by Sarah Ash
And then the Kite Shadow began to fade. He felt the weight of Saburo’s unconscious body dragging him down. His hands ached with the strain of gripping the shields; it felt as if the taut-stretched skin was about to split and the knuckle bones protrude through raw flesh.
“Master,” he gasped. I…can’t sustain the jutsu any longer.
“Hold up – a little longer.” Yoriaki’s voice was hoarse; even he was laboring to stay in the air. “Aim for the camp fires.”
But Masao was at his limit and he began to drop rapidly toward the ground. He could just make out a blurred glare below, lights strung out like a necklace of fiery gems marking the boundaries of the camp.
Have we made it back in time?
The last of the Kite Shadow bled out from his body and they came hurtling down, crashing onto the darkened shore.
Masao rolled over onto his back in the soft sand. There was a roaring in his ears that sounded like shouting but he could not make sense of what was being said. He became aware of men all around them, lifting Saburo and carrying him away. And then all he could hear was the pounding of blood in his ears and his own painful rasping for breath.
***
“You left one of my iron dragons outside the castle?” Lord Toshiro paced in front of Masao and Yoriaki as they knelt before him. “As a gift to our enemies?”
“It was shattered beyond repair, my lord. And now that Saburo is – is – ” Masao couldn’t continue; a painful lump choked the words in his throat.
“The explosion backfired and Saburo was critically injured; he hasn’t regained consciousness,” Yoriaki put in. “But Chikaaki’s squad caused considerable damage to the main gatehouse with the fire arrows; next time, we should be able to mount a double-pronged attack and gain entry.”
“Then we’ll concentrate our resources on making more fire arrows.” Lord Toshiro stopped pacing. “Masao, tell Saburo’s assistants to produce as many as they can. We’ll subject the Cranes to a bombardment they’ll never forget.”
“Saltpeter too strong… don’t use…” Masao remembered Saburo’s words before he lost consciousness. He said, “We’re lost without Saburo’s expertise. The armorers need more time to blend and test the fire drug, or we’re in danger of blowing up our own men.”
“We don’t have time. We have to take advantage of the breach Chikaaki’s squad have made in their defenses. We have to strike now, before the Cranes recover.”
Chapter 27
“So there was no trace of any Kites in the tunnel, my lord?” Susumu asked as he untied the cords on Kai’s body armor.
Kai shook his head. He was stiff, tired and hot; all he wanted was to get out of the warrior’s carapace and go to soak his aches away in the bath-house.
“But the gatehouse is a smoking shell.” Susumu lifted the constricting armor, and Kai shrugged off the heavy padded jacket beneath, glad to be free at last. “Those fire arrows caused a lot of damage.” He brought over the light tunic Kai had been wearing earlier and eased it over his master’s shoulders. As he did so, something was dislodged from one of the sleeves and fell onto the floor.
The tortoiseshell comb.
Susumu retrieved it and handed it to Kai without a word; Kai took it, grateful that the squire had not been so tactless as to ask him why he was in possession of such a delicate piece of women’s jewelry.
How could I have forgotten to give Sakami her reward? The Kites’ attack had driven it from his mind. He turned the comb over in his hands, wondering what excuse he could think up to see her without creating unwelcome gossip.
***
Kai inhaled the bitter, green scent of the itadori Honou had brought as he chopped the roots and put them to infuse over the cooking fire.
He had been relieved to discover that the Kites had not managed to break into the siege tunnel. But how much longer will we be able to keep them out?
If only the rising steam would clear my head.
He strained the infusion and set it to cool.
Just the thought of Sakami brought back memories from the journey: the way she smiled at him, so frankly, so unselfconsciously; the scent of her hair, her skin, that faint, sweet breath of wild flowers…
“Lord Kaito – what are you doing in the kitchen?”
The voice made him jump. Seeing Sakami in the doorway, he tried to push his thoughts to the back of his mind.
“General Tachibana has men searching for you all over the castle.”
