by Sarah Ash
“K-Kai? It’s mother. She still won’t w-wake up.”
As Takeru struggled to get the words out, Kai heard the desperation in his voice and felt his own courage begin to falter. He caught the muffled sound of sobbing; Umeko was gently wiping her mistress’s face with rags torn from her clothing.
Kai put his hand on Takeru’s shoulder in silent sympathy. “This is Master Seishi, the healer from the monastery.”
“Let me take a look at the princess,” said Master Seishi, kneeling down.
“We’ve brought supplies,” Garyo called out. “Food, drink, blankets. . .” As the warrior monks handed out provisions to the dazed Black Kites, Kai hovered anxiously behind Master Seishi, closely observing everything he did. His mother lay so still, her face utterly devoid of expression, that he feared that she already was too far away to be brought back, even by one as skilled as Master Seishi.
“She has a pulse – but it’s slow and faint,” the healer said. “And there’s a contusion on her the side of her skull; did she hit her head?”
“A falling beam – when the roof caved in,” said Susumu. “My brother saved her but then he – he –”
Kai turned, hearing Susumu choke on the words. “Oh no. Susu – is Isamu – ?”
Susumu, one hand clutched to his mouth, as if trying to hold in his grief, pointed to the further corner of the flat ground. Kai looked and saw a body lying there, reverently covered with a blanket.
“Isamu saved our mother?” Kai turned to his squire. Susumu nodded, turning his face away; Kai saw his shoulders heaving with the strain of trying not to cry.
“Your brother – always so brave and resourceful,” he said, hearing his own voice tremble.
“I tried to drag him to safety, but. . .he was gone. . .before I could. . .” A gulping sob escaped. Kai put his arm round his shoulders and hugged him to him.
“We owe Isamu so much. He –” The words would not come out as he wanted. He glanced sideways at Takeru whose attention seemed to be concentrated on the princess, wondering how his brother must be feeling, having lost his faithful retainer, protector and boyhood friend.
“You should get something to eat,” Kai said quietly to Susumu.
Susumu shook his head. “I – I couldn’t –”
“You need to build up your strength. My brother will be relying on you now as his chief retainer.”
“Me?” Susumu’s eyes widened and then he nodded, gulping back another sob.
Kai wanted to find some way to comfort him but he could feel the Sacrifice seal pulsing on his shoulder, each throb more intense than the last.
“Seishi-sensei,” he said in quiet desperation, “I have to go. I wanted to help you – but I’ve been no use at all.”
“Don’t worry.” Master Seishi looked up. “We’ll take the princess back to the monastery infirmary. The emperor need never know.”
His words, delivered in such a calm and matter-of-fact manner, resonated through Kai’s memory as he dashed back toward the shore.
There’s still a chance she’ll recover if she’s under Master Seishi’s care. But what will become of the clan if she doesn’t?
Chapter 41
“I’m sorry to be the bearer of bad news,” Beniko said, putting down her basket of fresh vegetables, “but they’re saying in the market that there’s been a fire on Akatobi Island.”
“A fire?” Sakami looked up from the game of spinning tops she was playing with Ren and Honou. “Is everyone safe?” It wasn’t just the princess and Lord Takeru she was thinking of, but Yuna and Rikyu and the other retainers who had gone into exile to protect the main family.
“No one knows. But there’s a rumor going round the city. They’re saying that the Tide Dragons came to put out the flames. And who else could have called them. . .but the ex-emperor himself?”
Kai went to the rescue. “But that’s so like Kai,” she heard herself saying, smiling affectionately. And then her smile faded as she remembered Inari’s last blunt warning. “Every time you call on Shiomitsu’s powers, a little more of your mortal life force gets used up.”
How much more of his life force had Kai expended in rescuing the Black Cranes – and how much was still left?
So long since I last saw Kai. If only I could go to him now to help at the island. . .
