads his men both in words and actions,
and is willing to share the risks and dangers of personally
carrying out the defense of hearth and clan. As a pair of
chieftains' sons who had seen thirteen winters, Saionji and
I were ones who took our learning the ways of a true warrior
seriously. We watched the older men as they practiced, we
trained with my father's best trainers, and we practiced
with one another and the other squires nearly every day." A
number of heads nodded in response to his words while the
scarlet-maned lord took a breath; they would have expected
nothing less from good heirs. "And we eagerly listened to
any tales that better pointed out how a worthy chieftain
would act," Touga continued on, "for we both understood that
by listening to such things, we would learn more about what
made a good lord and how not to be a bad lord.

"To my father's keep one night came a traveling minstrel.
Hospitality was offered to him and accepted, and he graced
our meal that night with tales of warriors' bravery and
daring knights. I recall listening in rapture as he wove
his stories; his imagery was so vivid that I could almost
see the happenings he recited, and I wondered then if he
didn't have a touch of the Fey in his crafting. But of the
tales that he spun, there was one I remembered the most:
that of a younger son, his brothers already knighted,
traveling to the court of the great king. No one recognized
him there, and he was sent to be a servant in the kitchens.
The tale went on to describe how he undertook a dangerous
adventure that none of the other, more experienced knights
would assay to accomplish, and how he won out in the end,
being one of the best knights ever. But the part with which
I was thoroughly entranced was the description of the
youth's knighting ceremony, especially the finishing
flourish called 'the leap'."

Next to the rose-haired maiden, Saionji straightened up and
stared at his friend, violet eyes going wide in
astonishment. "By all that's holy, he's going to tell
everyone *this*?" he murmured in a tone of utter wonder.
Utena glanced at him, unsure if his reaction was due to the
tale being embarrassing to him -- and she hoped that wasn't
the case, considering the task she had set for her proposed
champion -- or if it was because he knew it would be
embarrassing for Touga for the redheaded prince to tell it.
The verdant-haired chieftain took a drink of his wine.
"This ought to be very good . . ."

Touga stopped for a moment, breaking from his slow strides
to sweep his hand out in a gesture that included all those
sitting there eating and watching him. "Now all of you know
that any ceremony that marks a youth as coming into his
right as a full-grown warrior is a serious thing. Even for
the lowlanders, that is the case. The minstrel's story
described what the lowlanders do, with their clanking metal
armor and great horses bred to carry all that weight. Each
new knight is given a chance to prove how heroic and capable
he is at the end of it all; he is told to don all that
armor, gird his sword, take up his shield, and then run at
his charger and leap up into the saddle so encumbered." The
mental image from that alone gained the young chieftain a
soft chuckle from those listening to him. "Needless to say,
there are many who prove themselves to be only ordinary men,
for they cannot vault gracefully from ground to horseback
wearing all their gear. Of course, the knight in the story,
being an extraordinary noble, was able to do so. And I,
having heard of our own tales up here of highlander heroes
doing much the same thing at the start of a battle, decided
that I wished to be one of those extraordinary men. So I
went to bed that night with my mind full of thoughts on how
to practice this so that when the great day came, I could
show up all those clunking and clanking lowlander knights as
the true highland prince that I am."

He began his slow pacing again, ruefully shaking his head as
part of his act of storytelling. Some caught where the tale
may be going and chuckled, others just ate and drank more
while they actively listened. "Ah, how I longed to be
through with my assigned tasks in the morning. The moment I
was free to do as I wished, I grabbed Saionji and lead him
to the stables, telling him about my plans. We had our
practice swords with us, as always, and it was our routine
to leave the clanhold and spar one another out in a clearing
in the woods. Though he was dubious about the additional
practice I desired to add to our activities that day, he
agreed to accompany me and give it a try. So off we rode to
our usual sparring place.

"Though Saionji rode his ever trusty rouncy, a sturdy pony
named Thunder, I had lost my own old pony Lightning to age
and illness. Tempest and I were still getting used to one
another, and my new mount at times had a will of his own.
Like myself, he was young for his kind, and though we grew
to have that relationship all warriors desire to have with
their well-trained horses, at that time, the headstrong pony
thought he was the one in charge. Once there in our spot,
Saionji and I dismounted and looked the horses over. And in
doing so, we discovered an oversight in the tales about 'the
leap' that we'd heard." The scarlet-maned nobleman paused,
cobalt-blue gaze looking over his audience, then gave them
all a grin. "Never once did the stories tell us from what
direction the knight approached his courser. Was it from
the side, or was it from the rear?" Another soft ripple of
laughter as those hearing his words imagined the two
youngsters trying to figure it out.