“Thank you.” He focused his attention on what he must tell her. “I’ve made the antidote up as an infusion; give Shun a measure to drink every three hours. And if any others amongst the wounded show similar symptoms of spiny urchin poisoning, make sure they get the same treatment.”
She nodded. “One measure every three hours.”
As he handed her the bottle, their fingertips brushed. A burning shiver went through him at her touch. “Sakami – ”
“Yes?” She was gazing up at him expectantly.
“This is for you.” He took out the tortoiseshell comb. “It’s not much, I know, as recompense for bringing me safely back over the mountain. But when this siege is done, I promise I’ll make it up to you and reward you properly. Meanwhile, please accept this little gift as a token of my gratitude.”
She took the comb, examining it in silence.
Perhaps she doesn’t like it. He watched her face anxiously.
“It’s far too good for me, my lord. I… I couldn’t possibly accept it.”
Too good? Has she never been given any jewelry before? Suddenly emboldened, he took the comb from her and gently placed it in her hair. “Then please wear it for me, Sakami. It would make me happy.”
“On festival days, then,” she said, blushing. “But it’s too precious to wear every day. I’d be afraid of losing it in the kitchen or dropping it down the well.”
“There you are, my lord!” Susumu called from the doorway. “The general requests that you join him in the courtyard. Rikyu’s squad have found something.”
“I – I’d better go.” Kai turned away. As he hurried after his squire, he cursed himself for being so awkward and shy. Next time I have to tell her how I feel…
***
A small crowd had gathered in the kitchen courtyard. Bowing to Kai, servants and soldiers drew aside, as Susumu led the way through to where General Tachibana was squatting down to examine a large iron cylinder. He was touching the discolored metal gingerly, wiping away some of the powdery residue and sniffing it warily.
“What do you make of this, Lord Kaito?” he asked. “The patrol discovered it outside the mountain entrance to the siege tunnel – along with the bodies of the guards who were keeping watch last night.”
“I’ve never seen anything like it before.” Kai noted the jagged edges at one end of the cylinder. “But it looks as if it’s been fashioned to look like a dragon,” he added, pointing to the other end, where beneath the smears of powder he could just make out moldings of a scaly snout and open jaws.
“A dragon that spits fire,” said Tachibana, getting to his feet. “I’ve heard they have such weapons in Khoryeo, but I’ve never seen one before. So the Kites must have contacts in enemy country…”
Isamu came hurrying up to join them. When he saw the iron dragon, he said, “That looks a lot like the weapon the Kites used to fire on Lord Takeru. But that one was on board Lord Toshiro’s flagship.”
“I reckon it’s the same weapon, my lord,” said one of the archers, a tall, lithe young man whom Kai had seen at Shun’s bedside; he guessed that this was Rikyu. “And we found traces of grayish-white residue around the hole it had blasted in the timbers barricading the tunnel entrance, with the same smell and consistency as the traces of powder we detected in the Kites’ fire arrows.”
“And yet they abandoned it. It looks…broken. As though it couldn’t contain its own power.” Kai looked around at the other soldiers and saw from their grim faces that they must be thinking exactly as he was: if the Kite
s had abandoned this one, they probably had plenty more.
***
“The time is up and Lord Toshiro has ignored our terms.” General Tachibana drew his katana and laid it across his knees; the razor-sharp blade glinted like moonlight on rippling water. “He leaves us no choice.”
Kai realized the significance of the gesture and felt his throat tightening with revulsion. “Execute Lord Naoki?”
“Lord Toshiro is obviously prepared to sacrifice him rather than lift the siege or negotiate terms. His honor means more to him than the life of his only son.”
“Surely there has to be some other way.” Kai looked pleadingly from his mother to the general and back again.
“Lord Toshiro didn’t hesitate when it came to taking your father’s head,” said the princess coldly. “He’s a ruthless man.”
“But to sacrifice his own son – ”
“It will be an honorable death. And a swift one,” said the general. “We’ll see if Lord Toshiro changes his tune when we deliver the head to him – ”
“Stop!” cried Kai. How could Tachibana speak so calmly? “If it were me – or Takeru – as the Kites’ hostage, how would you feel if Lord Toshiro threatened to kill us?”
