Woman With No Name

By Charles T. Whipple

~ Short Japanese Fantasy Adventure story – part of a continuing saga of stand-alone tales by award-winning author, Charles T. Whipple ~

After daughter of Umihiko, even Nami the Fuku Sencho of the Seicho Maru, did return to Kisarazu, two more were chosen for a special quest, even a search for the Hermit of Fujiyoshida, who held the key to the unraveling of mysteries. One was Shuri, one of the sea from the kingdom of Ryukyu, and another Nanashi, the woman with no name, who was called for a special talent which she knew not. Shuri was of the sea, Nanashi of the shore. Will their quest uncover the vital talisman, which is absolutely necessary for Masacado the Anointed to rise again?

As with the account of Nami of the Waves, I will now lay aside my brush so those who read of the Shuri and Nanashi, the woman with no name, stalwart subjects of Amaterasu, though Nanashi was born in a land far away, might search the accounts and come to believe in the might and sacred power of Amaterasu Omikoto, creator of all and ruler of Heaven and Earth. So I have written and so shall it be done.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Charles T. Whipple
• Release date: Jul 28, 2018
• ISBN: 9780463474617

Charles T. Whipple

"The only thing I do well is write." Charles T. Whipple is an international award-winning copywriter, journalist, author and novelist. His awards include Editor & Publisher Magazine DM Award, World Annual Report Competition Award, 2010 Oaxaca International Literature Award, and 2011 Global eBook Award.Whipple was born in Show Low, Arizona. He spent two and a half years in Japan as a volunteer youth missionary, and majored in Japanese History as a graduate student and grantee at the East West Center, University of Hawaii. He is fluent in spoken and written Japanese, and has long been interested in the fantastic aspect of traditional Japanese tales. Whipple lives in the city of Chiba, the capital of Chiba Prefecture, which encompasses the ancient Kanto Kingdoms of Awa, Kazusa, and Shimosa. Today, Chiba hosts the Magic Kingdom of Disneyland and is gateway to Japan via the international airport in Narita.He has one wife, four daughters, two sons, and 19 grandchildren. Whipple writes western novels under the pen name of Chuck Tyrell and fantasy based on ancient Japanese history and mythology as Charles T. Whipple. Visit Charlie at his Blog: http://chucktyrell-outlawjournal.blogspot.com/.

Book preview

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WOMAN WITH NO NAME

The Masacado Scrolls

Story 6

CHARLES T. WHIPPLE

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Smashwords Edition

WOMAN WITH NO NAME

Copyright © 2016 by Charles T. Whipple

Illustration Copyright © 2016 by Gustav Oslo

Cover Art Design Copyright © 2016 by Laura Shinn Designs

http://laurashinn.yolasite.com

[Republished/2018]

Smashwords Licensing Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this ebook with other people, please purchase an additional copy for each person. Thank you for respecting the hard work of the author.

Woman With No Name is a work of fiction. Though actual locations may be mentioned, they are used in a fictitious manner and the events and occurrences were invented in the mind and imagination of the author except for the inclusion of actual historical facts. Similarities of characters or names used within to any person – past, present, or future – are coincidental except where actual historical characters are purposely interwoven.

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The Words of Hikarinomiko

Behold, I am Hikarinomiko, daughter of Amenomiko who was the daughter of Soranomiko who was the daughter of Asanomiko who anointed the Chosen One of Amaterasu Omikoto, even Taira no Masacado, who drove the wicked Toh from the eight kingdoms of Kanto, even unto the forfeiting of his own life.

Now behold, I, Hikarinomiko, am called of Amaterasu to record the deeds of those anointed during the dark days of Toh rule. To write somewhat concerning the curse the wicked Toh placed upon the land; the loss of the sacred talismans of Amaterasu through which the Chosen One is proclaimed unto the people; the search to discover the talismans in their place of hiding; and the fearful battle against the Toh, their dark Yami bonzes, the creatures and demons the priests commanded. Yea, even every dark being of the underworld of Yami.