"Well," Touga continued on, taking a moment to glance over
at his friend sitting there up at the high table and smiling
a bit more as he spotted the amused grin on the other
chieftain's face, "Saionji argued for an over the rear
approach while I discussed the merits of from the side. As
we talked among ourselves and debated the merits and
problems with each method, we circled around our waiting
ponies and kept looking them over. Of course, Thunder and
Tempest didn't mind that at all, for they were content to
occupy themselves by grazing upon the grass in the clearing.
To be honest, Saionji seemed to have the way of it once we
talked over how an armed and armored man could vault upon
the back of a charger. However, I was too curious about the
method I had defended to just leave it be. Though agreeing
with my foster brother that he probably had the right of it,
I just had to give it one try from the side. This being my
plan, I hastily strode over a good pace away from where
Tempest grazed, then whirled and came running at him. Fleet
of foot, I covered the ground, the wind of my passing
rippling my hair. Once I was close enough, I planted my
feet and sprung upwards, determined to jump high enough to
lay my hands on Tempest's withers and help push myself with
the momentum of swinging my leg over his back. Up I flew,
and then I felt warm horseflesh beneath my hands. 'Huzzah!'
I thought to myself, sure of my triumph, sure that I was
better than any lowlander that insisted upon being dressed
up in a great tin pot -- "

The redheaded noble paused again, this time for dramatic
effect. A quick scan showed that he had most everyone's
attention, many of them leaning forward, awaiting his next
words. Another rueful shake of his head earned him laughter
as many recognized the clue he gave them by his gesture.
"Alas and alack, Tempest decided that he wouldn't cooperate
in his master's fun. Apparently not appreciating my rather
unconventional behavior, the rouncy shied away, taking a
couple of steps to the side. Instead of my leg clearing
over his back, my foot slammed into his ribs; my hands were
abruptly held flat on thin air and not on my mount's
shoulders. My victorious leap up onto my horse swiftly
became my unexpected dive into the green grass. I landed
flat on my belly, my breath knocked from me in a violent
exhale. And there I was, proud Kiryuu prince suddenly
prostrate before all, kissing the ground."

Laughter filled the hall at the mental image of the boy he
had once been so positioned. To the Saionji, hearing of
such an embarrassing moment to a former enemy was quite
amusing indeed. Utena couldn't help but join in the
laughter with her soft giggling, for the thought of such a
proud man lying low in such a manner was truly somehow
mirthful.

"To Saionji's credit, he didn't stand there laughing at my
misfortune -- "

"I feared you were hurt, my friend," the other chieftain
called out, a smile lingering on his face. His shout
garnered him another glance from the elegantly-dressed
maiden sitting a couple of seats to the right; Utena swiftly
discovered that Saionji was much more handsome when he
wasn't scowling at the world. "And I also feared that once
I started laughing, I wouldn't stop and I'd therefore have
been useless to you had you managed to wound yourself."

"True, true," Touga responded, chuckling slightly. "He
rushed over to my side and helped me up, and we took a
moment to assure ourselves that I remained in one piece. He
also took the time to point out to me yet again the flaws in
using that approach: the horse could see the movement of the
rider and shy away, it was to awkward to consistently get
one's leg over the horse's back, especially weighted down by
a number of pounds of metal and it was just plain dumb. I
didn't disagree with him at all, my dive to the ground
rather proving his point. As for Tempest, well -- the
ungrateful beast had gone back to his grazing as if nothing
had happened at all. While I brushed myself off, Saionji
decided to put his own theory to the test.

"He called out to his rouncy a command to stay, then
retreated a number of steps away. Taking measure of the
distance, Saionji stood there a moment before beginning his
furious dash toward the nether end of the still-grazing
Thunder. 'Twas a magnificent sight, his spectacular leap;
throwing wide his legs at the top of his arc, your lord then
thrust his hands down between them, connecting with the top
of the pony's rear. Giving himself a further boost in such
a manner, Saionji managed to accomplish what I had not.
There he sat in triumph proudly atop his mount."

