by Sarah Ash
“Is that a storm above Sakuranbo?” Naoki shaded his eyes to gaze upward. “I can see lightning.”
“That must be Kurika,” Masao said. Little bolts of bluish energy lit up the darkness; the air felt charged, setting his nerves on edge. “He’s doing all he can to stop anyone getting near. We need to move faster – or we’ll be too late.”
“The Kite Shadow,” Naoki said.
Masao shook his head. “I lost the Kite Shadow when I became Ebb’s Sacrifice. And now – just when I need it – I don’t even have Ebb’s support.” The irony of his situation was doubly galling.
“So Ebb rejected you.” Naoki drove his heels into his mount’s flanks. “Just as he did with me?”
“But not for the same reasons,” Masao cried after him, urging his horse to follow. “You don’t have to come, Naoki. I have to see this through. But not you.”
“I involved you in this from the start.” Naoki’s words carried back to him above the dinning of the horses’ hooves on the road. “I’m not going to let you face Kurika alone this time.”
Was Naoki offering him some kind of apology for all that he had put him through? Masao would have given his life for his young lord several times over but he had never expected to receive any recognition of his devotion.
Perhaps bearing the responsibility for Castle Kurozuro and its inhabitants – or Yūgiri’s influence – had made Naoki become less self-centered and more compassionate. Whatever had brought about this change, Masao was touched to hear his words, even as they rode on into the eye of the storm.
Chapter 60
Incense sticks burned in the little room set aside for the monastery dead, filling the air with their bittersweet fragrance. Kai crept in to kneel beside Umeko before his mother’s body which had been reverently wrapped in the white kimono worn by the dead. Umeko must have washed her mistress and arranged her hair, then painted her face for the last time. Princess Asagao looked like a doll; tiny and fragile, the fierce, cold, indomitable mother he had known utterly absent.
Umeko bowed to him, holding up her sleeve to cover her red, swollen eyes.
“You’ve done just what she would have wished, Umeko,” Kai said, hearing a catch in his own voice.
“The abbot has been so good to us,” Umeko said, her eyes filling up with tears again. “He’s risking so much in letting us stay. He’s going to hold the funeral tomorrow at dawn before the emperor and court arrive.”
“Dawn.” Kai hung his head, knowing that he would be unable to attend.
Umeko appeared not to notice. “But my lady’s ashes should be taken back to Kurozuro to be placed in the family grave. Who’s going to allow us to perform that final rite? I hate to think that she should have to be left here, so far from home.”
“Don’t worry, Umeko,” Kai said, patting her hand. “I’ll find a way.” But even as he made the promise, he realized how difficult it would be to fulfill. The circumstances of his mother’s death, the clan’s disgrace and exile, all would mitigate against any pleas for compassion. And he wondered how long he could keep vigil undiscovered as yet more court officials arrived to make ready for the Autumn Moon Festival.
The drifting, distinctive scent of the funeral incense brought back memories of his father’s wake. He had knelt beside Takeru, at the head of the clan, trying not to sob aloud, the tears silently dripping down his face. In the end he had sniffed, breaking the respectful silence, and his mother had turned to glower at him. But Takeru’s hand had slid out and taken his, squeezing it reassuringly.
If only Takeru could be here now. . .
The blue wisps of incense smoke flickered suddenly. Kai sensed someone was behind him and, spun round, fearing that he had been found out.
His brother stood in the doorway.
“Takeru?” Kai rose and went to him, gripping him by the arms, wanting to make sure he was flesh and blood, not a hallucination conjured by his own wishes.
“The same, little brother.” Takeru returned the hug. “Garyo came by boat to tell us the sad news. He brought me back and smuggled me in here by the Sacrifice cave.”
He went over to the princess’s bier and knelt down awkwardly; his injury must still be troubling him. “Mother,” he said and his voice broke. “Mother, I’m so sorry. We failed to protect you. But I swear that I will restore the family’s honor and good name. And your d-death will not go unavenged.”
Kai listened to his brother’s words and wondered bleakly how Takeru could possibly hope to make good his vow.
