by Sarah Ash
“I was attacked by Hotaru’s creature,” said Lady Saisho in a strangely calm and detached tone. “And Hisui-sensei healed me. If it were not for his intervention, I would not be here, drinking tea with you now.”
Yūgiri inclined his head to acknowledge the compliment she had paid him.
“And, at his request, I have also secured the release of your swordsmith, Master Kinkiyo.”
“Thank you.” Masao bowed in gratitude. “But. . .are you aware of what has become of Prince Hotaru?”
“Yes,” she said simply and put her arm around Kobai’s shoulders, drawing him to her protectively. “Lord Kiyomori broke the news to us a little while ago. And he assured us that the new regent bears us no ill will.”
Ill will? Masao did not understand. “But why –?”
“Were you there when he died?” Her question, delivered unflinchingly, caught him off-guard. He had no knowledge whatsoever of court affairs but he suddenly realized that there must have been much more than just a nodding acquaintance between Lady Saisho and Hotaru.
“I was there,” he said, struggling to find the appropriate words. “And he died bravely, trying to stop the monster he had unleashed from killing Lady Ayaka…or anyone else.”
“I see.” Her expression did not alter but he saw her fingers tighten around Kobai’s shoulder. “Your father died bravely, Kobai.” Kobai bowed his head.
Father. So Kobai was Hotaru’s illegitimate child. Masao felt as if he was intruding on a private grief and was about to make his excuses when he heard footsteps hurrying across the pebbles in the courtyard garden outside and Susumu appeared.
“Forgive me, my lady,” Susumu said breathlessly, “but Lord Masao’s presence is urgently requested in the Courtiers’ Hall.”
“Me?” Masao had not expected to be summoned, let alone officially requested to go anywhere in the palace.
“The young emperor-elect has specifically requested that you attend on him. Or rather, he asked for the man with green eyes.”
“Them I’m afraid his imperial highness will be sorely disappointed in me.” Masao said with a rueful smile. He thanked Lady Saisho for the tea and was just putting on his shoes outside when he saw that Yūgiri had followed him into the garden.
***
The last time Masao had seen little Prince Norihira had been when he led Suzaku and his family to hide from Hotaru’s guards in the remote hillside cave on Akatobi Island.
As he walked past the assembled courtiers to kneel before the new emperor-elect, he was horribly aware of their disapproving glances at his shabby, travel-stained clothes.
“Why have your eyes changed color, Lord Masao?” The little prince was perched on the magnificent Phoenix Throne, swinging his legs to and fro as his feet came nowhere near the floor. “Are you still a Tide Dragon?”
Masao cleared his throat. He could not lie. “Not any longer, imperial highness.”
“Prince Shiomitsu came to see me at the monastery,” Norihira said in a confidential tone, leaning forward. “I want to meet his brother, Prince Shiohiru too. Could you ask him?”
This was not what Masao had expected. “I can’t promise that Prince Shiohiru will agree,” he said carefully, “but I’ll do my best.”
He caught Suzaku’s eye and saw the ex-emperor nodding approvingly from behind the throne.
“In my new role as regent,” Suzaku said, “I’m appointing tutors and advisors to guide and educate the emperor-elect. And I would like to appoint you, Lord Masao, as one of the tutors for my son.”
“Me, Majesty?” Masao had not been expecting such an honor to be conferred upon him – or such a responsibility. “But I’m no scholar.”
“We have scholars standing by in plenty,” said Suzaku, smiling, “and artists, musicians, and masters of the martial arts. But you are the only one that Norihira specifically requested to be at his side.”
Masao glanced at the little prince; to his surprise, Norihira, the solemn, frightened child he remembered from the aftermath of the fire, was smiling conspiratorially at him. The smile warmed his heart, even though at that moment, he had no idea what useful lessons about life he could possibly impart to the emperor-elect.