"I told you that that was the best way in which to achieve
our goal," the green-haired chieftain called out, face still
bearing a grin.

"Aye, my friend, so you had. And I confess to some envy at
seeing your success after my rather embarrassing fall."
Turning his attention back to the clanmembers seated at the
rows of trestle tables, Touga continued his story, "So I
made up my mind to do as my friend had done. Walking a fair
pace behind my grazing rouncy, I yelled out a command for
Tempest to stay, then set myself to running at my mount.
Once again, I flew up into the air, my movements mimicking
those I had seen my foster brother perform. But I must not
have had as light a touch as your lord did, for my hands
came down quite firmly on Tempest's rear, and at the touch,
my horse decided -- I suppose -- that I had meant for him to
gallop off. For that is exactly what that ungrateful animal
did, raising his head and bolting out from under me. Yet
again I suddenly had nothing underneath to break my fall.
This time, at least, 'twas a rather padded part of myself
that took the brunt of the force; I landed flat on my arse,
my hands still thrust between my wide-spread and
outstretched legs."

Another roar of laughter filled the immense room, the evoked
image certainly an amusing one. As Utena again couldn't
help but giggle, the robust chuckle of her somewhat
reluctant host joined in along with just about everyone
else.

"Despite my aching legs and nether end, my pride was what
took the most grievous wound," the redheaded chieftain said,
still walking in a slow pace as he recounted his tale,
"especially since Saionji did laugh that time. However, we
both had little time to dwell upon my foolishness. One look
at Tempest and we discovered that the headstrong beast had
decided to bolt into the forest. There was no choice now
save to go after the creature. I ran, chasing my steed the
best I could, while Saionji on Thunder attempted to overtake
the galloping pony and grab him by the reins. As luck would
have it, the stubborn horse proved to be our equal: every
time one of us came close to grasping him and taking him
back under control, he would dart this way or that and elude
us.

"So there we were, chasing the miscreant through the woods.
I had thought that perhaps my ill luck was over, but that
was not meant to be. At one point in the chase, I thought I
had victory in my grasp -- " Touga paused again, giving his
audience enough time to try to imagine what he would
describe next. "Tempest dashed one way around the trunk of
a great tree; I came about on the other. Seeing the elusive
reins dangling there before me, just out of arm's reach, I
leapt at them, intending to grab hold with all my youthful
strength. With a whinny of surprise, my ungrateful beast
tossed his head and turned away, breaking into a full gallop
again. And I . . . Well, once again I ended up kissing the
ground, this time with a horrid splat. You see, Tempest had
chosen to turn and run just where a puddle from a recent
rain remained, and it was in the mud that I was laid low."

More laughter as Touga paced for a couple of seconds, a
rueful smile on his handsome face. He didn't pick up his
story again until the audience fell almost completely
silent. "I scrambled to my feet once more, now covered with
mud along my front from my chest down. Saionji had
continued to chase after my runaway horse, so I followed
along as best I could. When I caught up to your lord,
Thunder and he were standing along the bank of a
fast-running stream, waiting for me. Saionji had decided to
let me catch up once he saw my stubborn pony trot across a
wooden bridge over the stream.

"Now, this wasn't a fancy bridge at all. Rather, it was
made from the trunk of a large downed tree, the top part
hewn flat and smooth to allow for easy walking. As it was,
we would have to go single-file to cross -- or get wet by
trying to wade in what looked to be a dangerously swift
current. I started on ahead as Saionji dismounted; he told
me that he thought it would be safer to lead Thunder across
instead of continuing to ride. But as I took a couple of
steps onto the bridge, a figure came from out of the brush
and stepped onto the other end of the narrow structure.

"It was a man, one I'd not seen before, his face wizened by
the weather and his hair grizzled by age. He seemed to be a
trapper of some sort, and he had the carcasses of rabbits
and pheasants slung over his shoulder while a hand held a
stout quarterstaff. Well aware of the scolding I would
probably get once I returned home, I was in something of a
hurry to retrieve my pony. I stopped; the trapper stopped.
We stared at one another for a moment. Now, being well used
to having others get out of my way, I called out to the
other to retreat and let me cross, being sure to let him
know exactly who I was. The trapper replied that he was
only one man, it would take less time for him to cross than
it would for both my friend and I to cross, and that he was
more burdened then I. Were I a caring person, I should be
the one to retreat and wait before going on my way.

