Mirror Sword and Shadow Prince

by Noriko Ogiwara

  “Ah, I see. So it’s worth the effort.” He laughed quietly as he led the horse by the reins.

  When they reached the hall, there was some fuss, but as everyone was in the middle of New Year’s celebrations and Toko and Oguna were guests as well, the only punishment they received was to be sent immediately to their room. A servant brought them their supper, and the two had no complaints about their treatment. Still, Toko would have liked to hear what the young man said to the men gathered there.

  “I wonder if he told Father his name. Don’t you think he’s a bit strange? We talked all that time, but he never once mentioned his name.”

  “Maybe he didn’t want to tell us.” Oguna had hardly touched his food, and he now lay propped up on one elbow.

  “I thought he must be your older brother, he looked so much like you. But he didn’t seem to really care about that at all. I wonder if everyone in the capital is so blasé.”

  After a little pause, Oguna said, “You know what I think? I don’t think he’s an ordinary laborer at all.”

  “Then what is he?”

  “I don’t know,” Oguna muttered. “I wonder why we look so much alike.”

  They fell silent, disturbed by a feeling for which they could find no words, a premonition that they could never return to the days that had gone before, as if some door had suddenly opened before them with the dawning of the new year. Something was going to happen. Some fate they could not avoid was drawing inexorably closer.

  Unable to understand what that was, they could only wonder what made them so uneasy.

  3

  THE NEXT MORNING Toko and Oguna received a nasty shock. Rather than evading punishment as they had hoped, Matono ordered them to stay home all day in order to reflect on their behavior. Left behind in their room, Toko was close to tears. “It’s not fair! Today’s the tournament! Everyone will be there! It’ll be the event of the year and we’ll be completely left out of it!”

  “Yeah. You’re right. Everyone is bound to be there, even the servants. Everyone except us.” Oguna stroked his face, something he always did when he felt a little guilty. “Which means there’s no one here to make sure that we’re reflecting in our room.”

  “Of course there isn’t!” Toko snapped and then stared at him wide-eyed. “Well! I misjudged you, Oguna. You’re right. Who’s going to know if we happen to pop outside for just a minute while reflecting?”

  “As long as we make it back without getting caught.”

  Toko thought it over seriously. “It’s so close. I think we can manage it. But there’s no way we can get out through the door downstairs. How about the roof? The ventilation hole in my aunt’s house is a lot bigger than the one at home. We should be able to get through it easily.”

  Oguna thought for a minute and then said, “Yes. I think we can do it. But no repeats of yesterday, all right? I don’t want to see you staring off into space again.”

  “What’re you talking about?” Toko asked. After a good night’s sleep, she was quite unconcerned.

  “When you fell in the pond. That was really weird. What was wrong with you?”

  Toko frowned. She knew there must have been some reason, but her memory of yesterday was hazy. “I can’t remember. It was nothing. Don’t worry, I won’t make the same mistake twice.”

  The chief’s hall was built on a plateau overlooking a large open space, so when they squeezed, soot-smudged, through the ventilation hole in the side of the roof and crawled up to the peak, they had a panoramic view of the archery field, enclosed as it was by walls of colorful fabric. Over a hundred contestants had gathered. They stood about in small groups, each man wearing a jacket in the colors of his village and grasping his favorite bow. The area roped off for spectators was jammed with people.

  Originally, the noriyumi was performed by the nobility on New Year’s Day, in front of the clan shrine, as a ritual prayer for a good harvest. When it became a tournament open to all, its popularity grew so that it was now the main New Year’s attraction. Almost everyone in Mino attended. Though the tournament still began with a priest chanting prayers, after that it degenerated into a boisterous and unruly celebration with spectators betting on the outcome.

  “Look! They’ve already set up the first group’s target,” Toko yelled, leaning forward. “There’s our color! Kamitsusato green.” Her tone of voice changed abruptly. “Oh! Look!”

  “Don’t get distracted. You’ll fall,” Oguna said sternly.

