by Sarah Ash
“How many are in my lord’s retinue?” Mai asked the young retainer.
“Why do you need to know?” His tone was hostile, suspicious.
“So I can estimate how many portions will be needed.”
He reckoned silently, using his fingers. “Twenty-nine men in all. More will come soon.”
“Twenty-nine,” Mai echoed despairingly. “Mami; make my lord some tea.” She beckoned Sakami to follow her to the food store. Once they were inside the cool, dark room, she began to lift the lids of the grain jars, staring inside. “Twenty-nine extra bellies to fill. What on earth are we going to give them? We were all on half-rations before the siege broke.”
“Fish?” Sakami suggested.
“The fishermen are still mending their boats, or had you forgotten? Not a single craft was left undamaged by that great wave.”
“Then they’ll just have to eat vegetables,” Sakami said, undaunted. “There’s still plenty growing in the kitchen garden.”
“You heard what that Kite said? Not just twenty-nine – more will follow.”
“Perhaps they’ll bring supplies with them from Akatobi Island.”
“And if they do, what will there be left behind for the princess and her entourage to eat? Rikyu and the archers have healthy appetites.”
“It’s always about Rikyu.” Mami appeared in the food store doorway. “When are you going to accept that he’s gone, Mai? He may never come back.”
“Where’s my lord?” Mai asked, ignoring her sister’s jibe.
“He’s drunk his tea and gone across to the main house.”
“We’d better get cooking, then,” Mai said, tying her hair back with her scarf.
***
A little procession set off from the kitchen: Mai and Mami leading the way, followed by Honou, Sakami, and Kenta the kitchen boy, all carrying pots of rice and vegetables, freshly picked from the kitchen gardens, fried and lightly spiced. It was the best that they could offer.
“Why are you going to serve them in your miko’s robes, Sakami?” Mami asked, gaping.
“Because…” Because I don’t want Lord Naoki to recognize me. Sakami knew there was no point in even starting to explain her reasons.
“Hurry up!” Mai called back.
“No time to change,” Sakami finished.
Lord Naoki had established himself in Princess Asagao’s audience room. As Sakami entered, shuffling on her knees, head bowed, she stole a glance around the chamber. How bare it looked; the elegant painted screens, decorated with gold lacquered panels depicting the dance of the black cranes, had all been removed.
The young lord was seated at a low table on the dais, with a stern, scar-faced older man to his right, and the arrogant young retainer on his left.
The more lowly retainers sat in the main part of the hall, patiently waiting for their lord to be served his food.
As Sakami placed the steaming bowls on the table before the Red Kites, she noticed one who looked utterly out of place among the brawny fighting men. The pallor of his hair alone would have made him stand out; the long white strands gave off a soft shimmer that reminded her of Lady Inari. But then he raised his head and stared at her. Transfixed, she tried to look away but found she could not.
Eyes, pale as milky crystal…yet the purity of each iris stained with a single drop of fiery blood.
She shuddered, suddenly sensing the presence of a distant, malign power.
You poor thing, you’ve been put under a spell. And such a horrible, insidious enchantment…
The clear aura that she had sensed at first had been tainted by a foul pollutant that was slowly gnawing away at the victim’s sanity.
“Miko-san.”
“Sakami!” Mai called her name in a piercing whisper. “My lord is talking to you.”
Sakami bowed again, mumbling an apology. But the white-haired young man gazed back kindly at her and asked, “Are you the miko of the castle shrine?”
“Yes, my lord.”
“I’m not a lord,” he said, with a self-deprecating little smile. “I’m just a healer. Lord Naoki would like to ask you some questions.”
Has he recognized me? Sakami froze, her hand outstretched as she served the food. Her hand began to tremble. I mustn’t spill any food – there’s so little to go round.
“Give that to me.” Mai took the rice pot from her and continued filling the men’s bowls.
“How can I help you, my lord?” Sakami turned to face the dais, staring at the tatami mats so that he couldn’t see her face.
“I’ve been told that there is a hot spring higher up the mountain. Do you know anything about it?”