“But the festival is tomorrow,” he said quietly. “Hotaru is still planning to bind Masao and me – and force the Tide Dragons to appear at the ceremony. And if he succeeds, his claim to the throne will be validated. . .and we’ll be in thrall to him forever.”
“But we don’t need to bind you, do we?” Takeru turned to him. “If we time things right – by the high tide – we can turn the tables on Hotaru.”
“Meaning?” Kai wondered if Takeru’s mind was still addled from the old head injury.
“Come with me.” Takeru rose, bowed low to their mother’s bier and, putting his arm round Kai’s shoulders, steered him outside into the darkness.
The autumn moon, half-hidden behind fast-moving clouds, illuminated the jagged outlines of the ornamental trees in the abbot’s garden.
“You’ve been working alone on our behalf for far too long, Kai.” Takeru removed his arm from around Kai’s shoulders . He put his fingers to his lips and gave three low whistles. “Now you’re not on your own anymore.”
One by one Black Crane clan retainers silently appeared from the shadows, each one armed with a bow, an axe, or a naginata. Rikyu came forward, grinning in greeting, loyal Susumu close behind him, his eyes brimming in the moonlight.
“Susu.” Kai was so glad to see him that he forgot all propriety and hugged him. “But how did you get past the imperial guards?”
“Captain Garyo brought us by the secret cave,” Takeru said. “At high tide it’s easy to slip in unseen.”
“And how did you arm yourselves?”
“Admiral Higekuro confiscated all our weapons when we were sent into exile. But Rikyu managed to smuggle arrow heads and bow strings on to the island. And Yuna refused to be parted from her cooking knives.”
“So you haven’t been idle, Rikyu?”
Rikyu pointed to the bows that he and his archers had fashioned for themselves. “One thing we’re not lacking for on the island is wood and bamboo; it took a while, but we stripped and seasoned willow and alder.”
“It’s amazing how a few essential gardening tools – hoes, spades, mattocks – can be converted into serviceable weapons,” said Susumu with a grim little smile. Kai couldn’t help but notice a harder, more resolute look in Susumu’s eyes since his brother’s death in the fire.
“I – I’m sorry, Kai, that we couldn’t tell you till now.” Takeru put one hand on Kai’s shoulder, so that Kai had to look up into his brother’s face, seeing the same determined look there as in Susumu’s. “We couldn’t risk being overheard by Hotaru’s spies again.”
Kai nodded. His heart was racing; pride in his clansmen’s resilience and resourcefulness, mingling with desperate fear for their lives. The imperial guards outnumbered his clansmen by three to one. And more would arrive next day, escorting the emperor.
“I couldn’t quite believe that you’d all become such keen gardeners, like his eminence,” he said.
“Oh, his eminence has helped as well; he’s become very skilled at making bamboo arrows.”
“But Kurika’s attack –”
“Tachibana made us store all the weapons far away from the compound in case Hotaru sent his men to search the living quarters. Just as well, in the circumstances.”
“But how can you hope to defeat the imperial guards? They’re honor-bound to defend the emperor – to the death. We’re just criminals and traitors to them.”
“You’re not alone,” said a familiar voice and, turning, Kai saw Garyo appro
aching, his white robes glimmering in the darkness.
“You’re with us, Garyo?”
“All the warrior monks are with you, Kaishin. It’s what Kakumyo would have wished. We will fight for his clan to honor his memory.”
Kai wanted to blurt out thanks but his throat had tightened with emotion
“So we’re relying on you, Kaito, and Lord Flood to provide a spectacular distraction.”
The quietly cultured voice made Kai spin around. Suzaku had appeared behind Garyo.
“M-majesty?”
“The success of our plan depends on you,” Suzaku said, smiling at him. “And I have every confidence in you, Kaito.”
“I’ll do all I can to persuade Flood to lend you his support.” So it had come to this; Suzaku was prepared to risk everything to challenge his brother’s right to rule.
“But if you challenge Hotaru, he’ll summon his shikigami to protect him: Kurika.”
