The Flood Dragon's Sacrifice

by Sarah Ash

“I – I didn’t know myself, Inari-sama,” she stammered. “Is it a problem?” So Honou had been stirring up trouble. Was it possible that her little fox cub was jealous?

  The goddess’s eyes glinted with displeasure. “Did your mother never tell you? The dragon lords of the sea are my enemies.”

  “My mother?” Sakami stared at the goddess, mystified. “She died when I was five. I don’t remember her very well.”

  “Your mother Sakura was once my shrine maiden. But then she met your father… and now you’ve become my favored mountain child in her place.”

  So there was more to the goddess’s favor than she had at first imagined. Sakami glanced around, wondering if anyone else was watching them, but no one seemed to be paying them any attention.

  “Listen to me, Sakami. You must stay away from Lord Kaito. No matter what you may have begun to feel for him, you must keep your distance.”

  “Stay away?”

  “Listen, Sakami. If you suspect that Lord Kaito is planning to make contact with the Tide Dragons, you must stop him.”

  “But how can I – ”

  “The patrol’s been attacked!” The sudden shout cut across Sakami’s question. “Send for Master Ujiake!”

  “The patrol?” The empty bucket dropped from Sakami’s hands with a clatter. Had Shun’s detachment been on patrol duty today? “Excuse me, my la – ” But Inari had already disappeared.

  Salami sped off toward the main gate to see a curious crowd gathering, all talking in hushed voices. Perhaps that shinobi we encountered came back with reinforcements. What shall I do if Shun’s been injured? Or worse? Her head buzzing with many possibilities and none of them good, she elbowed her way through the onlookers. The first four men through the archway were carrying one of their comrades between them. Then she spotted Rikyu at the rear of the patrol, supporting another archer whose jacket was soaked with blood. Even though the man’s head was drooping, she recognized him straight away and let out a cry of dismay.

  “Shun!”

  Chapter 20

  The Bureau of Divination stood in its own grounds beside the imperial palace. Its austere gardens had been designed to inspire a contemplative state of mind in the visitor, with sand as white as snow raked in swirling patterns on one side and grey pebbles on the other, and a slender path winding between the two, leading to the main entrance. As Ayaka followed her parents inside, the hushed atmosphere made her feel on edge; the diviners they passed bowed to them, shuffling silently along the corridors, musing, she imagined, about the stars and the portents they had been studying.

  I wonder what they’ve predicted about my future?

  “Welcome, my lord, ladies.” The head of the Bureau greeted them cordially, offering tea as they settled themselves on the silken cushions. “We are doubly honored today; first by his highness Prince Hotaru, and now by the Minister of the Right and his family.”

  “His highness is here too?” Ayaka whispered.

  “Prince Hotaru is one of our most erudite diviners,” said the Head reverently. “He has studied the art of onmyōdō since he was a boy; he’s the most gifted pupil it’s been my privilege to instruct. Even with his state duties, he still makes time to assist us three or four times a week. For some years he has been researching a learned treatise based on his studies of the ancient scrolls we keep stored in the library here. And at present he is helping us divine the most auspicious day and hour for the emperor to celebrate the Tide Festival.

  “We have much to discuss, my lord, Princess. Perhaps Lady Ayaka would enjoy a walk in our gardens now that the sun has come out from the morning clouds.” He slid open a door which led directly into the inner garden and smiled respectfully at her.

  “Stay in the shade and don’t ruin your complexion!” called out her mother.

  I know when I’m not wanted. Ayaka rose, shaking out the folds of her train, and made her way into the sunlight. The instant she was outside, the door was slid firmly shut behind her. How tiresome. Now I can’t even eavesdrop.

  The inner garden was planted with maples whose delicate green leaves were trembling slightly in the breeze. Grey and white pebbles lay on either side of the path, with beds of nodding ornamental grasses in between.

  Ayaka slipped the prince’s letter out of her sleeve and read it again as she walked. The thought that Prince Hotaru must have smoothed the paper, then folded it with his own hand, set her pulse racing as the words that he had written seemed to fly off the paper and pierce her heart.