“May I remind you, Kaito,” said his mother, “that we are all likely to die – and soon – if the Kites continue to bombard us with their fire weapons.”
“At least give Lord Toshiro one more chance to withdraw.” Kai refused to be browbeaten. “It’s not as if we’re running out of food or water. We may be on short rations, but we can hold out for weeks yet. As for their fire weapons,” he realized that he was shaking but carried on, hoping that she had not noticed, “they were obviously forced to abandon the one we found today. And didn’t you send a plea for help to the emperor with Kakumyo? For all we know, imperial soldiers could already be on their way.”
Princess Asagao looked at the general; he shrugged and slowly sheathed his blade.
“Very well,” he said. “I’ll send for Rikyu; he’s the best shot in the castle garrison, after Lord Takeru. We’ll have him deliver our ultimatum by arrow.”
***
Kai retired to his room to re-read Master Seishi’s treatise on healing wounds. As he opened the little scroll, he realized that he was still shaking. Standing up to his mother and Tachibana had taken more courage than he had realized, and even though he tried to concentrate on Master Seishi’s instructions on how to make an infusion of ginseng to cure loss of consciousness, the characters seemed to run together so that the words made no sense.
Susumu busied himself preparing his master’s clothes for the next day. Kai guessed that the squire must be trying to make up for the lost years when, as a masterless page, he had lost his status in the clan and been reduced to serving his own brother. The folding and brushing continued, making it hard to concentrate and when he caught a sudden strong waft of fragrance, Kai looked up. “What are you doing, Susumu?”
“Perfuming your clothes for tomorrow,” Isamu said. “Your brother and the other young lords – ”
“I’m not my brother.” Kai laid the manuscript aside. Perfumed robes? He could just imagine the astonished look Master Seishi would have given him if he had turned up in the infirmary smelling like a flower garden. “And I’d much rather wear my own clothes when I’m tending the wounded; these are far too fine for the guards’ hall.”
“Very well, my lord.” Susumu started to unpack the medicine chest, taking out Kai’s spare tunic. As he did so, something fell onto the floor and rolled across the tatami mats.
“I’m sorry, my lord. That was clumsy of me.” Susumu retrieved the fallen object and handed it to Kai; it was the ebony flute that Flood had given him. “Lord Takeru could never master the flute. Do you play, my lord?”
Kai was checking the flute to see if it had been damaged; fortunately it seemed unharmed by the fall. He had not played it once since he left the monastery. Even though his back was stiff and his shoulders were still aching from the unaccustomed weight of Takeru’s armor the day before, he found himself lifting it to his lips, just to make sure.
He blew a sequence of notes, moving from the lowest to the highest and down again. Then he played a phrase or two of one of the abbot’s favorite songs, ‘Camellia Blooms in the Snow’. When he looked up over the top of the flute he saw that Susumu was staring at him.
“I – I had no idea you were so talented, my lord.”
“Don’t praise me,” Kai said. “I’m out of practice.” And then he grinned at Susumu; even playing a few phrases had lifted his mood a little.
***
Carefully carrying the fresh ginseng infusion he had prepared for Takeru, Kai made his way toward his brother’s room. Isamu was sitting outside, ostensibly on guard, but unobtrusively catching up on lost sleep. Kai was about to slide the door open when he stopped, listening. He could hear a woman’s voice inside, murmuring so softly that he could not make out what she was saying. It couldn’t be Master Ujiake’s daughter, Teiko; her strident and imperious tones carried easily from one side of the guards’ hall to the other.
Perhaps Takeru had a secret mistress, a daughter of one of the retainers, who could only slip in secretly at night to see him to avoid causing a scandal and ruining her reputation. That might explain Isamu’s banishment to the corridor from his place at Takeru’s side.
Curious, Kai opened the door a crack and peered in. By the nightlight burning on the little stand, releasing cleansing incense fumes, he recognized his mother. The princess was kneeling at Takeru’s bedside, stroking his hand, and speaking softly to him.