The smile vanished from Suzaku’s face. “If my brother dares to summon Kurika in front of the court and his ministers, he’ll reveal himself for what he truly is: the one who instigated the destruction on Akatobi Island.”
“We’ll stay out of sight in the Sacrifice cave,” said Takeru, “until his eminence makes his move. Then we’ll be ready to protect and defend you, majesty, in case the imperial guards launch an attack.”
“And we’ll be there to lend our support,” said Garyo. “I give you my word.” He held out his hand to Takeru and Takeru grasped it firmly to seal the contract. Then they turned to Kai and Takeru said, “Now it’s all down to you, little brother.”
Chapter 61
The smoke from Princess Asagao’s funeral pyre rose into the dawn sky, blue-gray tendrils dark against the pale sunrise. The tide had turned so Kai could only watch from the bay, knowing that, in the unfinished temple, Abbot Genko and the monks were intoning the prayers of the soul of the dead. The knowledge that Garyo had smuggled Takeru inside the temple, disguised as a warrior monk, comforted him a little as Umeko would not be mourning her mistress alone.
And now all he had to do was to wait for the agreed signal to come to Suzaku’s call.
As long as Hotaru didn’t make the first move and cast a summoning spell, using Lord Kaoru’s ebony flute.
From far out in the bay he could just make out people assembling on the shore beginning to make preparations for the festival. From the bright colors of their clothes, some of them must be imperial courtiers, taking a morning stroll along the beach.
The waiting was almost too hard to endure.
***
Ayaka awoke to the sound of voices in the courtyard. From the loud, harried tone of the exchange she could tell that something was amiss; the monastery was usually quiet at this early hour.
“What’s all the fuss about?” she said, yawning. “Reika, go and see what’s happened.”
Reika, already dressed and alert, hurried away. The other ladies-in-waiting, roused by the commotion outside, came in to help Ayaka dress, all the while exchanging anxious glances. Even Lady Miruko was subdued, hardly saying a word.
Reika reappeared. “A messenger has arrived bringing news from your father, majesty. He humbly requests an audience.”
Ayaka knew instantly from Reika’s guarded expression that something most definitely was amiss.
“I’ll receive him in the entrance hall,” she said, stretching her arms wide so that Lady Miruko and Lady Hakase could slip on the embroidered outer gown as Ochiba fussed over her coiffure. “There’s no time to arrange my hair now,” she told Ochiba, already fretting to know what was in this urgent message that the bearer must have ridden through the night to deliver.
“But you’re empress,” said Ochiba. “Make the messenger wait until you’re ready.”
Ayaka snatched a bronze mirror and took a swift glance. “I hope my family are well,” she said, trying to keep her voice steady as all manner of dire possibilities flashed through her mind. Reika went on ahead and the ladies shuffled dutifully after her.
No sooner had Ayaka entered the hall than she spotted the messenger, a young man in dusty Nagamoto livery, who dropped to his knees before her and presented her with a folded paper. Ayaka broke the seal and moved to where the dull light was strongest to read it:
“Further to my letter of yesterday, the situation here in the capital has become unstable. Last night the emperor vanished from his apartments. Lady Saisho was found insensible in the emperor’s rooms and has not yet regained consciousness. There were some signs of a struggle – and warm ashes as if some papers or artifacts had been recently been burned. Not long afterward, a whirlwind blew across the city, causing considerable damage to many buildings. Many are saying it was an evil omen or a sign of heavenly disapproval and that the ex-emperor Suzaku should never have been deposed.”
“Hotaru gone?” Ayaka whispered and then realized that her ladies had heard what she said and were staring at her in alarm. She looked down hastily, to read the final paragraph:
“No faction has yet claimed to have abducted the emperor and no ransom demand has been received. The only people to be granted access last night to the emperor’s rooms were his retainers and Lady Saisho, although Lord Naoki of the Red Kites was given a private audience earlier in the day. In the circumstances, keeping order in the capital is my first priority and I have ordered a curfew to be enforced.
“I have written to Abbot Genko informing him that the Autumn Moon Festival cannot now take place as planned. I am also concerned for your safety, as if dissidents have struck at his imperial majesty, they may well attack you next. To that end, I have dispatched a troop of our most trusted Nagamoto retainers to escort you back to our house until the situation is clarified.”