“You do me and my clan a great honor,” he said, bowing. As he rose to his feet to leave the dais, he was astonished to hear the assembled courtiers break into applause. Red-faced, he hurried back to where Susumu, Lord Takeru and Yūgiri were standing. Susumu, beaming, whispered, “Congratulations, my lord!” and Lord Takeru nodded his approval. Last of all, Masao looked – uncertainly – at Yūgiri. To accept such a role would mean becoming one of the prince’s household and relinquishing his freedom. Masao would not be returning to Castle Akatobi – whereas Yūgiri was still bound to serve the Akatobi main house.
Yūgiri returned his questioning look unflinchingly. “You must go where your duty commands you to,” he said quietly. It was the first time that he had spoken to him directly.
Once the audience was at an end, Masao found himself following Yūgiri into the palace gardens. Stirred by a chill breeze, fiery acer leaves came spiraling down as they walked; and they were soon alone on the leaf-strewn path as the courtiers hurried indoors, seeking the warmth of braziers. Yūgiri pointed toward an ornamental garden pavilion, with little bells hanging from the roof.
Inside, it smelled of damp cedar wood and autumn leaves. Masao let out a long exhalation. It was the first time they had been alone in what had been a long and confusing day and he was exhausted. In the silence only the silvery ringing of the ornamental little bells could be heard as the breeze set them in motion.
“So you and Kai defeated Kurika?” Yūgiri said at last.
Masao looked up. “In the end, it was Sakami and Inari who sealed him inside the mountain,” he said and saw Yūgiri’s guarded expression change and soften.
“Sakami?” he repeated. “She really is a remarkable young woman.” And then, to Masao’s surprise he reached out and took his left hand in his own. He looked up into Masao’s face, his fingertips lightly touching the soft skin on the underside of his wrist where the Sacrifice seal had been etched. “It’s gone. So you and Lord Kaito are really free?”
There was so much Masao had wanted to tell Yūgiri but now that they were together at last, he found himself tongue-tied. But before he could stammer out what he was trying to say, Yūgiri suddenly leaned in close and kissed him.
“Yū?” Masao said, dazed. Yūgiri let his forehead rest against his a moment.
“Ask for me,” he said, his voice quiet but intense. “Ask Lord Toshiro to let me attend on you at court. You are, after all, his eldest surviving son – even if he still hasn’t formally acknowledged you.”
“You – you want to stay by my side?”
Yūgiri flashed him a challenging look. “If you don’t want me –”
“I’d like nothing more.” Masao was still coming to terms with this new, more forceful, self-assured side to Yūgiri. “But do you think he’ll agree?”
“You’ve restored the honor of the Red Kites,” Yūgiri said simply. “I don’t think he can refuse.”
Epilogue
The last of the winter snows had melted. Kai followed Shun, Hiroki and Rikyu up the track through the charred forest, all four carrying timber and tools. Green shoots were appearing among the cinders: the first signs of spring and new growth out of the barren earth. And thin, high bird calls echoed from branch to branch in the remaining trees. Even the air smelt fresh and clean, no longer tainted with the lingering odor of burning.
Kai had not returned to the shrine since the terrifying night of fire and earth tremors. The place still seemed blighted by the curse of Kurika’s fury and Hotaru’s death; even with the spring birdsong and the new leaves budding, he found it hard to retrace his journey as each turn in the path reawakened unpleasant memories that he had tried to bury in the depths of his mind.
But if we rebuild the Inari shrine, Sakami will return with Honou and the other kitsune and purify t
he mountain of the last traces of Kurika’s malevolence.
Even now, remembering the selfless way she had bidden him farewell brought tears to his eyes. Was it selfish to wish he could have kept her just for himself alone, rather than sharing her now with every one of her followers?
You were my first love, Sakami.
But after an hour or so, Kai realized that the construction of the new torii would not be achieved in a single day, even by four strong young men.
“You shouldn’t be working, Lord Kaito,” Hiroki said; he still seemed awed by Kai’s presence. “You should leave the hard labor to us.”
“You mean that I’m a bad carpenter, Hiroki?” Kai straightened up from the plank he was planing. Hiroki went red and began to mumble an apology when Rikyu burst out laughing.
