The Flood Dragon's Sacrifice

by Sarah Ash

  Saburo hesitated, then set off again down the steep path. Masao drew his knife, bracing himself to fight off the Crane pursuers. The torchlight wavered before his eyes; he squeezed his heavy lids shut, trying to restore his enhanced Kite vision, then opened them again.

  If only I hadn’t used so much Shadow energy earlier on…

  A pine branch further down the path twitched. Two Crane shinobi had appeared from the cover of the trees and were silently advancing on the armorer.

  Of course – the torches were just a decoy. A simple tactic, but it had worked far too well. Masao was so angry with himself for failing to anticipate the Cranes’ attack that he yelled, “Saburo! Look out!”

  Saburo turned as the Cranes made their move. To Masao’s surprise, the armorer nimbly dodged his pursuers. In the same instant Masao felt a familiar surge of Shadow energy pulsing through the warm summer night. The forest path suddenly filled with Red Kites, swooping down from the trees to confront the Cranes.

  “We’ll handle this, Masao.”

  Masao caught a glimpse of the leader’s face, dark-mottled with the feathery stains of the Kite Shadow; a distinctive jagged scar down the left side told him it was Chikaaki, Yoriaki’s second-in-command.

  “Get going. Lord Toshiro is waiting.”

  Masao grabbed Saburo’s arm and, without glancing back, dragged him away from the stand-off and both went hurtling down the stony path toward the distant glitter of moonlight on the bay below.

  ***

  Camp fires cast a harsh red glow on the faces of Lord Toshiro and his senior retainers. To Masao, they seemed to glare down at him like a gathering of wild-eyed demons from the old legends. He blinked the image away, trying to retain some hold on reality while his energy-drained body craved nothing but sleep.

  “So you discovered the entrance to the siege tunnel, Masao?”

  “Yes, my lord. It’s hidden at the heart of a bamboo thicket. I only had time to leave a single marker before I had to retreat. And the Cranes are out in force in the woods; if they find it, they’ll erase it.”

  “Even so, you did well; you achieved what all our other shinobi have so far failed to accomplish. No matter what the Cranes try to do now, we’ve gained a significant advantage.”

  Masao basked in the warmth of his lord’s praise. Now, surely, he’ll put me back with the elite shinobi.

  “And Saburo has found a source of saltpeter high up the mountain, my lord.”

  “Excellent.” Lord Toshiro nodded in acknowledgment. “So now the two of you will set to work as fast as you can so that we can mount our final assault on the castle.”

  “Th - the two of us?” Masao hoped he had not heard aright. “But you’ll need me to lead the way to the siege tunnel, won’t you, my lord?”

  Lord Toshiro’s gaze hardened and Masao shivered in the sudden chill. “If I’m not mistaken, you’ve overused your Shadow skills again, Masao.” He turned to Master Yoriaki beside him. “Wouldn’t you agree?”

  Yoriaki rose and came over to Masao. “Show me.”

  Masao swallowed back the denial and raised his arms to the firelight; the flames showed the last traces of the distinctive Kite Shadow markings, grey-and-purple-mottled, like bruising.

  “These should have disappeared by now.” Yoriaki clicked his tongue in disapproval. “You’d better go to find Yūgiri.”

  ***

  Masao was approaching the hospital tent when he heard raised voices.

  “What do you mean, you need to rest? There’s no time for that now; there are injured men to be healed.”

  “Just a short while, Father, that’s all…” The gentle voice was familiar and at the sound of it Masao felt his pulse begin to quicken: Yūgiri.

  “I’m ashamed of you, my own son, dishonoring our family’s reputation. If you can’t muster enough stamina to heal a few light casualties, how will you ever cope when it comes to a full-scale battle?”

  A silver-haired man came out from behind the tent, his pale eyes filled with such fury that Masao hastily stepped back to let him pass. Was that Yūgiri’s father, Yonosuke? He had the impression that he had stumbled on a private family conversation not intended for the ears of outsiders. And yet that only increased his determination to see Yūgiri; the older man’s harsh words must have left him feeling demoralized.

