The Wings of Dreams

vocations and their homes. With nobody to turn to or depend upon, they have to indenture themselves in order to eat. Their employers take care of the basic necessities but they can’t do a thing without a by-your-leave. My professors taught me that it’s illegal to buy and sell people, to own slaves. Live-in servants may not be called slaves but that’s what they are.”
    Gankyuu’s attention didn’t waver.
    “People see these refugees and itinerants—who can’t even put food on the table—and hire them because they feel sorry for them. The servants in turn repay that kindness by working for them the remainder of their days. That’s the polite fiction we all tell ourselves. Both parties know when they’re hired they’ll have a status little different than that of a slave.”
    “I see.”
    “In exchange for indenturing themselves, live-in servants give up their passports. Did you know that?”
    Gankyuu nodded. A passport was issued by the government office in the prefecture where a person legally resided and was the sole means of vouching for his identity. If he did not occupy his house and land for a period of seven years, he was declared legally dead and the land was confiscated. But by producing a passport, he could return home and file a claim for compensation. At the bare minimum, he could appeal to the prefectural government for support.
    The majority of refugees gave up their passports for reasons that came down to trading uncertainty for security or peace of mind, as in the case of child sold to a koushu guild master. As a result, refugees were also known as “undocumented.”
    “Giving up a passport is essentially a pledge not to run away. When a parent becomes a live-in servant, so do his children. They go to work when they are still young. They won’t attend school, and if they have a passport, it will be confiscated. When they become adults, they won’t be registered on the census and won’t receive a homestead, making it difficult to pursue an independent life. They can’t get married and can’t have children. Their only hope for a reward comes from working for their master. And because the master doesn’t want them saving money and running away, he won’t pay them in cash, only in kind, and the bare necessities at that. When they grow old, because they are not registered on the census, they cannot retire to a rike. They’ll work until the day they die and get buried in a potter’s field.”
    Gankyuu silently nodded.
    “Keika won’t be free until my father dies. Even when he dies, if my mother is still alive, she will inherit the live-in servants along with the rest of the property. Keika will remain a live-in servant until my mother dies and no one is left to inherit and the household is forfeited to the kingdom.”
    “Except such forfeitures hardly ever happen.”
    “That’s right. Under the guise of compensation, my father will distribute the assets of the household and company to my eldest brother. When my father dies, in the eyes of the law, he will be a penniless old man living off the charity of his children. There will be no estate—or servants—left to forfeit, it having been divvied up among the children.”
    Gankyuu nodded again.
    “I can’t claim any koushu as my close acquaintances. But being raised by servants meant being raised by refugees. I always thought it strange that I should be given such beautiful silk while Keika was not. Why couldn’t Keika and I eat the same meal at the same table? And how was it that our meals, prepared in the same kitchen, were so very different? Why couldn’t Keika live in the main wing of the house with me? Even though I’ve never been a refugee or itinerant, nobody can tell me I don’t understand their lot in life.”
    “Of course.”
    “Though I don’t get the koushu to that extent, I understand that instead of trading their freedom for the safe and secure jail cell of a family estate, the koushu choose to live free in the Yellow Sea. Servants and koushu start out refugees. On the one hand, there are those who grovel to the master of the house, trying to shed the stigma of a refugee and rise in respectable society. On the other, there are those who shed respectability and take on the name of koushu no tami. As for me, I’d take that red passport over the patronage of any lord of the manor.”
    “But you are going to Mt. Hou in order to become empress.”
    “That I am. That’s why I’m here. But if I can’t be