Ayaka looked up from the letter to see that all her ladies were watching her expectantly. Everything that Kai had told her about Hotaru had flashed back into her mind; he had certainly made plenty of enemies. Did Lady Saisho have a jealous secret lover who had taken his revenge on the two? Although the mention of ashes and a whirlwind sounded horribly like Kurika.
“Majesty?” Ochiba prompted her.
Ayaka did not know where to begin. “My father informs me,” she said slowly, “that his majesty the emperor has disappeared. As a consequence, the Autumn Moon Festival will not take place. And we are to return to the capital.”
“The emperor – disappeared?” repeated Ochiba in tones of disbelief. “This must be some kind of stupid joke.”
“No, my lady,” said the messenger. His face was smeared with mud and his eyes had the slightly unfocused look of one who had not slept all night. “No one knows where he is.”
“But that’s ridiculous! Who would dare abduct the emperor? Who would seek to gain from such a crime?”
Ayaka took in a shaky breath to try to calm herself. “I will go and thank the abbot for his hospitality,” she said. “Ochiba, please organize the preparations. We must be ready to leave as soon as my clan retainers arrive. Reika, come with me.”
Ochiba’s face darkened. “Reika is your servant. She should join our maids in packing our clothes.”
Ayaka’s patience was running thin. “Reika is also my bodyguard,” she snapped. “And I’ll thank you not to order her what and what not to do.”
Of course Ochiba’s upset and insecure; her father was promoted to Admiral by Hotaru. If there’s a coup at the palace, her family will suffer too.
But just as she set foot in the courtyard, the main monastery gates were pulled open to admit a palace ox-cart surrounded by outriders whose dark green flags proclaimed the Kiyomori clan.
“Lord Kiyomori,” she said under her breath as the Minister of the Left and her father’s political rival was helped down from the cart by two of his retainers. He spotted her instantly and bowed.
Does he know what’s happened at the palace?
“Lady Ayaka,” he said. He smiled but his eyes betrayed no warmth. “Lady” not Empress. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you t
o come with me.”
Ayaka, sensing danger, said ingenuously, “Oh, but my father has already sent our retainers to take me back to the capital.”
“Your father is under house arrest. No retainers will be coming to escort you.”
“But. . . Why?” Ayaka stalled for time, wondering if she could make a run for it and if so, where could she run to. “Surely he isn’t under suspicion in the case of the emperor’s disappearance?”
“There are many questions to be answered as to Emperor’s Hotaru’s fate. But even more as to how he was able to usurp his brother’s position so easily, supported by your father and the Nagamoto clan.”
Am I under arrest? Ayaka swallowed. “Can you assure me that my ladies will be well looked after?”
Lady Miruko began to cry. Ayaka put her arm around her shoulders protectively, feeling how slight in stature she was beneath the heavy brocade and silk layers, scarcely more than a child. She glared at Lord Kiyomori, wanting to berate him for intimidating Miruko but not daring to until she understood who was in charge.
Last night on the shore, everything was so calm beneath the autumn moon. And now –
It was at that moment that voices could be heard, excited cries coming from the gate to the cliff path. Distracted, Lord Kiyomori turned away from Ayaka and said to one of his retainers, “Go and find out what the commotion is about.”
Ayaka glanced questioningly at Reika.
The retainer came back and babbled, “They’re saying that you should come at once, my lord.” He whispered something that Ayaka could not catch – but she saw Lord Kiyomori’s expression alter to one of genuine surprise. He hurried away, followed by his retainers.
“Well!” Ayaka turned to her ladies. “Are we going to wait here – or shall we go and see what all the fuss is about?”
***
As Ayaka and her ladies descended the steep cliff path, she could not at first make out what had caused so much excitement among the courtiers. Captain Yorisada of the imperial guards was attempting to keep order as more and more of the monastery visitors came down on to the shore. His back was turned to the sea, directing operations, so Ayaka soon realized that the harassed captain had not fully understood what was the cause of the excitement.