Sakami hesitated. “Yes, my lord.” Why does he want to know about the springs?
“I should like to go and see it. Could you take us there?”
She had a sudden inspiration. “If…if I show you the way to the springs, my lord, can I make a request? The archer who shot at you – please would you consider releasing him? He’s been recovering from a poisoned arrow wound – and it’s affected his judgment.”
“No, my lord,” cried the young retainer who had come to the kitchen. “He’s a mad dog. He ought to be put down. Make an example of him.”
“We’re going to need as many workers as we can muster, Raiko,” Lord Naoki said, slowly pushing a slice of radish around his dish with his chopsticks. “But I can’t let his actions go unpunished.” He looked up at Sakami. “Are you related to the prisoner?”
“He’s my brother.” She still dared not raise her head. “And he’s a good man.”
“Let him cool his heels in the dungeon a little longer as a warning to the others. Just be grateful that Chikaaki didn’t slit his throat on the spot.”
“Thank you, my lord.” She shuffled backward on her knees, keeping her head down.
When the Kites had finished their meal, Sakami found herself the last servant to leave the main house. Carrying the heavy iron rice pot, she made her way slowly back through the warm dusk, still worrying about what would become of her brother.
Lord Naoki didn’t say he wouldn’t show mercy to Shun, only that he wanted to make an example of him. Which means. . .
But as she turned the corner from the main courtyard, someone grabbed her from behind, slapping a hand across her mouth to muffle her scream. The empty pot fell to the ground with a dull clang.
“Don’t make a sound, Sakami,” a hoarse voice whispered in her ear. “Just come quietly and you won’t be harmed.”
***
All Sakami’s vixen instincts awoke the instant the hand clamped over her mouth.
Bite him! Bite him – and make a run for it!
She forced herself not to react until she discovered exactly what was going on.
If I transform right now, I’ll get away – but I’ll also have far too much explaining to do.
Her captor dragged her through the gloom into the kitchen. As he removed his hand from her mouth, she saw that a little group of the castle servants had gathered in front of the dying embers of the fire: Mai and Mami to the fore.
“What is this about?” Furious, bristling, Sakami turned around and recognized Hiroki, an archer like Shun, one of the walking wounded who had survived the siege with a shuriken scar from left eye to chin for his pains. “Don’t ever do that to me again, Hiroki!”
“We have some questions for you, Sakami,” said Mai, arms crossed. “Why are you collaborating with the Kites?”
“Is your memory so short?” Hiroki said. “Or have you forgotten who gave Shun that wound and killed Commander Iekane?”
“And sent our princess into exile?” added Teiko-san, the clan doctor’s daughter.
Everywhere Sakami looked, she saw hostile, mistrustful eyes staring at her. And she felt deeply hurt that they should suspect her of being disloyal to the clan. “I’m not a collaborator,” she said slowly, choosing her words with care.
“You bargained with them.” Mai was staring resentfully at her. “I was the
re. I heard you.” Beside her, Mami was nodding vigorously.
Sakami sighed. “Yes. I suppose you would see it that way. But all that Lord Naoki asked of me was to show him the way to the hot springs.”
“You’re betraying a clan secret?” cried Teiko-san in affronted tones.
They’re not going to listen to me. Sakami tried to control the rising feeling of panic. What can I say to convince them? “I’m doing it to save Shun’s life. And it’s not so secret anymore. When Lord Kaito and I came back from the Tide Dragon monastery, we saw two yamabushi up there.”
“Are you sure you haven’t been ‘turned’ by our new masters, Sakami?” Hiroki said.
She turned on him. “I thought Shun was your friend,” she said and saw him look away, unable to sustain her gaze. “And as for you, Mai, what would you do if Mami was wasting away in the dungeons?” Mai glanced at her twin sister. “Wouldn’t you do anything you could to get her released?”
“Of course you would, wouldn’t you, Mai?” said a nonchalant voice from the back of the kitchen. Honou appeared, licking his lips and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand; he must have been finishing off the leftovers from the Kites’ meal. “What’s the harm of showing the Red Kites a nice hot, steamy pool?”
