Leslie Moore - Griffin's Shadow

Sateyuka’s eyebrows shot up. “Your fortunes have risen, indeed. The House of Sakehera is old and powerful. Lord Sen is well respected among the people, okui and hikui alike. He is the only lord on the King’s Council who has spoken up in support of equal rights for our folk.” Jelena shifted uneasily in her chair, eager to ask the question that had been uppermost in her mind since she first entered Sateyuka’s small, neat house, but yet afraid of the answer.

“I know Lord Sen and the people of Kerala are…more tolerant. This they told me themselves. Most of them accepted me, and treated me well.” With one notable exception , she thought. “But I wish to hear the truth spoken of…the truth which I can see with my own eyes as I walk the streets.”

Sateyuka sipped her tea in silence for several heartbeats, her expression thoughtful. When at last she spoke, her response seemed careful and measured.

“My husband Azareshu died several years ago,” she said. “He was a master weaver-one of the very best in the city-but because of the laws that forbid a person of mixed blood from becoming a member in any of the craft guilds, he was denied access to the best markets. Still, we managed. With hard work and perseverance, we built our business into one of the biggest weaving and dye shops in Sendai. That was before the fire.”

She paused, her mouth set in a thin, tight line, as if, at any moment, a wail of grief might break forth. Jelena waited in silence, recognizing the sight of old pain freshly recalled and felt anew.

After a moment, Sateyuka regained her composure and continued. “It was no accident-the fire-although we didn’t find out until after the flames had been put out. We lost our entire inventory and most of our equipment as well. My husband suffered lung damage from the smoke. He kept running back into the burning shop to save whatever he could, which was precious little. When it was all over, we were left with two looms, one dye vat almost too warped by heat to use, and three bales of raw wool. Not much with which to rebuild a shop as big as ours had been.

“The next day, while searching the ruins for anything that might be salvageable, my eldest son came across a medallion half-buried in the ashes. It was one of the tokens worn by apprentices of the Weavers and Dyers Guild. Somehow, it had survived the flames. Engraved on the back was the insignia of Kai Kaiori, our biggest competitor.”

“This Kai Kaiori sent apprentices to burn you out? But why?” Jelena immediately realized the naievite of the question.

Sateyuka laughed sharply. “Kai Kaiori is a high ranking member of the Guild. Our shop had been seriously cutting into her business, a situation that she couldn’t tolerate!”

“Did you confront her?”

“My husband and sons went to her shop with the medallion as evidence, but it was useless. She denied she had anything to do with the fire, and she challenged us to prove otherwise. Azareshu tried to fight. He went to the authorities, but they refused to investigate. He even petitioned the king, but we never received a reply.”

Sateyuka rubbed at her eyes, either to relieve an itch or wipe away tears- Jelena could not tell. “The stress of it all proved too much for my dear husband. His lungs became worse and soon, he was too weak to rise from our bed. He died, and my sons and I were left alone.” Sateyuka fell silent, but only for a moment. Their eyes met and Jelena saw a woman who had survived unbearable grief and hardship, yet remained unbowed, with not a particle of self-pity anywhere within her to otherwise poison her recovery.

“After Azareshu died, I determined to rebuild. Thankfully, we had some money put aside, so I was able to rent a small space and purchase enough supplies to deliver some smaller orders. Ai, things were very hard that first year, but we survived. Our best customers were patient. They refused to abandon us, and because of them, we were able to stay afloat.

“Now, the business is almost back to where it had been before the fire. My eldest and his wife are the master weavers now. My other daughter-in-law oversees the dyeing and my youngest son attends to all of the daily business matters. I see to the accounts.”

Sateyuka raised the teapot with an expectant lift of her chin. Jelena held out her cup for a refill. “I’ve told you all of this, Jelena, so that you can better understand what it’s like for us. A few hikui families have managed to prosper, despite how things are, but most just get by, and too many still live in poverty, though Alasiri itself is rich. Still, we live our lives as best we can. We get married, raise our families, run businesses, pay taxes… As long as we remain separate-apart from mainstream elven society-the burden of our situation is barely felt by many of us, and the okui folk can go on pretending that we are all content. It’s only when the interests of a hikui collides with that of an okui that the ugly truth rears its head.”

Jelena sighed and forced herself to relax back into her chair. Sateyuka hadn’t revealed anything Jelena didn’t already suspect. “What am I to do?” she mused. “How can I reconcile all of this with what my life has become?”

“You are very lucky, child,” Sateyuka pointed out. “You are protected by virtue of your marriage into the House of Sakehera. Legally, you now have the same rights as an okui.”

“Maybe so, but it does not change the fact that I am still hikui. How can I live with rights that are denied others of our kind?”

“I haven’t the answer to that question, Jelena. Only you know what is truly in your heart. If your husband loves you and you love him…and I can see that you do by the look in your eyes…then perhaps that is all that should count for you right now. These are weighty matters, these questions of the rights of hikui people. Many women and men, both stronger and wiser than you and I, have spent their entire lives fighting for equality under elven law for our people. It has yet to happen.” She pursed her lips thoughtfully, then added, “Perhaps it never will.”

Jelena set her cup down with care and rose to look through the ornate window screen out into the street. The sunlight glowed orange and mellow; soon, dusk would fall. She hadn’t realized how much time had gone by. Talking with Sateyuka, sharing tea and pies with her-it had felt so comfortable and safe, like how Jelena imagined visiting a favorite aunt would be.

She turned to face her host. “I must go,” she murmured, then in a slightly stronger voice, added, “This has meant a lot to me. Thank you.”

Sateyuka stood and held out her hands; Jelena clasped them warmly. “You must come back to see me again,” the older hikui woman said, her soft brown eyes twinkling. “I have many friends here in Jokimichi, all of whom will welcome you and lend support, if you should feel the need.” Jelena understood the implied message behind the other woman’s words. “I wish you luck and pray that all will turn out for the best.”

“Thank you,” Jelena replied.

Sateyuka saw her to the door, and after giving Jelena directions back to the avenue that led up to the castle, stood at her threshold and watched as Jelena made her way up the street. At the first crossing, Jelena turned and waved before rounding the corner. Sateyuka lifted her hand in farewell.

As Jelena headed back toward the castle, she realized a seed had been planted within her this day. What form it would take as it grew, she could only guess at, but one thing she felt certain of: her relationship with Ashinji and his family-with all elves for that matter-would never be quite the same.

“It’s wrong, Ashi! Wrong and unfair!” Jelena exclaimed as she paced around the sitting room, hands clenched into fists at her side.