  “I won’t, so look, will you? There’s the man we met yesterday.”

  They were too far away to distinguish the contestants’ faces, but there was no mistaking the unusual hood. It was the man from the capital who had hauled them out of the pond. For some reason, he was wearing Kamitsusato green. He stood calmly, a bow in his hand. The two children lay on the roof, staring at him for a moment.

  “It’s him all right. But what’s he doing?” Oguna said in a low voice. “He must have asked Father for permission. I bet he asked him for that jacket in return for rescuing us.”

  “This is going to be exciting! Let’s see if he’s as good an archer as he boasted. We can’t miss this.”

  “You’re right, we can’t. But you’d better be careful of that one. He’s got some scheme up his sleeve.”

  Toko looked at Oguna, slightly puzzled. “He didn’t seem like a bad person to me. After all, he looks just like you.”

  “Personally, I wouldn’t trust my face if I were you,” Oguna said.

  With a bit of effort they managed to slip from the roof to a nearby keyaki tree and down into a deserted backstreet. They reached the archery site undetected and made a large detour to avoid the chief’s stand. But the public viewing ground was so packed that they could not see, even when they stood on tiptoe.

  “I guess that’s the only way,” Toko said, pointing at the village children clinging to the branches of the surrounding trees.

  Oguna shook his head. “If you climbed up there, you’d stick out like a cherry blossom in the middle of winter. We’ll have to do something about our clothes if we’re going to try that.”

  They asked some village children to switch clothes and as a result learned of a much better place for viewing the tournament: under the chief’s stand. Ordinarily, this was out of bounds, but savvy children knew how to sneak underneath and stay hidden behind the banners that hung from the bottom of the stand. Toko thought this was hilarious. “So, in the end, we’ll watch from the same place as always. Just a little lower down.”

  The tournament was still under way. The hooded man appeared to be progressing up the ranks, and more than just steadily, for he was drawing much attention in the process. Perhaps his conspicuous headgear made him stand out, but every time his arrow hit the bull’s-eye, Toko noticed the roar of the crowd grow louder.

  “He’s good,” one of the boys with them whispered excitedly. “I bet he makes it all the way to the final match. I’ve never seen anyone hit the mark every time like him. He’s barely even aiming.”

  Watching him carefully, even Toko could see that he was good. Far more relaxed than any other contestant, he actually seemed to be having fun, except for the one short instant when he nocked his arrow and drew the bowstring taut. Then, his eyes were harder than ice or steel. It made her wonder what it would feel like to be the target. When the arrow found its mark, his smile was so carefree and his acceptance of the crowd’s cheers so natural that he did not even seem arrogant. Toko did not take her eyes off him for an instant, and when, true to the boy’s prediction, he made it to the final match, she gripped Oguna’s arm impulsively.

  “Do you want him to win?” Oguna asked.

  “He looks so much like you, I can’t help it. If you were stronger, that’s what you’d be like.”

  The young man’s opponent was about ten years older, a seasoned archer and last year’s champion, yet when they stood side by side facing their targets, it was the stranger from the capital who was the more imposing. To Toko, he seemed
to radiate an aura that awed everyone around him. Ignoring his opponent and the huge crowd that watched with bated breath, the man drew his bow as if he were standing alone in the forest—and won! A thunderous roar rose from the spectators.

  “Now that’s what you call strong, Oguna! I hope you’ll be like that someday. Then no one could beat you anymore!” Toko shouted, forgetting that they were hiding under the chief’s stand. But the noise from the crowd was far too loud for anyone to hear.

  Then it was time for the winners to receive their prizes. When everything was ready, the best archers lined up in front of the chief’s stand. No one moved to leave. They all hoped to catch a glimpse of Lady Akaru before going home. One by one the archers accepted their prizes until finally the youth, the overall winner, stepped forward, this time without his hood.

  At that moment, someone in the crowd shouted, “He’s got no right to the prize. He doesn’t come from Mino—he’s an outsider!” Toko and Oguna froze. A murmur ran through the crowd, gradually growing louder.

