by Sarah Ash
Following Kai’s family came Tachibana’s wife, holding their two young children by the hand, and several servants carrying lacquered chests; this group were directed to a second ship. Kai, recognizing Rikyu among them, realized that his mother had cannily managed to sneak several of the elite Kite archers into their party. This reassured him a little; they would not be going into exile utterly defenceless.
And then, bringing up the rear, grimly lugging a heavy cooking pot filled with rattling cooking utensils, he saw Yuna. If Yuna was leaving Kurozuro Castle, then what had become of the other kitchen girls? He scanned the beach for a sight of Mai, Mami, or Sakami – but they were nowhere to be seen.
“Hurry up,” called down one of the sailors to Yuna. “The tide’ll soon be on the turn.”
“I’ll get there when I get there,” she called back and Kai heard her mutter under her breath as she passed his hiding place, “Would it hurt a strapping young man like you to give an old woman a helping hand?”
The tide’ll soon be on the turn? Kai heard the sailor’s words and began to panic. Already? And I haven’t found Sakami yet. Did she get back safely to the castle? Shun had not been amongst the archers, so perhaps she had stayed with her brother. Or has she forgotten who she is. . .and she’s still in kitsune form, roaming wild on the mountainside with Honou?
If he left his hiding place, someone was sure to spot him. He wondered if he had gained the power to hold back the tide and delay their departure. But perhaps that was beyond his newfound abilities. . .
“May Ryujin protect us.” Umeko’s familiar soft tones drifted back to him. “I pray the weather will stay fair.” There was a tremor of anxiety in her voice that he had never heard before; she had always been so patient and reassuring with him. “And may the sea be kind to us all.”
She must be terrified – especially after the devastation caused by Flood all along the coast at the Tide Festival. And the sound of her tremulous voice, usually so strong, brought home the full impact of what was happening to his family.
Why must Hotaru make them suffer for what I did to him?
Crouched behind the seaweed-slicked boulder, he could do nothing but observe and rage silently against the new emperor’s dictate.
“I’m so sorry that you have to be uprooted from your home,” he whispered, “dear Umeko.”
There was only one course of action he could take for now: follow the imperial ships, watch over his family, and do all he could to give the Black Cranes a calm sea journey into exile – wherever that might be.
“The sea will be kind to you; you can rely on Masao and me to protect you.”
***
Dusk was falling as the rocky outline of an island appeared on the horizon. Kai quietly broke the surface, peering through the haze of mist rising off the waves, From the distant shouts of the sailors on the imperial ships, he could hear orders being given to steer straight ahead. Lanterns were lit and hung from the rigging and the bows. The wind had dropped, the sails hung limply and the sea was so calm that the oarsmen were hard at work, laboring to make progress.
Masao surfaced a little further way off, keeping within the cover of the drifting mist.
“Is this some sick joke of Hotaru’s?” Kai heard him murmur.
“What do you mean?” They had been at sea for a day and a night and Kai had lost his bearings. “Where are we?”
“Akatobi Island.”
“Akatobi Island? Are you sure?”
Masao shot him a dark look.
“Then where is your clan? Hotaru wouldn’t be so thoughtless as to exile my family here while your clan is still in residence – would he?”
Masao shot Kai another look that made him feel foolish for even asking the question.
“But suppose your clan lookouts think they’re under attack?” The real possibility of another stand-off between the two clans alarmed Kai and he set off, speedily skimming through the water toward the lamp-lit ships
“Stop, Kai.” Masao’s command was so brusque that, startled, he obeyed. And then he saw why. His sudden swift movement had disturbed the waves, setting the fleet ships madly bobbing up and down in a restless swell.
“Tide surge! Hold her steady!” Faint cries reached his ears from the decks.
“I did that?”
“You’re Flood – or have you forgotten already?”
All Kai had been aware of was his anger and alarm at Hotaru’s scheme; he had not realized till then how powerful he had become in Tide Dragon form.
“Keep out of sight.” Masao hissed.
Kai obeyed, watching the ships sail slowly on until the regular splash of the oars could hardly be heard.