She went to stand up and the room seemed to tilt and waver around her. She heard Beniko call out her name. . . And the next thing she knew, she was lying on the mats with Beniko dabbing her forehead with a wet cloth impregnated with wild mint.
“What happened?”
“Sakami fall over,” said Ren dramatically, demonstrating. “Bang.” He rolled over on to his back and kicked his little feet in the air.
“I’m sure I didn’t do that.” She tried to sit up but Honou caught her as the room began to spin again.
“I should have broken the news more gently,” Beniko said, mortified. “I was forgetting that you have friends on the island. It must have been a shock.”
“Is all well, Beniko-san?” Yūgiri appeared in the open doorway, the sunlight lighting an aura in his pale hair. To Sakami’s dazed eyes, he looked more like a celestial spirit than a man of flesh and blood. Ren rushed up to him and tugged at his clothes.
“Yū play spinning tops with Ren?” he said, beaming hopefully up at him.
“Later,” Yūgiri said, patting his head, and he knelt down beside Sakami. She tried to focus on his face as he laid one hand on her forehead.
“Did you hear about the fire on Akatobi Island?” she asked him, hearing her own voice coming as if from a long way off.
“Yes,” he said, his expression grave. “But you mustn’t expend needless energy worrying about it. I know you’re concerned about your clansmen – but you really must save your strength if you want to complete your mission.”
She closed her eyes a moment and felt warmth seeping into her from the gentle pressure of his hand. So this is what it feels like to be healed by one of the Hisui shamans.
“What are you doing to her?” demanded Honou suspiciously. “And what’s that white light?”
“I’m just lending her a little of my own healing energy,” she heard Yūgiri say.
“Is there anything I can do?” Beniko asked.
“Tea,” said Sakami, rallying a little. “I’d love some tea.” She sat up, aided by Honou, feeling less dizzy now. “Thank you, Yūgiri-san.” But she saw from the shadowed look in his eyes that he was not deceived by her swift recovery.
“Is there much more to be done to the sacred sword?” he asked, sitting back on his heels.
“Kinkiyo’s still finishing the hilt,” she said. “It’s delicate and fiddly work, binding it with strips of silk to make it easy to grip. Why do you ask?”
“You know very well why,” he said sternly. “You’ve been here long enough. You and Honou need to go back to Sakuranbo as soon as possible. Before it’s too late.”
His expression was so earnest and serious that she felt suddenly guilty for making him worry. She put her hand on his and said, “I’m sorry. I was forgetting how much this mission means to you too. Honou and I will do everything we can to return the sacred sword to Lady Inari. And then we can only pray that she fulfills her promise and sets Kai and Lord Masao free.”
He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it. “You’re a remarkable young woman, dear Miko.”
“Oh do stop flirting, you two,” said Honou in irritated tones, setting a pair of tops spinning at once. Ren let out a delighted shriek and grabbed at them, falling into Sakami’s lap just as Beniko came over with bowls of tea.
“Ren – whatever are you doing?”
Sakami threw back her head and laughed aloud, as Ren giggled in her lap. She looked round at the people gathered around her and wanted to hug them all. I shan’t mind that I can’t bear my own children; I have all these friends to love and protect.
Chapter 42
“So why hasn’t his imperial majesty returned?”
Who’s talking about the emperor? Ayaka slowly came back to consciousness to find herself lying in semi-darkness with a single lamp burning beside her.
“If the empress really is pregnant, surely he’d have rushed back to be at her side by now. . .”
The hushed voices were coming from the next room but she thought she recognized Ochiba’s brittle tones.
Why must she keep insisting that I’m with child?
“He was seen going into Lady Saisho’s rooms again this evening.”
Ayaka blinked, fully awake by now; she sat up
“Are you sure, Lady Hakase?” Lady Miruko’s breathy, childlike voice that all the men found so attractive was easy to identify.