"Behind me, Saionji argued for taking the easier path --
just yielding the bridge and being done with it. However, I
was the son of a chieftain. Therefore, if anyone had to make
way, it would be the trapper, and I told him so in no
uncertain terms. The trapper, on the other hand, pointed out
that I didn't look the part, and that if I wished to claim
the right of way, I would have to earn it. Pointing to my
wooden practice sword slung from my hip, he challenged me to
a duel for the bridge.

"Well, I certainly thought I was better than any trapper
with a quarterstaff. Granted, he would have reach on me,
but I knew I was quick and agile both, trained by the best
of my father's men. Pulling my sword out -- and ignoring
Saionji's shouts to not let my pride get the better of me --
I came at the peasant in a rush. Oh, I ducked under his
initial blow just fine. It was his followthrough that
caught me unawares, I was so sure I'd get a blow in. I felt
a buffet upon my head that left my ears ringing. I recall
my sword maybe connecting once -- "

"A glancing blow to the man's ribs," Saionji pointed out,
taking a drink from his silver goblet. "Had that been a
real weapon, you would have only maddened the man with a
flesh wound."

"True. I only clearly recall taking another pair of buffets
before suddenly finding myself immersed in the rushing
coldness of the stream below," Touga responded, raising a
hand and running fingers though his mane of long scarlet
hair to get it out of his face. "I came up gasping for
breath and sputtering, then swam to shore against the fast
current, discovering that the water was far deeper than I
had first thought. As I drug myself up onto the banks on
the opposite side, I heard the trapper make his way across
his easily-won bridge. His last comment, before he
disappeared into the underbrush, was that I had looked far
more like a swineherd than the son of a chieftain, and that
a good cleaning was needed anyway. The moment the way was
clear, Saionji lead Thunder over the bridge and helped me
get myself back to solid ground."

Over the titters and guffaws, the elegant chieftain
continued with his narrative. "At the very least, I wasn't
exactly muddy anymore. However, I was now soaking wet and
still missing my pony. Knowing the dire consequences that
awaited me at home should I return without Tempest, I
started searching for any signs of the horse's spoor. To my
relief, Saionji managed to discover the runaway mount's
trail, and together we set off along it, hoping to retrieve
my mount relatively soon.

"It didn't take long after all. We climbed up along a rise,
finding ourselves in a grassy meadow strewn with
wildflowers. In the center of the meadow, on a hillock, sat
a manor house, and there were fields with peasants working
within them surrounding the structure. At the edge of the
meadow, Tempest was busily grazing upon the grass. And
patting him, softly talking to him, was a rather
rotund-appearing knight. Somewhat mindful of my last
encounter, I decided that perhaps demanding would be the
wrong approach. So Saionji and I walked up to the knight
and we introduced ourselves, and I nicely explained that I
had my rouncy bolt on me and that I would please like to
have him back. The rotund knight greeted us, took in our
bedraggled state and offered us the hospitality of his
manor. Since the sun was still somewhat high in the sky, I
accepted the offer. Saionji remained silent, looking around
the meadow."

Yet again with the slow pacing as he thought over the events
those years ago. "We were led across the fields, the
peasants looking our way as we did so, but all seemed
welcoming and friendly. At the manor, a couple of grooms
looked after our rouncies. We were led into the Great Hall
and invited to eat the noon meal with them. Considering all
that had happened -- and that we were boys only thirteen
years old, and possessed of the normal appetites of that age
-- both Saionji and I thought that something to eat would be
a good idea. We were seated in the places of honor at the
high table, next to the knight and his equally rotund lady
wife.

"It looked to be a feast like any other," Touga stated,
stopping and sweeping an arm in a gesture that encompassed
those sitting there finishing their own meals. "The
household there, being served by the kitchen staff, the high
table presented with each dish. In this case, the food
wasn't announced as it was brought forth; it was merely
shown and set upon the table. It looked rather good to me,
to be honest, but I noticed Saionji staring at the platter.
Shrugging it off, I stabbed the meat in orange sauce and put
some on my trencher. I cut up a piece and just as I started
to raise it to my mouth, Saionji suddenly hissed and grabbed
me by the wrist, forcing my hand back down. Needless to
say, I was startled, but his whispered explanation made me
more astonished.