  “Yūgiri?” he called out. Turning around the far corner of the tent, saw the young shaman slowly walking away in the opposite direction. At the sound of his voice, Yūgiri stopped and looked back, gazing at him through mist-clouded eyes.

  “Masao. You’re safe. I…” Yūgiri’s voice faded; Masao saw him falter. Realizing he was about to faint, he ran toward him, just in time to catch him as his legs buckled.

  Lowering him gently to the ground, he went down on one knee so that he could better support the shaman’s body against his.

  “What’s wrong?” Masao felt his own heart thudding with alarm. “Are you hurt?” Yūgiri’s head had slumped against Masao’s chest; his eyes were closed, but at the sound of Masao’s voice the pale eyelashes flickered open a little.

  “Not…hurt.” Yūgiri’s words were so indistinct that Masao had to lean closer to make out what he was saying. “Just…tired.”

  “How long since you took a break? Yūgiri!” But Yūgiri’s eyes had closed again. You’ll burn yourself out if you don’t restore your own healing energies. Your father must realize that.

  The softest of sighs issued from Yūgiri’s lips. Was he asleep? Or was he lapsing deeper into unconsciousness? Masao braced himself and scooped Yūgiri up in his arms. Then he set out slowly with his burden across the sands toward the healers’ tent, which had been set up in the shade of the trees on the edge of the beach behind the larger hospital tent erected for the wounded. The flames of the cooking fires still burned as the Akatobi siege force gathered for their evening rations, and the smell of cooking drifted across the shore on the rising smoke.

  Masao backed into the tent and laid Yūgiri down on a mattress as gently as he could, slipping the pillow beneath his head. He was about to go to fetch some water when Yūgiri suddenly reached out and clutched his sleeve.

  “Masao…they still need me…”

  “Are you crazy?” Masao was outraged at the thought. “You’re exhausted. You’ve got to rest. I’ll go fetch you something to drink. But if you try to leave this tent, I’ll find you and carry you right back. You’ll stay here if I have to tie you to that mattress. Understand?”

  Yūgiri let go of him, his hand dropping back by his side. “Understood…” There was a hint of amusement in his voice.

  Should I get Manabu to check him over? Masao left the tent, his mind churning with questions. How did a shaman restore his healing powers? Perhaps an uninterrupted night’s sleep would be enough… or had Yūgiri given too much of his own life essence to be able to recover so swiftly? And why, every time he thought of Yūgiri, did his own heart start to pound so painfully?

  I just can’t stand seeing him being used like this.

  He refilled his water gourd in the stream and stopped off at one of the cooking fires to check if there was any soup left. The soldier on catering duty looked up from the pot, his face red with the heat. “It’s fish stew with seaweed; how about a bowl of the broth?”

  Masao nodded. He had no idea whether Yūgiri would be able to muster the strength to drink fish broth but he reckoned that even a mouthful would do him good. Even if I have to feed it to him myself.

  Carefully carrying the bowl, he was just passing the hospital tent when Manabu appeared at the entrance.

  “How’s Yūgiri?”

  “Resting. He collapsed. Why is his father making him work so hard?”

  “Because Yonosuke has all but burned out. The old man’s too proud to admit it, even to his own son. The family’s reputation rests on Yūgiri’s shoulders.”

  By the time Masao reached the healers’ tent, Yūgiri was sound asleep. Masao sat down beside him, cross-legged, and called his name, but
the shaman didn’t even stir. It seemed a shame to let good fish broth go to waste, so Masao drank it himself. Lulled by the soft, regular sound of the shaman’s breathing, he felt a deep, aching weariness seep through his body and his head began to nod.

  Chapter 19

  Princess Asagao’s immaculately painted face was just as doll-like and expressionless as Kai remembered from his childhood and her floor-length glossy black hair showed only a few threads of silver.

  “Welcome back, Kaito,” she said, as if he had been away for a few days, not seven long years.

  “Mother.” He bowed his head, not just out of courtesy but to hide his bitter disappointment. What had he hoped for? They had never been close. “How is my brother? I came as fast as I could.”