  The young man reached the stand. Unruffled, he looked up at Lady Akaru and said cheerfully, “I am, indeed, an outsider. Therefore, let me return my prize. To stand here before you is sufficient reward.”

  Lady Akaru, holding the prize ready, looked slightly flustered, but with her characteristic grace she nodded and said, “Then will you tell us where you’re from? I can’t believe that the man who defeated the best archers in Mino could have no name. Although, now that I see your face, you remind me of a young boy I know very well.”

  “I too know the boy of whom you speak,” he answered solemnly. “But, my lady, I do not know of anyone in Toyoashihara who resembles you. Though I have looked far and wide, I have never met any maiden as beautiful as you in all my life. I came prepared to find that rumor outshone reality, as rumors usually do, but it appears that this time, rumor failed to do justice to beauty, just as hearsay can never do justice to the fragrance of a flower or the melody of a song.”

  A faint blush touched her cheeks and she glanced away shyly. “I see you’re skilled at flattery,” she said. “And now I know where you’re from. You come from the capital, don’t you?”

  The young man smiled and the admiration in his eyes deepened. “You’re well informed. Yes, I came here all the way from the capital for one purpose only—to see you. I am Oh-usu, the firstborn son of the emperor of Mahoroba, sent to Mino on his command. He ordered me to conceal my identity and discover whether Lady Akaru lived up to her reputation. Having seen that there is no one more suited to be the emperor’s wife than you, I can remove my mask and announce myself as his messenger.”

  “Prince Oh-usu?” Lady Akaru whispered. No one else spoke or moved.

  “Let me repeat my request. I wish to take you to my father’s palace in Mahoroba to be his wife. We have waited so long for someone like you.”

  She lowered her lashes and said, “You’re a brave man. You come to Mino alone and dare to tell me this here? Are all the emperor’s family so bold?”

  “Depending on the time and place, yes.” Then he added, “And on the person.”

  When the first shock had passed, pandemonium broke loose. Toko and Oguna stayed crouched under the stand, dazed, while the wave of noise broke over them.

  “I’m so glad I’m not sitting up there,” Oguna said. “Everyone would be staring at me.”

  “What a person for you to look like!”

  “Yes, but at least we don’t have to worry anymore. This proves that it’s pure coincidence. After all, the emperor has never been to Mino.”

  “Yeah … the emperor …” Toko rested her chin on her knees and said gloomily, “That’s disappointing. If his son is that old, the emperor must be even older than Father. And poor Akaru is going to be his bride. It’s her fate, that’s what the high priestess said. It doesn’t pay at all to be born a woman of the Tachibana clan.”

  “YOU DIDN’T NEED to go to all the trouble of building an island,” Lady Akaru said.

  “I wanted to make a pond that was beautiful, not just useful,” Prince Oh-usu responded.

  “Well, it’s certainly useful. I can’t begin to count how many rice fields will benefit from it.”

  “And there’ll be a beautiful view of the moon reflected on its surface from the villa we’re building.”

  The two had left their horses and servants at one end of the pond and were strolling along the bank. Prince Oh-usu wanted to show Lady Akaru where the villa was to be built. The sun shone brightly and signs of spring were everywhere. The lilting song of the bush warblers rang like clear crystal among the trees. Butterbur plants poked their heads, green and innocent, from the soft earth.

  The prince’s hair was bound in loops on either side of his head and he wore his sword on his hip. The hem of Lady Akaru’s pale pink silk skirt trailed along the ground, rustling the grasses along the bank. Young and beautiful, their figures provided the perfect accent to the setting, and their eyes met often with a shared delight.

  “The grass is already turning green,” Lady Akaru said. “And look, there’s a violet.”

  “An early bloomer.”

  “No, don’t pick it.” She grasped his hand to stop him from plucking the flower and then drew back in confusion.

  “Don’t you like to receive flowers?”

  “I just can’t bear to see a plant carelessly plucked when it’s blooming so bravely.”

