The Golden Naginata by Jessica Amanda Salmonson Page A

think we must each search our hearts from time to time. See over there among the reeds? There is a brown duck sleeping alone. Is it not sad?”
    Tomoe saw no duck. Ducks symbolized family love and faithfulness. Brown ducks were female. Tomoe said, “Do you suggest I’m fond of the ronin?”
    â€œDid I say so? No, I realize he is uncouth by your standards. But when you returned to the gardens at dusk, you looked more like someone who had lost her family than like someone desiring a fight.”
    â€œYou are perceptive, bonze.” Tomoe looked unhappy. “My father has declared me dead because I refused a marriage meeting. It was bad timing for a ronin’s lust.”
    â€œYou think it is lust?” asked the novice yamahoshi. “Don’t you believe in love?”
    â€œI believe in duty and circumstance,” said Tomoe. “Wives and husbands love each other because it is their duty. The circumstance is arranged by parents and go-betweens, not by love.”
    â€œYou are cynical,” said the bonze. “The yamahoshi do not prescribe celibacy for their priests—only for novices.” Shindo laughed at himself. “So there is a saying among my sect: ‘Devils fall when yamahoshi raise their swords. Yamahoshi fall when women raise their eyes.’”
    â€œI’m not certain I like the saying,” said Tomoe.
    â€œThe ronin might like it better!” The monk laughed again. “He is obviously very strong. Perhaps he has never been defeated before.”
    â€œHe did not fall because of my eyes,” said Tomoe, her voice somewhat strained. “He fell to the skill of my weapon.”
    â€œOnly that? I think he loves you besides!”
    â€œIt annoys me that you say so. Monks forever give advice! How can you know what a ronin feels?”
    â€œTo fight so well, he is more than a mere ronin. He takes the name ‘Number One Mountain,’ which is not a name at all, although it is very boastful to call himself that. I listened to the two of you fighting. By the sound of his footwork and strikes, I recognized the style. I’m certain he studied with Mountain Priests, perhaps at my own temple before I became a novice.”
    â€œSo? It proves he’s from a mountain province and presently travels incognito. Yet he is too dirty to be anything but a well-trained man of bad fortune and worse manners.”
    â€œEven men of bad fortune have hearts, Tomoe.”
    â€œDo you suggest I have no heart?” asked Tomoe, her face turning red. She calmed herself immediately, breathing deeply, looking away from Shindo’s moon-face to the moon reflected in the pond. “My mind dwells always on the Way of the Warrior. I am forever prepared for death, not love.”
    â€œI won’t mention it again,” said the bonze, seeing her upset.
    â€œI would be grateful.”
    The moon’s path had taken it away from their vision. It peeped through the trees around Tomoe and Shindo, but no longer reflected on the water. The nightbirds and insects were silent, and that was strange.
    â€œLet’s move over there,” said Shindo, “so I can see the moon a while longer.” Tomoe followed the monk to a wooden deck built over a corner of the pond. The moon’s reflection was still not visible, but the moon itself shined brightly on their faces. Tomoe changed the topic of conversation:
    â€œI wonder if you know a man named Goro Maki. He shaved his head a long time ago to become a yamahoshi.”
    Shindo tried to remember. “If his head were still shaven, I would know him by that name. But once a new man in the monastery has proven his strength, he begins to grow a beard and wild mane of hair. He changes his name as well. The harrier the yamahoshi, the longer he has been a fighting monk; his beard symbolizes his strength. The change of name symbolizes the beginning of a new life, without desire for fame. If I have met your