  She came toward him, her long robes softly whispering as they trailed across the floorboards, and slipped slender fingers beneath his chin so that he was obliged to look into her eyes.

  “When you left us, you were a child. Now you’re a man. I see something of your father about you. The eyes, and forehead, I think…”

  “But Takeru – ?”

  “There’s little change in Takeru’s condition,” she said, her voice devoid of emotion. Her fingertips brushed his cheek as she turned away so that he could not see her expression. A smothered sob escaped from one of her ladies, who were all still kneeling, heads bowed, on the dais behind her; Kai thought that he recognized Umeko, his old nurse. “I wish to speak with Lord Kaito alone,” said Princess Asagao sharply. Instantly, her ladies-in-waiting rose and left the room, the last one discreetly sliding the door shut behind her.

  “Sit down.” Princess Asagao gestured to his father’s chair in the centre of the dais. He hesitated – and then, because his leg was aching badly, obeyed. She sat beside him on a lower chair, carefully arranging her robes in an artful swirl of gold-embroidered silk.

  “Can I see Takeru? Master Seishi taught me some special medical techniques that might help – ”

  “The most important issue here,” his mother cut in, “is that you assume his duties as soon as possible. The clan has been greatly demoralized by your brother’s absence – and seeing you will do much to restore their spirits.”

  “Me?” Surely she was joking. “But I can’t even sit a horse well, let alone ride out to lead the men into battle.”

  She flashed him a severe look that once would have made him tremble. But he was older now and determined not to be intimidated. “Everyone knows that! But if the men see you training for battle alongside them, it will encourage them to do their best.”

  “Mother.” Kai leaned forward. “Wouldn’t it be better to call a truce so that we can negotiate with Lord Toshiro? If Kakumyo hadn’t taken Naoki as hostage, none of this would have happened.”

  She rose and delivered a sharp slap. “Have you forgotten who murdered your father? The Red Kites only understand one language and that’s the way of the sword. Don’t be deceived; Lord Naoki is no different from the rest of his clan. He didn’t break into the temple just for the thrill of it; he did it to dishonor the Black Cranes.”

  Kai rubbed his stinging cheek. He had heard these arguments before from Kakumyo. He saw that – until he could devise a plan of his own – he would have to play along and appease his mother. But the fact that she had slapped him hurt more than the blow itself.

  “Do you think it’s been easy, Kaito, these past seven years? Having to rule on my own? Having to be strong to keep the clan together? The Kites took your father from us, and I’ll never forgive them for that. If we don’t restore the Tide Jewels, we will have to submit to the emperor’s justice. My pride as a Black Crane will not allow me to suffer the humiliation of a public trial. I would rather take my own life here. And I’ll do it.” Her eyes flashed with a proud and defiant light that left him in no doubt that she would be true to her word.

  She had outmaneuvered him. How could he argue with her? He had no idea how it must have been for her, suddenly widowed, forced to take over the role of clan leader.

  “Very well,” he said quietly. “I’ll do it. For the good of the clan.”

  “First we must find you some new clothes. We can’t have you looking like a common medicine peddler any longer.” She clapped her hands; instantly, the door slid open and her ladies reappeared, carrying a warrior’s fine robes embroidered with the clan’s crane crest in silver and black thread.

  “We’ve come to assist you, Lord Kaito.”

  Kai had not expected this. “N – no, ladies, I can manage by myself.” The thought of being stripped by his mother’s ladies-in-waiting filled him with embarrassment; he could already sense their curious eyes undressing him.

  “Don’t worry Lord Kaito, there’s nothing we haven’t seen before,” said Umeko, with a matronly giggle.

  “I need to bathe first.” Kai began to back away. “It would be a shame to pollute such beautiful fabric with the dirt I’ve gathered on my journey here. And wait; where are my brother’s retainers? Surely it would be better for them to assist me? Where’s Isamu?”

  His mother’s ladies glanced at each other uncertainly, as if reluctant to speak out. “Isamu hasn’t left your brother’s side since they returned,” Umeko said eventually.

  Kai wanted to see Takeru above all else, but the tenets of his healer’s training insisted that he cleanse himself first before tending to his injuries. “Can I at least take a bath?”