“My mother was on her way to pay Lady Saisho a visit but when she spotted his majesty’s bodyguards lurking outside, she thought it politic to retreat.”
The dividing screens had been left half-open, presumably so that the ladies could keep watch on her from the anteroom.
“My mother says that Lady Saisho is still ambitious for their son,” continued Lady Hakase. Ayaka could see them all sitting around the little table, drinking tea.
“But an illegitimate child can never succeed to the Phoenix Throne.”
“Have you noticed? The older he gets, the more Kobai resembles his majesty; my mother says he was also a very handsome, studious boy at thirteen. A pity about his weak sight; the doctors said his eyes were affected by the illness he suffered when he was nine –”
“Kobai?” Ayaka was so shocked that she forgot she was not supposed to be eavesdropping. “Kobai is Hotaru’s son?”
The ladies all looked round, their painted faces twisted into expressions of horror.
“Majesty, we’re so sorry,” Lady Miruko found her voice first. “We didn’t mean to – we didn’t realize – we thought you knew.”
“Well, I didn’t,” Ayaka heard herself declare defensively. Her mind was frozen with shock. How come I’m the only one not to know? Not even to notice the likeness? “Why didn’t anyone tell me?” she heard herself asking stupidly.
“Lady Saisho was married to the Minister of the Household at the time of the affair and he was three times her age; he’s dead now, but everyone knew the old man was incapable of fathering a child,” declared Lady Hakase authoritatively. “But you have no need to worry about his claim to the throne. Your child will take precedence now.”
***
Ayaka paced the confines of her rooms. She was very angry, but as much with herself as with Hotaru. So angry that she felt as if her head might burst with pent-up feelings.
He never told me about Kobai.
No one at court seemed to think it unusual for the emperor to keep a mistress or two. And it was true that Lady Ukifune, in the latest episode of her notorious and scandalous Pillow Book, hinted that she was entertaining a highborn prince.
“But that’s just fiction,” she muttered to herself. “Even if it’s based on real life, there’s no way that any single woman could have so many lovers without there being consequences.”
Now she could think of nothing but the little ways in which Kobai resembled his father and mother: the proud way he held his head was so like Saisho. . .but his eyes were Hotaru’s. And the more she thought about it, the more it rankled.
“What should I do? Confront Hotaru and demand that he choose between me and Saisho?”
She plumped down on the cushions.
But that’s not a very mature way to behave.
She made her hand into a fist and punched one of the cushions.
Yet if I have to stay here much longer, may the gods help me, I could well do something that I regret – and that would be the end of my luxurious life at court.
***
“I’m stifling in the palace.”
Another interminable day had dragged past, filled with tedious court rituals. The emperor was, the officials informed Ayaka, closeted with his ministers to hear the yearly submission of reports on “Land Unfit for Agriculture” and she was at the end of her tether.
“I can’t go anywhere, I can’t do anything for myself, if I stay confined in here another day, I shall go insane!”
“Please don’t raise your voice, majesty,” Ochiba said. “The imperial guard may think that you’re being attacked and rush in to defend you. Then I will have to explain and apologize for the misunderstanding –”
“But there are some very good-looking young men among the imperial guard,” Ayaka said, hoping to provoke a reaction from Ochiba. “Anything would be more diverting than sitting here drinking tea all evening and playing go.” She slipped her arm conspiratorially around little Lady Miruko’s shoulders. “And I have reason to believe that you, Lady Miruko, received a poem from a certain handsome lieutenant yesterday.”
Miruko gave a delighted squeal and covered her face in her hands, feigning embarrassment. “How did you know, majesty?”
Ochiba shot her a disapproving look but did not rise to the bait.
How can I tell them the real reason I want to get away from the palace? I’m tired of living out the role of the neglected wife. Hotaru hasn’t been to see me for so many days now that I’ve lost count. We’ve nodded at each other like polite strangers at official events. People must have started to notice.
What have I done to displease him?