“We’ll be watching you,” Teiko-san said. “Every step of the way.”
Chapter 12
Ayaka, seated demurely on the empress’s chair beside the Phoenix Throne, with her mother and ladies-in-waiting ranged behind her, surveyed the ministers and nobles who had gathered in the great hall of the palace; even the senior officials of the Bureau of Divination were there.
I wonder if they’re commenting on my new robes. . .these gold and purple layered silks are the very latest style. But her elaborate headdress was heavy and every time she moved her head, even a little, the wires securing it in place dug into her temples.
“Such a distinguished gathering,” she heard her mother say to elderly Princess Kumoi, enunciating each syllable with exaggerated care. “I wonder why the emperor has summoned us.”
Hotaru entered the hall and all the dignitaries bowed low as he made his way to the Phoenix Throne before turning to address them.
“I’ve called you all here today because I’ve decided that the time has come to change the way we honor our ancient bond with the gods of the sea.”
A forest of tall black lacquered hats of office bobbed and swayed, as if blown by a little gale, as all the ministers and their secretaries turned to exchange confused glances.
“Why? I hear you asking. Because we cannot risk another flood. There is no doubt that my brother Suzaku angered the Tide Dragons at the recent Festival and Flood, in his fury, almost drowned all the pilgrims on the shore. Many ships were badly damaged along the coast, including several vessels of the imperial fleet. So even though the festival will go ahead as usual, we will honor the Tide Dragons but not disturb or offend them by forcing them to come at our summons.”
Stunned silence greeted his announcement. Ayaka realized that her mouth had dropped open and swiftly closed it, hoping no one had noticed.
“Forgive me, imperial majesty, I am a little deaf, but did I hear aright?”
Heads turned to stare at the speaker and Ayaka recognized Lord Kiyomori, the Minister of the Left and her father’s political rival.
“Are you proposing that we abandon the ceremony of the Tide Jewels?”
“I am,” Hotaru said.
“But to break the ancient traditions that have sustained our society since the time of the First Empress – it’s unthinkable!”
Ayaka had not been expecting to hear Lord Kiyomori speak out so forthrightly to her husband; the Minister of the Left’s face had turned a choleric red beneath his eboshi hat.
“It’s also heretical,” chimed in Archbishop Gakudo. “Frankly, I’m surprised, imperial majesty, that you would even think of such a thing, let alone put it into practice.”
“Besides, what would the people say?” added Lord Kiyomori. “Your subjects. Your loyal subjects.”
Hotaru leaned forward from the gilded magnificence of the Phoenix Throne, pointing the tip of his folded fan at Lord Kiyomori. “Why there, Minister, you have a point. My officers tell me that after Flood’s wild and unpredictable behavior at the last festival, it’s being said in the streets of the capital that it’s become too dangerous to summon the Tide Dragons.”
Lord Kiyomori began to splutter and had to take a swift sip from a bowl of cold tea which his servant handed to him before he could continue. “B-but surely that’s the point. Isn’t it?” He gazed around at the other ministers in his department, looking for support; Ayaka noticed that they all kept their eyes discreetly lowered. “The Tide Dragons are dangerous – yet they made a pact with the imperial house of Cipangu to protect us. And it is your responsibility, majesty, to demonstrate your imperial authority and ensure that Flood and Ebb don’t go on the rampage again.”
Surely Lord Kiyomori had gone too far this time. Ayaka was shocked that the minister should openly dare to tell the emperor what he should or should not do. She turned her head to look at Hotaru – and saw, to her surprise, that he was smiling; one of his most mild and modest smiles.
“You are right, my lord,” he said. “My inexperience may well have been to blame. It was, after all, the first time that I’d ever attempted to summon the Tide Dragons.”
“And maybe it was a mere fluke and they will never come at your call again,” Lord Kiyomori said, provoking an audible intake of breath from all the courtiers of the Right.
Ayaka felt an almost unbearable urge to rise up and challenge the Minister of the Left but she had been told by Lady Saisho that she must not say a word, she must merely observe. So she was obliged to glare at the old man while all manner of furious comments raged in her head.
