Removing his remaining clothes, Tenaka moved out into the gym area beyond. There he twirled and leapt, landing lightly – first his right hand slicing the air, then his left. He rolled to the floor, then arched his back and sprang to his feet.
From the doorway Renya watched him, drawing back into the shadows of the corridor. She was fascinated. He moved like a dancer, yet there was something barbaric in the scene: some primordial element that was both lethal and yet beautiful. His feet and hands were weapons, flashing and killing invisible opponents, yet his face was serene and devoid of all passion.
She shivered, longing to withdraw to the sanctuary of his room but unable to move. His skin was the colour of gold under sunlight, soft and warm, but the muscles beneath strained and swelled like silver steel. She closed her eyes and stumbled back, wishing she had never seen him.
Tenaka washed the sweat from his body and then dressed swiftly, hunger eating at him. Back in his room he sensed the change in the atmosphere. Renya avoided meeting his eyes as she sat by the old man, stroking his white hair.
‘The storm is breaking,’ said Tenaka.
‘Yes.’
‘What is the matter?’
‘Nothing . . . except that Aulin is not breathing well. Will he be all right, do you think?’
Tenaka joined her at the bedside. Taking the old man’s frail wrist between his fingers he felt for the pulse. It was weak and irregular.
‘How long since he has eaten?’ he asked.
‘Two days.’
Tenaka delved in his pack, producing a sack of dried meat and a smaller pack of oats. ‘I wish I had sugar,’ he said, ‘but this will have to do. Go and fetch some water and a cooking pot.’
Without a word Renya left the room. Tenaka smiled. So that was it – she had seen him exercising and for some reason it had unsettled her. He shook his head.
She returned with an iron pot brimming with water
‘Throw half of it away,’ he told her. She splashed it in the hallway and he took the pot to the fire, slicing the meat with his dagger. Then he carefully placed the pot on the flames.
‘Why did you not speak this morning?’ he asked, his back towards her.
‘I don’t know what you mean.’
‘When you saw me exercising?’
‘I did not see you.’
‘Then how did you know where to fetch the pot and get the water? You did not go past me in the night.’
‘Who are you to question me?’ she snapped.
He turned to her. ‘I am a stranger. You do not need to lie to me, or pretend. Only with friends do you need masks.’
She sat down by the fire, stretching her long legs to the flames.
‘How sad,’ she said, softly. ‘Surely it is only with friends that one can be at peace?’
‘It is easier with strangers, for they touch your life but for an instant. You will not disappoint them, for you owe them nothing, neither do they expect anything. Friends you can hurt, for they expect everything.’
‘Strange friends you have had,’ she said.
Tenaka stirred the broth with his dagger blade. He was uncomfortable suddenly, feeling that he had somehow lost control of the conversation.
‘Where are you from?’ he asked.
‘I thought you did not care.’
‘Why did you not speak?’ Her eyes narrowed and she turned her head.
‘I did not want to break your concentration.’
It was a lie and they both knew it, but the tension eased and the silence gathered, drawing them together. Outside the storm grew old and died, whimpering where once it had roared.
As the stew thickened Tenaka added oats to further swell the mixture, and finally salt from his small store.
‘It smells good,’ said Renya, leaning over the fire. ‘What meat is it?’
‘Mule, mostly,’ he told her.
He went to fetch some old wooden platters from the kitchen and when he returned Renya had wakened the old man and was helping him to sit up.
‘How are you feeling?’ Tenaka enquired.
‘You are a warrior?’ asked Aulin, his eyes fearful.