“There’s nothing we can do,” Masao said softly, almost as if talking to himself. Was Masao as apprehensive as he about an impending clan clash: Black Cranes entering Red Kite territory?
“Who was left behind on the island?”
“Women and children, mostly. But all the women know how to wield a naginata to defend themselves. And then there’s the older men, including the armorers.”
“Kinkiyo, the swordsmith?”
Masao nodded. “We need to talk with him. Urgently. And we’ll need to find a way to protect him.”
“You think –”
“If Kurika has the slightest suspicion that we plan to reforge Inari’s sacred sword, he’ll do all he can to prevent us. He’d think nothing of killing Kinkiyo and the other armorers.”
Kai had yet to encounter Kurika but he had seen the damage he had wrought at the monastery: the desolate, smoking ruins of the Tide Dragons temple, his home and refuge since childhood. “It’s low tide soon, you can go ashore under cover of darkness while I keep watch out here,” said Kai.
“Very well.” Masao turned his pearl-scaled head toward the shore. Before he dived, Kai heard him murmur. “But first there’s someone else I must see.”
“Someone else?”
But the Kite had already set off, gliding slowly yet purposefully toward the island.
Chapter 6
Commander Higekuro’s arrival had caused such a stir among the Red Kites that a curious crowd had assembled at the little harbor to greet the imperial fleet.
Which works to my advantage. Sneaking unchallenged around the back of the main house in the gathering dusk, Masao borrowed a yukata and sandals from the bathhouse. Knotting the woven belt about his waist, he hunted for a lantern to light his way up the steep wooded hill to the armorers’ forge.
Although all the commotion in the harbor may have brought Kinkiyo down from his hillside forge to investigate.
The sound of ragged cheers from the shore made him pause.
What has Higekuro told them? That we’re pardoned? What’s Hotaru’s plan?
Curiosity overcame Masao and, keeping to the shadows, he made his way the few hundred yards or so to the harbor.
Commander Higekuro, resplendent in his lacquered armor, backed up by his seconds-in-command bearing the imperial banners, made an imposing sight in the golden gleam of the ships’ lanterns.
“Now that his imperial majesty, Emperor Hotaru, has granted you a full pardon, Lord Toshiro will send ships for you. Then you can return to the mainland and help him rebuild Castle Akatobi. Lord Toshiro has promised that every member of the clan who offers his or her service will receive a sack of rice.”
More cheers greeted this announcement – but then a woman’s voice rang out above the general babble.
“Is there any news of our men who went to fight the Cranes at Kurozuro? We’ve heard nothing since they left.”
“Yes – where are the men?” shouted another woman.
Masao, standing in the shelter of the fishermen’s hut, heard the desperate demands and realized that – in their haste to return to Akatobi – his father and the elder retainers had neglected to send a list of casualties.
So Beniko doesn’t know that Saburo won’t be coming back.
Higekuro lifted one hand for silence. “That is a question th
at only Lord Toshiro can answer,” he said. “Is there anyone called Kinkiyo here? I have further instructions from the emperor.”
Masao had been turning over in his mind the likelihood that Beniko had not been told of her husband’s death. I owe it to Saburo to tell her myself. And to find some way to provide for her and little Ren. Saburo’s death still weighed heavily on his conscience. He had not yet come to terms with the death of the good-natured armorer who had acted as his mentor and trained him in the dangerous art of making fire drug.
“You called for me, Commander?”
Masao saw the little crowd part to make way for the powerfully built armorer as Kinkiyo approached Higekuro.
“I have a letters for you from the Lord Nagamoto and General Okitane. . .”
Masao kept in the shadows of the hut, watching Kinkiyo take the letters from the commander, then make his way back up the hill.
I can’t make contact with him down here; someone’s sure to recognize me. I’ll have to wait till it starts to go dark. As long as the tide doesn’t turn first. . .