She flopped down on a pile of cushions. “I’m so bored, I could die. I’m like a bird in a cage; I need to flap my wings and fly free again.”
“That’s such a poignant conceit, majesty; you should write it down and make it into a poem,” said Lady Miruko, her eyes gleaming with admiration.
“How many days until the Autumn Moon festival?” Ayaka asked, listlessly turning over the scrolls of edifying reading material sent by her mother. She heard Ochiba stifle a sigh before she answered, “Six days.” It was the fourth or fifth time Ayaka had asked that afternoon.
Ayaka’s fingers slipped and one of her mother’s improving texts fell off the low table on to the floor. Reika darted over and deftly retrieved it before it had unrolled, handing it back to Ayaka without a word – but a significant look of disapproval. Am I behaving so very badly? Ayaka glanced down at the retrieved scroll and saw that it was “A Lady’s Spiritual Voyage to the Western Shrines.”
“If only I could go on a pilgrimage, like Lady Sarashina,” she said. “I’m sure it would be an improving experience and good for the soul. Even if it were just to the Tide Dragon Monastery. . . I could walk along the seashore there and pay my respects to the lords of the tides.” Even as she spoke, she was overwhelmed by a sudden longing to return to the place that still haunted her dreams.
“Perhaps your majesty could set out before the rest of the court,” said Ochiba unexpectedly. “The roads are always so busy at festival time. If a suitable escort could be provided by the imperial guard, I’m sure the emperor would give his consent.”
Ayaka stared at her, at a loss for words for once. “Y-you really think so?”
“Ex-empress Yasuko went early one year to pray at the temple. And the following year, Crown Prince Norihira was born.”
Ayaka bit her lip to stop herself from exploding. Everyone’s still expecting me to produce an heir. Well, if it means I can escape from court for a few blissful days, then they can think what they like!
“Would your majesty like me to make the appropriate arrangements?” Ochiba asked.
“Yes,” said Ayaka without hesitating.
***
The last time Ayaka had travelled to the Tide Dragon monastery, she had jogged along in the Nagamoto family carriage and camped in a tent outside the compound with the other courtiers. She had been free to go wherever she pleased (with Reika as bodyguard) inside the temple grounds. But now, as empress and first consort, she had to travel with a sizable escort of imperial guards and even her attempts to push back the blind to look outside were instantly stopped by Ochiba.
“It would not do to let the common people stare at the empress.”
This is even more tedious than being in the palace. Ayaka sat back, closing her eyes, enduring the bumping of the carriage wheels over the ruts in the road and longed for a scent of the sea.
***
“We hope your imperial majesty will be comfortable in the guest wing,” said Abbot Genko, bowing low as he greeted the imperial party. “My private garden, which overlooks the bay, is at your disposal, if you wish to take the air without being observed.”
“Thank you, dear Abbot; I can’t wait to see your garden again.” Ayaka could smell brine on the brisk breeze gusting off the sea and sniffed appreciatively; she already felt invigorated and eager to take a walk, although when she glanced at her ladies-in-waiting, they were all shivering, eyes downcast, and looking distinctly unenthusiastic.
“You must all be tired after your journey. I’ve arranged for you to be served a meal in your private rooms. Tomorrow, if it interests you, it will be my pleasure to show you the new Tide Dragon temple which his imperial majesty the emperor has so generously funded.”
When I left here after the Tide Festival, I was so happy I could hardly eat or sleep for excitement. I was so smitten with Hotaru, I could think of nothing or no one else. How could I have been so naive?
Ayaka’s ladies soon fell asleep that evening, tired out by the fresh sea air and the rigors of the journey. But Ayaka lay awake, listening to their soft, regular breathing and trying to come to terms with the reality of her situation. Lady Ukifune had written in her Pillow Book of crying herself to sleep over the infidelities of her fickle royal lover and now here she was, her own pillow damp with tears, wondering how to face the next day with confidence.