Therefore, I have searched among the scrolls left me by she who preceded me, even the sacred Washinomiko, who has gone before and must surely rest in the bright fields of Amaterasu. Yea, I have searched, and Amaterasu has guided my hand. Yea, even as mine hand and mine mind were guided to record the beginning, even the birth and the anointing of he who will stand as King under Amaterasu, even he who will do battle with the vicious Toh and shall prevail over them.

As with the account of the Seeker and the Shielder, I will now lay aside my brush so those who read of the trials on the Road to Kio, might search the accounts and come to believe in the might and sacred power of Amaterasu Omikoto, creator of all and ruler of Heaven and Earth.

Now behold, in separate scrolls, I have inscribed and will inscribe accounts of the labors and sufferings of the anointed of Amaterasu as they search for the sacred talismans. Until such time, I lay aside my brush again and bid each and all sayo nara, for the moment, sayo nara.

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Chapter One

She called herself Nanashi, which means nameless in the ancient tongue. She called herself slave, though no Tengu ever forced her to do a thing. She called herself useless, because she was unable to protect herself from the deadly tentacles of the giant squid sent from the depths by Yami, Lord of the Dark. Now she huddled in the forepeak of the war junk Seicho Maru. Worthless. Without thought, her hand went to the ringed scar tissue on her cheek. Worthless. She rubbed the scar's ridges. Useless. Nameless. Worthless.

Nanashi's fingers sought the knife hidden in the folds of her padded jacket, but she made no move to draw forth its deadly blade. The Shielder forbad taking her own life. She must wait for relief. Wait and watch. Wait in the tar-thick odor of the forepeak. Wait and grind her teeth to stumps in frustration.

A scritching came from overhead, barely audible above the sound of the cutwater slicing through the waves. Scritch, scritch, scritch. Back and forth across the deck above. Scritch, scritch… and then the sound was gone.

Nanashi settled herself into the nest of rope she'd made in the forepeak. The Seicho Maru sailed across the Bay of Whales, and no one would bother about the anchor ropes until time to use them. She licked her lips. No salty taste of tears there now. She closed her eyes, but sleep came not.

The scritching sounded again, not from above, but from abaft the forepeak, something unsteady, something uncomfortable, something unnatural to the sound. Nanashi reached once more for her knife.

Scritch. Scritch. Scritch-scritch.

Nanashi drew the knife, her eyes wide open, trying to penetrate the darkness of the forepeak.

Tap. Tap. Tap-tap.

Nanashi froze, her right arm held out straight as a lance with the knife as its tip. She made no sound. She struggled to control her racing heartbeat as she had seen the Shielder do so many times. Her thoughts raced, bouncing around inside her mind. Who? What? Why me?

Tap. Tap. Ta… clunk. Creak.

A sliver of dim light appeared at the hatchway from the forward cabin into the forepeak. Nanashi's terror fled. She could see. She could use the knife. She took a deep breath, steadying her lance-like arm with its knife-blade tip.

A black obsidian-like thing that looked as sharp as fletched flint slipped into the crack of light and levered the hatch open. Nanashi breathed out. Her taut nerves relaxed a mite. The beak of black was followed by a head covered with pure white feathers. The Seeker's familiar, Caras. The white raven fastened a sharp black eye on Nanashi. In her mind, she heard him speak.

Mistress. Others Await. Mistress. Come.

Caras disappeared.

Come, said the thought-voice in Nanashi's head.

The Seicho Maru cut smoothly through the waves. The rushing sound of water filled Nanashi's ears. Come, the thought-voice said, now weaker.

Nanashi returned the knife to its secret place in the folds of her clothing and picked up her staff. Cautiously, she pushed the hatch open. The off-watch sailors slept in swinging hammocks. Further aft, a squad of marine-soldiers sharpened halberds in the weapons bay. She stepped into the forward cabin, slipped between the hammocks, and strode by the soldiers, shoulders squared and face full of confidence that she