“The look on your face, Hiroki! Lord Kaito’s one of us, aren’t you, my lord?”
“I’m honored, Rikyu.” Kai burst out laughing too. But then he noticed that Hiroki’s eyes had widened in surprise, staring not at Kai, but beyond him into where the undergrowth was thickest. At the same time, Kai sensed the light becoming softer and brighter, spring sun diffusing through morning mist. He turned around and saw Inari standing there, Honou at her side, grinning broadly.
“The look on your face, Lord Kaito,” he said.
But Kai could only gaze at the new goddess. She was still Sakami, he could see that straight away, but in her rice-white robes, her glossy black hair so long now it almost touched the ground, she resembled her predecessor much more closely.
“Where have you been?” Shun’s roar broke the silence. “You said you’d visit often. Have you any idea how worried I’ve been?”
Sakami’s welcoming smile faded. “Shun; I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to make you worry.” She glided across the little glade toward him but he turned his face away. “I thought you understood. I explained it to you as best I could. And you’re doing all this for me. . .” She gestured to the half-built shrine. “That’s so sweet of you.”
“Sweet?” he echoed bitterly. “It’s a poor substitute. I want my sister back.”
She reached out and took his hand in hers. “Your sister is still here. But she has much to do and you have to get on with your own life, Shun. Find a wife to love. Give me nephews and nieces.” And when he let out a disparaging scoff, she stood on tiptoes and pulled his head down toward hers. “I can’t bear to see you like this. Perhaps this will help you understand.” And she brushed his forehead with her lips. Kai saw Shun’s embittered, resentful expression alter as though he had suddenly realized something profound and meaningful.
“Sakami,” Kai said. He could not bring himself to call her Inari. She turned to him and her face lit with a smile that made his heart ache.
“I thought you might have gone back to Master Seishi,” she said.
“Not yet. There’s been too much to do at the castle. Old Doctor Ujiake suffered a stroke this winter, so I haven’t been idle.”
“Master Seishi would be proud of his disciple. And Lady Ayaka?” The question was lightly asked but he heard the underlying nuance.
“She’s only recently come out of mourning for her husband.” He could not meet her eyes. “Although she’s found a new hobby and doesn’t seem to be missing life at the imperial court. But. . .”
“But? You forget, dear Kai, that Ayaka and I share more than Himiko’s memories. I know how she really feels about you.”
Now it was Kai’s turn to turn red.
“Don’t worry; I have Honou at my side to support and comfort me,” she said, her jaw jutting out a little defensively, as if in saying it aloud, she was confirming something understood but as yet unsaid. “Don’t I?” she added sharply, glaring at Honou who winked and blew her a cheeky kiss. “Will he ever grow up?” Sakami said under her breath. “But that isn’t why I came today,” she continued, more formally. “I want to assure you, Kai, and your clan, that for as long as you tend my shrine up here, I will protect you and keep watch over you all.”
“Thank you.” Kai bowed to acknowledge her promise.
“And I will ensure that no one tries to release Kurika again. His prison is secure. It will take many years for the onmyōji’s dark magic that corrupted and poisoned his soul to be purged by Foxfire-Fang.”
She beckoned to Honou and turned away.
“Wait –” Kai began. There was so much he wanted to ask her about her new life. Above all, he wanted to know that she was happy.
“And there’s one other thing,” she said, gazing back over her shoulder directly at him. “A little surprise to gladden your hearts now that winter is over. Go down to the shore at dusk. . .and take your flute, Kai. You’ll know which tune to play.”
***
“As soon as night fell, Lady Koshosho let the handsome captain of the archers into her room in the Camellia Pavilion. But no sooner had the lovers fallen into one another’s arms than she heard her husband’s voice calling her name. Why had he returned so early from his diplomatic mission? Did he suspect? The lady and the captain froze in their ardent embraces and –” Ayaka paused in her narrative, absently chewing the tip of her brush, before applying it to the ink stone again to continue with her latest chapter.