***
The sun was sinking as Masao made his way up to Kinkiyo’s forge. The hillside was uncannily silent: he could hear neither the wheeze of the bellows nor the rhythmic clanging of the smiths’ hammers. It was odd to be able to listen to the twittering of birds in the bushes and the raucous keening of seagulls high overhead. And as he drew nearer he noticed that there wasn’t even a single thread of smoke twisting up from the forge fires against the cloudless evening sky. But then he caught another sound, one that he had been dreading: a woman’s quiet sobbing.
Dipping his head to enter by the low doorway, he saw by the wavering flame of a single lamp Beniko, her face buried in her sleeve, with Kinkiyo beside her, gently patting her shoulder. At her feet sat little Ren, one hand clutching at his mother’s kimono, his other thumb stuck in his mouth,
Masao’s courage failed him a moment. Steeling himself, he said softly, “May I come in?”
Kinkiyo turned around. “Lord Masao?” he said.
Masao shook his head. “Just one of your armorers, returned from the siege at Kurozuro.”
Kinkiyo nodded, beckoning him inside. “I understand.”
Masao bowed low to Beniko who raised her red-eyed face to his. The sight almost unmanned him – but he had a debt to Saburo and he had vowed to pay it properly.
“Beniko-san,” he said respectfully, “it seems the news has reached you before I could.”
She nodded.
“The commander gave me this letter from your uncle.” Kinkiyo handed Masao the folded paper; Masao opened and saw the blunt message scribed in his uncle’s bold handwriting: ‘We regret to inform you of the death of Saburo, armorer, killed in action at the siege of Castle Kurozuro.’
“How did it happen?” Beniko asked, wiping her eyes.
Masao swallowed. “We were on a mission to storm the castle. The iron dragon exploded and Saburo was caught in the blast.” The memory was still raw, an ill-healed wound.
“Oh,” she said and then the tears started again. Masao felt tears filling his own eyes in sympathy.
“Lord Toshiro has promised to provide for all those who lost husbands, fathers or sons in the siege,” said Kinkiyo.
“That’s the least he could do,” Masao heard himself say but, pricked by his conscience, he had already resolved to do more.
“Don’t cry, Mama,” said Ren, clambering up on to her lap.
Kinkiyo beckoned Masao outside.
“So the iron dragon exploded?” he said in a low voice. “Do you know why?”
“That saltpeter we collected from the mountain cave,” Masao said, “it was powerful stuff. Unstable. Saburo advised Lord Toshiro not to use it until he’d run more tests – but my lord wouldn’t listen.”
“I see.” Kinkiyo stroked his chin, digesting Masao’s information. “And you’re a wanted man because. . .”
“I destroyed the whole batch. That and. . .a few other things.”
“You realize that the new emperor wants more iron dragons and more fire drug?” Kinkiyo looked at him, the first moonlight catching a shrewd gleam in his eyes. “He’s ordered me to go to the capital to train his imperial armorers. And he’s sent Lord Naoki to harvest more of that saltpeter you found in the Sakuranbo caves.”
“But why?” Masao had not expected Hotaru to devise such a plan. “Does he anticipate an invasion?”
“Or a challenge to his authority?” Kinkiyo shrugged his broad shoulders. “All I know is our new emperor would rather put his trust in man-made weaponry than the gods of the sea.”
That made sense. All the time he and Kai were free, Hotaru would be unable to restore the link between the imperial house and the gods of the sea. Was the new emperor laying plans for a new era without the Tide Dragons on hand to obey his summons?
Has he given up on us? It was too soon to dare to hope.
“So I’m going to the capital, taking my daughter and grandson along. Life should be a little easier there for them than being put to work rebuilding the castle compound at Akatobi.”
“Beniko’s your daughter?” Masao had not realized that such a close link existed between Saburo and his master.
“Didn’t Saburo ever tell you? Always discreet, that lad, maybe too discreet for his own good,” Kinkiyo said, letting out a slow, rasping sigh.
“But if you’re off to the capital, then. . .” Masao had only just begun to realize the wider implications of Hotaru’s command. He had come with the intention of asking Kinkiyo to reforge Inari’s sacred sword – but if the smith was in the capital city, it would be far more difficult to stay in contact without Hotaru finding out. “Do you know where the new forge is to be built?”