"He told me to look at the dish sitting before us -- to
really *look* at it. I stared at the food, and amazingly, I
saw it shift in appearance. Blinking, I looked at him
again, and he stated that ever since we'd entered the
meadow, he'd had the sense of something being wrong. The
manor here was in a place where no manor was before, for we
hadn't strayed from Kiryuu lands. The moment I realized he
was right and I wondered just where we truly were, our
entire surroundings suddenly changed appearance, as if a
veil of illusion had been torn away. The Great Hall was
dark and filthy, looking to have years of neglect. The
people seated at the tables were now goblins, imps, sprites
and other mischievous fairies, while our hosts were of the
Dark Fey themselves--a vile-looking hag and an equally
noisome ogre, a pair of those races of faires truly
dangerous to mortal man. And the food that they were so
eagerly devouring and praising how wonderful it was . . .

"Let me tell you, there was no more atrocious menu I had
ever before beheld," the scarlet-haired highlander said.
"The first course, once I truly looked at it, turned out to
be cold whole mudpuppies in orange sauce. I confess to
feeling a bit queasy once I saw the little creature sliced
in half by my knife sitting there on my trencher."

No laughter now, but rather groans of dismay filled the
Great Hall of Pinehaven as the audience imagined being
served that for dinner. Utena's eyes grew wide at the
telling, her own stomach suddenly feeling not so well at the
description. Next to her, Saionji's mirthful expression had
given way to a serious one, but he had not as yet taken up
scowling at the world again.

"And it remained just as bad," Touga said. "The second
course was crunchy lizard tails *au gratin*, while the third
was blackened finger cakes with sardines and melted cheese.
The fourth course consisted of braised catfish lips with
peppercorns and parsley, the fifth was candied cat and dog
ears and the sixth -- "

"Roasted boar testicles on a stick," Saionji interrupted,
eliciting more groans from everyone there.

"But how did you know for sure what they were?" someone
shouted out from the audience.

"'Twas simple. We asked our hosts what they were," the
green-haired lord replied.

Touga nodded in agreement. "While our Fey hosts ate
everything before them with gusto, they noticed us not
eating and asked us how we liked the fare. Though we stayed
at the table throughout the entire meal out of respect for
the hospitality offered us, we both agreed after a
discussion that it would be better to deal honestly with the
Fey rather than try to deceive them. So we honestly stated,
after asking and being told what each course was, that such
a dish just wasn't to our liking and that we would wait for
the next. Our answers each time garnered us hearty
laughter, a rolling of the eyes and a statement that we
'outsiders' were always so squeamish. Once the meal was
over and the goblin servants were picking up the remains,
the Dark Fey knight complimented us on our honesty and our
manners. He then led us out to the stables, where imp
grooms handed us back our rouncies. Mounting up, we bid our
unusual hosts farewell and rode away from the manor, doing
our best to not look as nervous as we felt. The moment we
entered the woods from the meadow, we found ourselves
suddenly riding into our usual sparring place. Still too
shaken by our encounter to even think about dismounting and
trying to get any practice in, we continued on to home.

"And thus our adventure came to an end. Truly, had your
lord not been as perceptive and as determined to discover
what was wrong, I may yet be trapped within Faerie to this
day, enchanted by the food and drink -- for it looked to be
the best of dishes under the cloak of illusion -- of that
place. Thus, as I said at the start of this tale, I truly
feel indebted of my life to Saionji." Turning to face his
friend once more, the redheaded lord gave the other
chieftain a smile. "You have always been the best of
friends. May you have a long and happy reign." Bowing
slightly, Touga abandoned the place between high table and
low, returning to his seat next to his foster brother to the
cheers and the pounding of dagger pommels against the sturdy
wood of the table.

"A marvelous tale indeed," Utena whispered to the
scarlet-haired highlander once he had seated himself next to
her. "I'm most impressed."

"Thank you, my lady," Touga responded, giving her a warm
smile. The look of delight within her aquamarine eyes gave
him a slightly lightheaded -- almost giddy -- feeling.

"Well told," Saionji grudgingly said. "Though I'm surprised
that you chose that particular memory to confess."

"I'm every bit as human as anyone else," the Kiryuu prince
replied. "And that was the point. Thank you, Saionji, for
letting me do so."

"What are friends for?" was the other chieftain's sole
response before he took another long sip from his goblet of
wine.