  ‘Your words flew off the page and..’ I could use that phrase in my reply. But should I reply? It might seem too forward. On the other hand, not to acknowledge it would have looked as if she didn’t appreciate the prince’s poetry, and that would be unpardonably impolite.

  She had been so absorbed in her thoughts that she hadn’t noticed that the winding path was leading her to a stone building. She could see through the half-open windows that it was a library; the walls were lined with shelves of scrolls and scholars sat at desks, poring over their work. As she gazed, the diviner at the desk nearest the garden window looked up from his studies, pushing his slipping spectacles back up the bridge of his nose. Her heart missed a beat.

  Prince Hotaru.

  He smiled at her, a shy, charming smile; she smiled back and then realized that she was still holding his letter. It was too late to hide it. And now he had left his desk and was sliding open the door.

  What do I say? What do I do?

  “Lady Ayaka. I was just thinking of you…and then you appeared. As if my thoughts had conjured you here.” He was still smiling.

  “You – you were thinking of me, highness?” Ayaka was afraid she might faint.

  “The diviners have picked the day for the Tide Festival. I was hoping that you might agree to perform in the ceremonial dance that day.”

  “Me? In the dance?” Ayaka was enthralled at the thought. “I’d love to – I mean, I’d be honored.” All thoughts of fainting had vanished.

  “I think you’d be perfect in the role of the First Empress.”

  Ayaka had danced as one of the Empress Himiko’s handmaidens when she was younger, but the prestigious role of the empress was usually taken by one of the favored ladies of the court. The youngest pageboys played the Tide Dragons, with two teams of eight making up the undulating bodies, and the tallest ones working the dragons’ heads.

  “When do we start to rehearse?” she asked eagerly.

  “Tomorrow. The festival is to take place in seven days’ time.”

  The poem. I have to thank him for the poem.

  “I’ll have a palanquin sent to fetch you; I expect the princess will insist on accompanying you.”

  “Mother?” Ayaka was less enthusiastic about the prospect of her mother tagging along as chaperone; Princess Omiya had a mortifying habit of broadcasting her daughter’s virtues to anyone who would listen.

  “Ayaka?” As if on cue, her mother’s voice rang out imperiously across the garden. Ayaka winced. Her timing is excruciatingly bad. “Forgive me, your highness. I must go.”

  ***

  “Was that Prince Hotaru I saw you talking to just now?” Her mother fixed her with a stern stare. “You should not be seen alone together. People will gossip.”

  “Let them,” said Ayaka. Nothing could ruin her happiness; she felt as if she were floating on her own rosy little cloud. “The prince was asking me to take the role of the First Empress in the festival.”

  “He was asking – ” The princess broke off with a cry of delight. “What an honor for our household. Your father will be so delighted. But we must not keep the diviners waiting.” She hurried Ayaka into the presence of the head of the Bureau again.

  “Welcome back, Lady Ayaka,” he said, adjusting his little spectacles on the end of his spindle nose as he looked up from the document he had been studying. “It seems – according to the terms of the contract your parents signed with Princess Asagao – that if Lord Takeru is unable to fulfill his obligations, y
ou are to marry his younger brother, Lord Kaito.”

  “What?” Ayaka was so appalled that she forgot all about propriety. The rosy little cloud of happiness in which she had been cocooned melted away.

  “Hush, Ayaka. Please don’t forget where you are.” Her mother glared furiously at her, but Ayaka was not to be quelled so easily.

  “Lord Kaito will become head of the Black Cranes in his brother’s stead, so it will not affect your status,” her father added in mollifying tones.

  “Now wait just a moment!” Ayaka held up one hand, trying to stop the flow of placatory comments. For a brief, blissful while she had believed that they were about to arrange a marriage with Prince Hotaru. “I understood that Lord Kaito was so badly crippled that he left the clan to enter a monastery.”

  “That is true,” said the head.

  “Then how can I marry him? He’s a monk! I’m not marrying anyone with a shaven head.”

  “Ayaka, please calm down and listen. Lord Kaito is only a novice. He hasn’t shaved his head or taken any binding vows. And – ”

  “I absolutely refuse.”