“I’ve missed our little talks together, Takeru. If only you could hear me… Come back to us, my dear; the clan needs you. I need you. It’s so hard to know what to do for the best without you to advise me.”
I shouldn’t be overhearing this. Kai was so surprised to see Princess Asagao behaving in such a caring, motherly way that he could only stare, a voyeur. Did she sit by my side when I caught the fever? Did she talk to me and stroke my hand? He could not remember.
“Can we hold out against the Kites for much longer? Suppose the emperor refuses my request? How can I protect all our people with such a small garrison? I’ve even had to arm the kitchen girls.”
“ ‘S all right…Mother.” Kai had not expected to hear his brother reply. “Don’t cry.”
“Takeru.” The princess took her hand in hers and pressed it to her cheek. “What’s going to become of us all?”
Kai could not watch any longer. He turned to go and Isamu stirred.
“My lord?” he said sleepily.
“Shh.” Kai placed the bowl of ginseng infusion beside him. “Make sure my brother drinks this when my mother has gone.”
“Very well, my lord.”
Kai nodded and retreated. She sees only Takeru. He felt numb and empty inside. Nothing has changed.
***
“My lord, I don’t know how to thank you. Shun’s sleeping and his fever’s gone.”
Kai saw tears glistening in Sakami’s eyes. Seeing her so distressed made him forget his own emptiness, but he didn’t know how to react; she had never revealed this vulnerable side to him before. His first instinct was to put his arms around her and kiss the tears away. Instead he said, “Sakami, there’s something important I need to ask you. And Shun, when he’s stronger.”
“What is it?”
He hesitated, knowing that he was asking her to revisit the most painful and terrifying episode of her life. “Not here,” he said. “Could you bring tea to Lord Takeru’s room? And some wagashi.”
“Tea?” Her eyes widened, and then she gave him a quick bow of the head. “I understand, my lord.”
***
On Kai’s advice, Isamu and Susumu were hovering over Takeru as he took his first tentative steps into the inner garden at the heart of the castle complex. He knew they would not return for some time, as Takeru could hardly place one foot in front of the other without assistance.
&n
bsp; If his body has forgotten how to walk, the sooner we start to retrain it the better.
He sat down and waited for Sakami to come with the tea, looking out at the tranquil garden through the half-open sliding screen. A warbler was singing in the feathery leaves of a little scarlet maple whose branches overhung his mother’s cherished white peonies; its song issued in a flood of watery notes.
“There were only tsubaki mochi left, I hope they are to your taste, my lord; the honeysuckle syrup makes them rather sweet.” Sakami knelt to pour the tea.
“Sakami,” Kai said quietly, “we’re alone. Remember what you promised me?”
“I’m sorry, Kai.” She passed him the delicate bowl of steaming tea and he nodded his thanks, pensively turning it around between his hands.
“Won’t you join me?”
She glanced into the garden, as if fearing they were being watched.
“Would it help if I ordered you to?”
She smiled. “If that is your wish, Kai, then I must obey.” She poured herself some of the fragrant green tea and sat back on her heels to take a sip.
“It’s so quiet here,” he said, content just to watch her. “It’s hard to believe that we’re in the middle of a bloody siege.”
“What did you want to ask me?” She set the bowl down.
He hesitated a moment, and then plunged in. “We’ve always thought it was the Kites who sacked your village. But we have no idea why. I’m sorry to ask you to relive painful memories, Sakami, but can you remember anything from that night that might give any clue as to their motives?”
She stared at the tea in her bowl, not meeting his eyes. “Shun and I were out on the mountain, picking berries. When the sun began to set we realized we’d be in trouble with Father for being out so late. But then we saw a red glow, and smoke rising. Then we heard shouts. And screaming.” She shivered, wrapping her arms around herself as if she felt chilled. “I thought one of the village huts had caught on fire but Shun sensed danger, so we hid in the cave. And then we saw them. Warriors swooping down from the trees, black shadows against the flames. Demon-masked. They were merciless…” Her voice tailed away. The warbler began to trill again in the silence.