  “Please follow me, my lord.” Umeko slid open the door.

  “So even the great Master Seishi couldn’t heal your leg,” Princess Asagao observed as he limped out after Umeko.

  The slur on his sensei stung more acutely than the sharp slap. “It would take the gift of a god to make my body straight again,” he said. “Master Seishi may not have healed me, but he’s given me something much more precious: the skills to heal others.”

  She raised one elegantly painted eyebrow. “We may well have need of those skills if this siege continues much longer.”

  ***

  As Lord Kaito was hurried away toward the main house, Sakami saw him turn around, giving her one last look over his shoulder. “Thank you,” he said silently, and as she saw his lips frame the words she knew that their brief, intimate friendship was over.

  She stood in the middle of the courtyard as servants and guards milled around her. Now that the initial danger was past, she suddenly felt as if all her energy had drained away.

  It was always going to end this way. He’s the clan lord, I’m a kitchen maid. What did I expect? Yet she had not anticipated that the feeling of loss would be quite so acute.

  “So you’re back, Sakami?” She raised her head to see Yuna standing in front of her, head cocked to one side like a curious little bird.

  Sakami nodded.

  “You must be tired after such a long journey. Go to the bath house and get cleaned up. You can start your duties again in the morning.”

  Sakami stared, wondering if she had heard aright. She had been fully expecting to be put to work straight away.

  “Off you go now before I change my mind!”

  “Th – thank you, Yuna.” Sakami turned, only to find herself staring up at Shun, standing behind her with arms folded.

  “Why didn’t you tell me about Lord Kaito?”

  “I was under the general’s orders to tell no one.”

  “Why didn’t he choose me? I know the mountain as well as you.”

  “Are you cross because he thought I was more suited to the mission?” She couldn’t resist baiting him a little; he was always so full of himself, especially around the other kitchen girls. Competing with Rikyu.

  “He put you in danger. My little sister. He had no right…”

  “Ah, Shun, were you worried about me?” She was touched by his concern, even if he wasn’t expressing it very coherently. “As you can see, I’ve come back safe and sound.” She flung her arms around him and hugged him.

  “I hope he makes sure that you’re properly remunerated,” Shun said
gruffly.

  ***

  Kai wrapped himself in a clean robe and came out from the steamy bath house, his hair hanging damp about his shoulders. He wondered if Sakami would be allowed the luxury of a hot bath, or whether she’d be ordered to wait her turn with the other servants. He had been sucked into the rituals of the main house before he could thank her properly. Escaping his mother’s watchful eye would be difficult, but he was determined to seek Sakami out and reward her for her courage.

  Umeko was waiting for him, holding the black and gold robes the princess had selected for him to wear. She led him into one of the guest rooms and helped him put on the fine clothes, talking softly as she fastened the silk obi around his waist.

  “My lady has been under a great deal of pressure. Please don’t take any of what she said to heart, Lord Kaito.”

  He nodded.

  “She doesn’t show it, of course. She finds it hard to show any of her feelings, my lord. Once, it was different. But after you fell ill – ” She broke off, one hand covering her mouth.

  “After I fell ill?”

  “Oh, forgive me, my lord, I’ve gone too far. It’s not my place to speak about these things.”

  It felt odd to hear Umeko address him so formally. “Won’t you call me Kai, as you used to?”

  She smiled at him conspiratorially. “Only when we’re alone together. If your mother were to hear…”

  “I understand.” He smiled back at her in gratitude. At least there was one person in his mother’s entourage with whom he felt at ease.

  ***

  “Takeru – it’s me, Kaito. Can you hear me?” Kai leaned forward to take his brother’s wrist, feeling for a pulse. He could just make out Isamu’s anxious face on the opposite side of the bed in the gloom.

  Takeru murmured something unintelligible and half-opened his eyes.

  “Can you see my hand, Takeru?” Kai held up his right hand, thumb and little finger tucked away. “How many fingers?”

  “Lord Kaito, I fail to see how this is going to help – ” Isamu began, but Takeru shifted his head a little and said in a slurred voice, “Three.”