“You don’t for one moment intend to imply, Lord Kiyomori, that I am in any way lacking in the attributes necessary to fulfill my role as emperor?”
“Certainly not, majesty.” To Ayaka’s satisfaction, the Minister of the Left looked discomfited.
“Because what I am about to propose is that, instead of relying on the Lords of the Sea, we arm our troops with the latest weaponry. Lord Toshiro of the Red Kites – would you be so good as to explain to our ministers your armorers’ latest invention?”
“With pleasure, majesty.”
As the ministers turned around, hats bobbing animatedly again as they exchanged whispered comments. Ayaka craned her neck to see the once-infamous Lord Toshiro, so recently pardoned by Hotaru – and, as she did so, became aware that even Lady Saisho had turned her elegantly coiffed head to look.
Lord Toshiro, dressed in robes of black silk embroidered with the badge of his clan in blood-bright scarlet, came forward from the back of the audience hall. He walked with the brisk stride of a warrior, unaccustomed to wearing court ceremonial dress.
With those sharp-honed features he looks as dangerous as a bird of prey. Ayaka found herself thinking. I wouldn’t like to have him as my enemy.
“My late father sent one of our armorers abroad to learn his trade,” said Lord Toshiro. “Master Kinkiyo served his apprenticeship in Xiang and then Khoryeo.”
More muttering greeted this statement from the officials of the Ministry of the Left although Ayaka noticed her father and his colleagues on the other side of the hall nodding approvingly.
“Kinkiyo returned to us an expert in the secret art of making of black powder which some of you may know by the older name of ‘fire drug.’ This is used to fire projectiles through specially-cast metal tubes which are called iron dragons. After much experimentation, I can report that the iron dragons are extremely effective in any defensive or offensive situation.”
“Am I understand, Lord Toshiro, that you’re referring to your clan’s recent assault on Castle Kurozuro?” asked Lord Kiyomori snidely.
“The attack that I was forced to launch after the Black Cranes kidnapped my son Naoki.” The look that Lor
d Toshiro directed toward the Minister of the Left would have shriveled a lesser man – but Ayaka knew from hearing her father’s frequent rantings to her mother in the privacy of their home that Lord Kiyomori was a seasoned politician and not easily deterred in a debate.
“So if we were to arm the troops with these iron dragons, these new weapons would prove to be a more effective defense against any invasion than risking another tidal wave?” Ayaka recognized Lord Nakakuni, newly promoted by Hotaru from captain to the rank of general of the imperial guard.
“I believe so; yes,” Lord Toshiro began, “and if we –”
“But you just said that Xiang and Khoryeo already have iron dragons of their own!” interrupted Lord Kiyomori.
“That is true,” said Lord Toshiro, fixing him with a forbidding glare. “But we have discovered a particularly rich source of the materials that go to make up fire drug, resulting in a very powerful charge.”
As the argument continued, Ayaka realized that her neck was beginning to ache with the strain of sitting upright, wearing the heavy ornamental headdress. I’m so bored. Why won’t they listen to Hotaru? Lord Kiyomori just argues for the sake of arguing – or he enjoys the sound of his own voice.
“So you are proposing, imperial majesty, that we reject the divine protection that has kept our nation safe since the First Empress’s day – in favor of these iron dragons?”
“I am merely suggesting that we keep abreast of our neighbors in weaponry to defend Cipangu.”
“Surely your imperial majesty cannot object to making another definitive demonstration of your right to rule? So few of your subjects witnessed what happened at the beach that some disloyal tongues are whispering that it was nothing but a sham.”
The whispering ceased and a shocked silence filled the hall. A sham. Ayaka had the feeling that everyone present, from the imperial guard to the lowliest courtier, was holding their breath. What an outrageous thing to suggest. She looked anxiously at her husband, wondering how he would react.
“You’re asking me to summon the Tide Dragons again, before the year is up?” Hotaru stared coolly back at the Minister of the Left. “No emperor or empress has ever attempted it.”