  “Like you,” the prince said with a smile. “Perhaps I should not have plucked you either. Perhaps I should have returned to the capital and told my father that you were hideously ugly, not at all like rumor claimed.”

  The princess raised her head. “No, you mustn’t say that. It was meant to be.”

  “Your determination in that regard is admirable.” Looking round at the pond, the prince abruptly changed the subject. “Look. That’s where I plan to build the villa. It will be a palace worthy of you when visiting your homeland. I intend to build a gazebo overlooking the pond too. My father will surely honor this spot by visiting it often.”

  Lady Akaru smiled teasingly. “That’s wonderful. But if he thinks that by picking me, Mino will fall easily into his grasp, he’ll find that he’s mistaken.”

  “Well, you certainly are surprising,” the prince said. “I didn’t expect to hear what even the chief hesitates to say. Perhaps you wield more power than your father. In fact, I’ve heard that the women of the Tachibana clan have a strange gift. Like the fragrant citrus fruit that grows in the underworld after which their clan is named, the ladies of this land reputedly have the power to grant eternal life. Is that true?”

  “Where on earth did you hear such a tale? I certainly can’t grant immortality,” Lady Akaru said. She twirled about lightly on her feet with a laugh, setting her long skirt floating in the air. “I’m just an ordinary girl, a country maid.”

  “Light, wind, and water—those are the things that suit you best. This is where your beauty belongs. I should never have picked you. Not for my father.”

  “Please don’t say that,” Lady Akaru said, her eyes suddenly serious. “I knew why you’d come and that you would ask me to be the emperor’s wife. I was prepared for this from the very beginning.”

  They looked at each other for a long moment. “Come!” the prince suddenly said. “Let’s cross over to the island. The bridge isn’t finished yet, but we can still get across.”

  The man-made isle had a small hill in the center. Yet incomplete, much of it was still bare earth and stone. The footing was precarious, and the prince took Lady Akaru by the hand. “It can’t be called beautiful yet, but we’ll add cherry and maple trees and other plants to enjoy in every season. It will be one of the views from the villa. Which do you like best, spring or fall?”

  She did not answer his question but instead exclaimed in admiration, “You can change the scenery any way you choose. Doesn’t it make you afraid?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Gods inhabit the earth.”

&n
bsp; He looked at her strangely. “Really? I’ve never run into one myself.”

  “You poor thing. Have you never felt the love of the Goddess?” As she said this, she stepped on a loose stone and stumbled. The prince caught her in his arms.

  “If the goddess were you, I would,” he whispered and kissed her. Though brief, his kiss was fire.

  There was a pause. Then Lady Akaru pushed him away, crying, “How could you! Have you forgotten your mission?”

  “I won’t tell my father about you. He can marry some other maiden. I can’t bear to give you away to any other man. My lady, I knew from the moment I saw you that I would never find another like you. My feelings for you have only grown stronger with each passing day. Please listen to me. I’ll build you a house by this pond. Let’s live here together, never leaving Mino.”

  Tears welled in Lady Akaru’s eyes. They streamed down her cheeks and spilled onto her robe. But when the prince took a step toward her, she shook her head and retreated from him. “If only we could. If only. But it’s impossible. It is to the emperor’s soul that I must bring peace and solace. This is my fate. You’re a kind man. Even without me, the Goddess will love you and bring you happiness. Please, I beg you. Do not test me. Do not test my strength.”

  Turning abruptly, she ran unsteadily across the bridge and sped off along the bank without once looking back. The prince reached out his hand as she fled with her long black hair streaming behind her, but the shock was so great, he could not follow.

  He sat down on the edge of a rock and buried his face in his hands. He stayed that way, motionless, for a long time. Not even the twittering of the birds reached his ears. But he could not fail to detect the presence of another human being, however faint. Putting a hand to his sword, he suddenly shouted, “Who’s there? Show yourself!”

  Shamefaced, Oguna stepped out reluctantly. “I’m sorry …” he said.