The great platinum head swiveled back to regard the boy. “It begins now. Dismount young prince, there is someone here to greet you. They are here to take care of you.”
“Ah, okay?” the boy agreed, doubtfully, as figures emerged from the shadows. They wore armor and bore weapons —not wooden practice weapons, but real steel, sharp–edged blades —, though of course that was not what bothered him about them. That was the most reassuring thing, actually. It was something else. It was not that their skin was a deep shade of indigo and their hair mostly silver or blonde; not that their ears were rather long and leaf shaped; nor even that that their eyes had blood red irises. No, indeed, it was something far more disturbing.
They were all women.
How are girls supposed to teach me anything? Ranma worried but, perhaps fortunately, was too busy sliding down the dragon’s leg to say so. By the time he had shimmied all the way, his mouth was under control. Somewhat. He hopped onto the barren ground and greeted them politely enough. “Hi there! I’m Ranma Saotome of the Anything Goes School Of Martial Arts.”
“So, you are the one? Indeed?” the lead woman asked archly; raising a silvery eyebrow to gaze at him coolly. She wore …clothes… of black leather. Ranma did not think the restricting outfit could really be called armor. Her platinum blonde hair was done up in buns, held in place by silver hairpins decorated with rhinestones, and her demeanor was most authoritative.
Tapping a silver capped rod against her cheek, the woman regarded him back coldly, then curtsied slightly. “I am Matron Sigorne of … well, no matter. You may address me as Mistress for I shall be your Governess, young male. You are … not what I was expecting though. You are hu… younger. Mmmm… Just a child.”
“Hey! I’m not a kid,” an insulted Ranma asserted petulantly. “I’m ten!”
“All of that? Why, so you are.”
“Is this a problem?” Bahamut rumbled.
“Well… not really, Divine One,” the woman answered carefully. “I shall have to revise the curriculum a little, of course, but this … mmmm… this is but a challenge we shall rise to. It is no matter. I shall manage to educate him properly. Our bargain will be fulfilled.”
‘Ugh,’ Ranma grimaced. It was just as bad as he had feared. They wanted to edmasculate him!
“Then I shall leave him in your expert hands, Arachnomancer,” Bahamut said with a draconic bow, then vanished back into the closing portal. “Do well and My bargain shall be fulfilled.”
“Mmmm… Goddesses can be so abrupt,” Sigorne observed. “Ah, well. Come along, young prince. Let’s get you inside. It is not… It is cold out, and we have a feast prepared in your honour.”
The dragon’s sudden leaving was rather alarming, but Ranma’s interest perked up. Though he was not fooled. The way the women warriors fell in around them, rapiers and crossbows held ready, and warily scanning the ruins as they progressed along the remains of a cobble stone road, told him that they were not just worried about the cold. He half hoped whatever it was they were worried about showed up, so that he could see how well these —uh… ninja? samurai?— women fought. But on the other hand, well … you just do not keep food waiting.
“We have managed to repair a mansion, somewhat, young male. As you see, it is not much, but shall do until we can clear out the castle ruins.”
“Un, it looks fine to me,” Ranma said, looking at the western style building and was impressed. It was ramshackle indeed, but compared to the rest of the ruins, that it stood upright would have been impressive enough. They had definitely managed to make it habitable with little touches of home like spiderlace curtains, a lick of black paint, and a balista or two mounted on the battlements.
“His highness is most gracious to say so,” Sigorne remarked ironically. “But quickly now. We must get you inside before…”
“Uhm, before that?” Ranma asked, pointing back to the figures emerging from the ruins across the street.
“Well, yes,” Sigorne admitted as she urged him behind the screen of archers.
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(Posted Thu, 10 Dec 2009 02:39)
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らんま1/2 © Rumiko Takahashi
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