  ***

  As they were leaving the Bureau of Divination, with her father’s bodyguards marching on either side, the ox-drawn carriage suddenly juddered to a halt. Lord Nagamoto leaned out of the window. “What’s wrong, driver?”

  The chief bodyguard came up and whispered in his ear. Ayaka was still so furious at the outcome of the consultation that she had not yet deigned to say a word to either of her parents. Her mother was languidly fanning herself; the sun was beating down on the roof of the cart and there was no shade on the straight road. “It’s far too hot to be travelling at this hour,” she complained. “Why do we have to wait? Your father is the Minister of the Right, not some common tradesman.”

  “Hush, Mother.” Ayaka was listening intently. “Can’t you hear something?”

  A regiment of the Imperial Guard came marching past, the officers on horseback, the foot soldiers shouldering spears. Following behind them were carts carrying provisions and equipment.

  “Where are they off to?” demanded the princess. “They look as if they’re setting out on campaign.”

  Lord Nagamoto sat down again and pulled down the blind.

  “You’re right, as ever, my dear,” he said. Then he tapped with his closed fan on the roof of the cart; the driver called out to the oxen and they lumbered off again with a jolt.

  “Aren’t you going to tell us where they’re going? Or why?”

  Ayaka’s father sighed. “News has reached the imperial court that Lord Toshiro has laid siege to Castle Kurozuro.”

  Princess Omiya let out a little shriek. “Poor Asagao! How terrifying for her. That man’s a lunatic – he should have been executed, not exiled, when he took Lord Morimitsu’s head.”

  “Be that as it may,” continued her father patiently, “the emperor has decided to send his own troops to Princess Asagao’s aid. They’ll be travelling by sea – on the fastest warships in the imperial fleet.”

  “Let’s just pray they get there in time before the Kites raze the castle to the ground and slaughter everyone inside.” Omiya fanned herself vigorously.

  “Oh, I think the Cranes won’t let themselves be defeated so easily.”

  Ayaka could not believe how close she had come to getting caught up in a new clan war. Thank heavens that Prince Hotaru stopped me setting sail for the castle.

  ***

  “Little steps, Lady Ayaka, little steps, as you move to the centre of the floor.” Lady Saisho, one of the empress’s ladies-in-waiting, had been appointed to instruct the dancers. “And – stop.”

  Ayaka’s feet were aching. They had been rehearsing all morning and she longed to sit down. Lady Saisho had danced the role of the First Empress Himiko herself many years ago and she was rigorous in her insistence that the intricate movements should be correctly and gracefully performed.

  “Each gesture you make is meaningful in the telling of the story,” she reminded Ayaka. “The older courtiers will notice if you make a mistake.”

  Ayaka nodded, doing her best to hide her true feelings behind the dutiful expression she had spent years cultivating in response to her mother’s frequent lectures. But inside she was seething with anxieties and impatience. I’m doing my best and it’s still not good enough for her? She’s impossible to please! I suppose no one could possibly hope to dance the role as perfectly as she did. As if I wasn’t nervous enough about performing before Prince Hotaru.

  “We’ll start from the moment when you throw the Ebb Jewel. Musicians – ready?”

  Suppressing a sigh, Ayaka took up the white silk ball representing the Ebb Jewel and listened for the phrase in the music when she made her move. The breathy sound of the shō in the orchestra marked the moment when the waves receded and the Ebb Dragon made its appearance. But who should appear but the boys carrying the blue and silver head of the Flood Dragon?

  “No!” Lady Saisho let out a most unladylike cry of annoyance and clapped her hands. The music stopped as the boys slithered to a halt and the tallest took off the headdress. “Lady Ayaka, would you care to take a rest while I have words with these boys?”

  Ayaka did not hesitate to take advantage of Lady Saisho’s suggestion. Sitting down and taking the weight off her sore feet was bliss. Reika brought her some tea, and as she sipped it she half-listened to Lady Saisho talking sternly to the dancers.

  “Why did you come on first, Flood Dragon boys?”

  They hung their heads, muttering inaudible excuses.