“Outside the city walls, on the banks of the River Uji. It’s too hazardous to manufacture fire drug in a heavily populated area.”
Masao could feel the first stirrings of the coming change of tide, a niggling, unpleasant sensation that set his nerves on edge.
“I have to go,” he said. Kinkiyo followed him a little way down the path.
Masao turned to the master armorer and said, “I have a favor to ask of you. A. . .a friend of mine is looking for a gifted smith to reforge a broken blade. Could you take on such a task?”
Kinkiyo scratched the back of his ear, considering. “A broken blade? It would depend on the extent of the damage. Tell your friend to bring me the pieces when I’ve set up shop on the mainland and I’ll give them an honest answer.”
Heartened, Masao set off down the hill, breaking into a run as the urgings of the incoming tide became too forceful to ignore.
***
Masao had never penetrated so deep beneath the ocean surface before. He swam with slow strokes, gazing in amazement at the eerie world revealed to him by Ebb’s powerful vision through the cloudy green water. Fish finned past, some in dully glittering shoals, moving as one, like a cloud of startled seabirds wheeling through the air.
“Where are you taking me, Shiohiru?”
“To find a gift for the woman. The woman you care for.” The Ebb Dragon’s voice resonated through Masao’s consciousness,
“That I care for?” Masao began and then stopped. In a way it was true; he had a debt to repay dead Saburo. If Shiohiru had interpreted his concern as a deeper, more personal attachment, did it matter? As long as he found a way to make some kind of reparation to the armorer’s widow and her little son.
He glimpsed bigger fish: silver-scaled tuna and poisonous puffer fish, yet still he searched, past rocks covered in frilled sea anemones and beds of pale coral until he spotted what he was looking for.
Oyster shells.
Using Ebb’s sharp hooked talons, he lifted one and pried it open. There was succulent white oyster flesh inside but no pearl. On land, Masao would have greedily devoured such a treat – but in Ebb’s body he felt no need to eat or drink. Guilty at the waste, he moved hastily on to the next, and the next, until he cracked open the glutinous contents
of one deep-ridged shell and saw what he had been searching for: a pale milky pearl, perfectly round and almost as large as one of the original Tide Jewels. If he could have expressed his amazement aloud, he would have let out a long, long whistle of admiration.
Now if I could just find another. . . Masao continued his search, stirring up a sandy sediment as he lifted the oysters from the sea bed, until he found a second, almost as perfect as the first, softly luminous as the full moon on a clear night.
Pearls this size must be very rare.
He realized as the tug of the current jolted through him that the tide was on the turn again. For once he had not wasted his time below the waves silently and impotently raging at Hotaru.
***
“My lord, I couldn’t possibly accept these.” Beniko looked down at the glistening pearls which Masao had placed in her outstretched palms.
“I made Saburo a promise,” Masao said, shifting awkwardly from foot to foot. He could sense her embarrassment and was only too aware how inexperienced he was at dispensing gifts. “I promised that I would see you and Ren were well provided for. It means a lot to me to –” and he stumbled over the words, overcome by raw memories of the young armorer’s untimely death “– to be able to fulfill that promise. So please, Beniko-san, use them as you see fit. It’s what he would have wanted.” He reached out to close her fingers over the pearls, encasing her hands in his own.
“Thank you,” he heard her whisper. “I’ll make good use of them. For Ren’s sake.”
“Hurry along, Beniko!” Kinkiyo’s voice, resonant as the clang of his hammer, startled them both. “The ship’s sailing with the next tide.”
Beniko withdrew her hands, bowing her thanks. “Will you come to the harbor to see us set sail?”
Masao shook his head. “Remember, Beniko-san, that you must promise not to tell anyone that you’ve seen me.”
“Oh!” She placed one finger over her lips, nodding. “Not one word. And I’m so sorry, my lord, that you’ve been falsely accused.”
“So am I.” Masao tried to keep the bitterness he felt from spilling over into his voice.