“Lord Kaito is here,” announced Reika, making Ayaka jump. “Did I startle you? Were you writing a particularly intimate and sensational scene?” She rolled her eyes mockingly.
Ayaka muttered and tried to dab at the unseemly blot she had made, marring her neat columns of characters.
“Now look what you’ve made me do. I’ll have to rewrite that passage. And my readers are so eager to discover what happens when Lord Koshosho returns home unannounced and surprises his wife and. . .”
“Do you want me to ask Lord Kaito to come back later?”
“Of course not!” Ayaka jumped up, displaying a most unladylike eagerness that her mother would have tutted at. “I hope you’ve offered him tea.”
Reika gave her a look that said more than any words could.
“He says he wants you to join him for a walk on the shore.”
“Right now?”
“He seems. . .eager.” And Reika held out Ayaka’s heavy outer gown jacket for her to put on. “It may be spring, but the wind on the shore is fresh and you don’t want to catch cold.”
Kai was waiting in the outer chamber, his flute in one hand. The instant she saw him she realized that something must have happened up at the mountain shrine. He seized her hand and almost dragged her out into the courtyard.
“Why the flute?” she asked, breathlessly as she tried to keep up with his brisk stride.
“Lady Inari came to the shrine. She told me to go down to the shore at dusk. It’s a surprise.”
So Sakami had returned at last, as she had promised she would. Ayaka glanced sideways at Kai but his face, warmed by the low rays of the setting spring sun, betrayed nothing but a boyish excitement that made her heart melt.
“How did you feel,” she heard herself asking hesitantly, “seeing Sakami again after so long?”
He did not reply instantly. Then he said, “She told us to come here. It’s a ‘little surprise.’”
And then they came out of the pines that grew on the slopes beneath the castle, marking the boundary between the mountain and the shore and saw the sands stretching far out to the distant sea. At low tide it was easy to make out the place where the mountain stream widened out into several channels, trickling into the sea.
But dazzled by the gleam of the setting sun on the water, she thought she saw slender winged figures strutting along the shore.
“Look, Kai.” The sight of the long-billed birds dancing, their black and white feathers, stirred memories that she knew were not her own. Their strange, haunting cries carried to them over the sands.
“Can it be?” Kai stared. “Can it really be?”
Black cranes, wings stretched wide, long, thin necks extended, as they twirled and dipped and bowed to each other at the edge of the lapping ti
de.
“They’ve returned,” he said. He turned to her and his expression was radiant, his eyes wide, like a child’s. “The Black Cranes have come back to us at last.”
- * -
Glossary
adzuki red, sweet beans
biwa short-necked four-stringed lute, often used to accompany narrative songs
dojo a place where training in martial arts takes place
eboshi black hat of office worn by the emperor and his ministers
hakama traditional garment worn by men (and miko)
go board game of strategy
itadori knotweed, used to make a healing infusion
jutsu technique, skill, or spell
kami deity or spirit
katana sword with a slender, curved blade
kekkai invisible shield or barrier
kunai sharp, leaf-bladed tool often used as a knife by shinobi
maku curtained enclosure to mark a military field headquarters
menko card game
miko female shrine attendant
naginata weapon similar to a glaive: a wooden pole with a curved blade on the end, traditionally wielded by warrior monks
obi sash worn over a kimono worn by a man or woman
onmyōdō yin and yang magic
onmyōji a specialist in magic and divination (a wielder of onmyōdō)
sake fermented alcohol made from rice
sekihan red rice; rice boiled with adzuki beans and served at celebrations
seppuku ritual suicide
shakuhachi bamboo end-blown flute, traditionally tuned to the pentatonic minor scale
shikigami spirit conjured and controlled by an onmyōji (sometimes with paper charms)
shinobi another term for a ninja, or covert agent engaged in espionage
shō wind instrument made of bamboo pipes
shuriken metal throwing star, a weapon used by shinobi
tanuki Cipangese raccoon dog