  “You all know the legend, I hope? Who can remind the others in this team what they appear to have forgotten this morning?”

  The littlest pageboy half-raised his hand. “When Empress Himiko saw the enemy ships sailing into the bay, she prayed to Ryūjin, King of the Sea, to help her save Cipangu. He gave her the Tide Jewels and first she threw the Ebb Jewel so that the tide went out and the enemy ships were left high and dry.”

  “Very good,” Lady Saisho said, but Ayaka saw that she was tapping her foot with irritation. “Flood Dragon team, you wait for the Ebb Dragon team to cross the stage. Lady Ayaka will turn to you and throw the blue ball that represents the Flood Jewel. Then – and only then – do you make your appearance. ”

  “I can’t blame them for being inattentive,” Reika murmured to Ayaka. “They’re little boys; they’d much rather be outside practicing their archery.”

  “Why do I have to dance with children?” Ayaka felt close to sulking.

  “Because it’s the tradition. And we can’t change the tradition in case we bring about bad luck.” Was she speaking ironically? Reika’s face was devoid of expression, so Ayaka had no idea.

  ***

  The twanging strings of the biwa fell silent as the drums began to beat out a new, stately rhythm.

  “When you hear the shakuhachi play the first line of the empress’s melody, you glide out to the centre of the dancers, using the steps we practiced, Lady Ayaka.” Lady Saisho gave a graceful demonstration to remind her.

  Ayaka nodded. She was wearing the imperial headdress for the first time today and every time she moved her head, tiny silver bells tinkled.

  My neck is getting stiff; this headdress is too heavy. And then she remembered what an honor it was to be suffering in this way; Prince Hotaru had chosen her for this role and she must do her best not to let him down.

  All went well until the Ebb Dragon boys began to bicker and push each other. “Look out!” Ayaka said sharply as one of them trod on her skirt.

  The bickering changed to yells as one of the boys lashed out at another; the next instant the two of them went rolling across the floor, locked in mortal combat.

  “Fight! Fight!” shouted the others, stamping their feet to encourage them.

  Lady Saisho raised her eyes to heaven. “Little boys.”

  Someone streaked past her into the centre of the ring of boys and, grabbing each combatant by the collar, hauled them apart, holdi
ng them at arm’s length as they continued to punch the air.

  Ayaka blinked. “Reika?”

  “How dare you fight before my mistress?” Reika glared at the children with such cold fury that they both drooped in her grip. “Now go and apologize to her right away. And don’t embarrass your families by behaving so badly again.”

  She let them drop and stalked back to her place behind Ayaka; in the shocked silence, several of the adults applauded. The boys, eyes downcast, shuffled up to Ayaka and knelt before her to bow their heads. One had a bloody nose; his mumbled apology issued through sniffles.

  “Well done, my lady.” Lady Saisho smiled at her. “I haven’t seen anyone accomplish the hand movements with such artistry since Princess Aoi…”

  “Princess Aoi danced this role?” Ayaka was suddenly all attention.

  “Why yes; everyone said that she won Prince Hotaru’s heart with her exquisite grace and modesty. In fact, it was just after the Tide Festival that he took her as his bride.”

  And the prince asked me to take the role. Does this mean…? Ayaka’s heart began to patter so fast that she had to sit down and fan herself. Does this mean he sees me as her successor?

  Chapter 21

  “Shun!”

  Sakami flew over to help Rikyu support her brother. As she slipped her arm around his waist, she heard him grunt with pain.

  “I – can manage, Sakami.” Shun tried to smile but from the set of his mouth she saw the effort it cost him.

  “What happened?”

  “An ambush.” Rikyu swore under his breath. “They came from nowhere. Just like birds, swooping down from the trees, attacking with a hail of shuriken. Shun – idiot that he is – threw me down. A shuriken caught him while he was shielding me.”

  “Idiot?” Shun echoed weakly. “So that’s the thanks I get for saving your sorry – ” He broke off, wincing.

  “Just shut up and conserve your strength. You can complain all you like when you’re on the mend.”

  Even though they were still trading insults, Sakami sensed the underlying tension; she had never seen the easy-going Rikyu so shaken before.