“Because I am far more suited to be the crown prince than you. Didn’t you think it strange that the power of the Sword should have transferred itself to me? I have the right to wield it. The blood of the God of Light runs in my veins too. I too am a son of the emperor. And I am the eldest, born before Oh-usu, born when the emperor himself was still the crown prince.”
Oguna drew in a sharp breath and stared at Sukune. He supposed he should have guessed, but it had not even occurred to him. My brother—Sukune is also my brother.
“My mother was too lowly to become the emperor’s wife. Thus, I became his servant and was promoted to the position of his shadow. No doubt the emperor has never guessed. I have served him like a loyal slave for years. I watched without protest as Oh-usu, my younger brother, rose to the position for which he was born. But then you appeared, bearing the Sword. It became clear that you had been concealed and trained as Oh-usu’s shadow. From that moment, I began to think.”
Oguna thought he could guess how Sukune felt. There were some things that only someone who had served as a shadow could understand—like how it felt to be invisible with no one giving you a moment’s thought; to be relegated to the darkness that lay behind the glory of another. Oguna could empathize with Sukune, something he was sure that Prince Oh-usu had never been able to do. He also understood why Sukune had succeeded in transforming himself into Oguna so masterfully that he could absorb the power of the Sword. They were very similar. Much more so than Oguna and Oh-usu had ever been, despite the fact that they looked almost identical.
“I shall do to you what you did to Oh-usu. I will return to the capital as the commander who triumphantly vanquished the Emishi. The people will welcome me with great rejoicing as the crown prince. And I will at last stand in the light of day, as the son of the emperor.”
Two conflicting emotions—anger and pity—warred in Oguna’s heart. If he gave in to his anger, he could easily wrest the power of the Sword from Sukune’s grasp and destroy him. Just as he had done to Oh-usu. But he had already been through that once. And in Sukune, he could sense the same misery he himself bore—the pain of brothers who would never be loved by their father. Oguna had at least become a prince, albeit from no desire of his own, but Sukune had been forced to watch from the wings. He had dwelled in the darkness much longer than Oguna.
“I cannot kill you,” Oguna said. “If you wish to return in victory, then do so. Princedom was, after all, a station I acquired only through deception. I will give you the name of crown prince and all that goes with it. But I cannot let you take the power of the Sword. That I will destroy here. I will not let you wield it again.”
“The Sword chose me. You have no claim to it.”
“You’re wrong,” Oguna said bluntly. “Even now, the Sword seeks me, not you. Your intentions just happened to be in alignment with those of my mother.”
“Let’s find out who’s right then.” Sukune placed his hand on the hilt of the Sword.
I do this of my own accord, regardless of my mother’s wishes, Oguna thought. In order to seal his mother’s will inside him, he must offer himself freely. At that moment in time, Oguna felt no hate, not for anyone. That at least was a comfort.
Light, so brilliant it looked like the rising sun, burst up from the hill and pierced the sky.
5
THE MISUMARU lost its light. It did not glow even when Toko gave it to Sugaru. This could only mean one thing—its mission had been fulfilled. The power of the Sword had been extinguished from the world.
“Why did you let him go?” Sugaru demanded. “You knew full well what he would do.” When Sugaru had seen the light flash from the hill at dawn, he had been so upset he was beside himself. If he had had the Misumaru, he would never have let Oguna go without doing something. “I knew Oguna wanted to die, but I never imagined that you would agree to that.”
“There was nothing else I could do …” Toko said, feeling numb.
“There must have been something.”
“No.” Toko shook her head. “Not something I could do at any rate. No matter what I might have tried, it would only have tied him down. He chose to go of his own free will, you know.”
“And you just accept that?” Sugaru asked. “Frankly, I’m just a little devastated. You know, I quite liked that kid. I would have found a way to keep him alive, no matter what he said.”
Toko glared at him. “You’ve got some nerve, Sugaru. Do I just accept this? How can you even ask? Of course, I don’t!” Tears welled rapidly in her eyes. “I wish that I could die too. But I can’t, because I promised.” The tears began to fall and she could not stop them. She tried not to hiccup but without success.
“I’m sorry,” Sugaru said, suddenly repentant. “Why do you always have to act so tough?”
He’s right. I always pretend that I’m all right when I’m not. Maybe she had wanted to put on a brave face for Oguna until the very end. She had promised him that she would live. But now, all she saw ahead was an empty horizon, stretching on forever like a withered field that would never bloom again. She stood here, alone, not knowing what to live for.
SUKUNE did not go back on his word. He released Takehiko and the other prisoners and they reached the camp on the evening of the following day. Just the sight of them, all at least able to walk despite their wounds, brought Toko some comfort in her grief. Takehiko told them that as soon as they had been freed, the enemy forces had struck camp and hastened away as if pursued. Having achieved their purpose, they would probably head straight for the capital.
“They told us that we could serve under their ‘prince’ if we wished, but there wasn’t a single one among us who was willing. How could we ever serve an impostor? We gave our lives to only one man, and now that he’s gone, there’s no need for us to return to the capital.” Takehiko turned to Toko. “I’ve had enough of serving under the emperor. The prince should never have had to throw his life away. I’m going to build a tomb in his honor and spend the rest of my days here.”
“But surely you have a home,” Toko said. “You must have some place to return to.”
Takehiko shook his head. “The prince traded his life for all of ours. He will always be our commander, now and forever. Even if Mahoroba forgets who the true prince is, we never will. I speak for all of us. We’ll remain here to guard his tomb and stand by him.”
Oguna’s men were true to him. They follow him even now that he’s dead. If he should never have lived, then why was he so well loved? Toko turned her face away. Every thought hurt, a reminder of the gaping wound in her heart.
“Toko, what do you plan to do?” Sugaru asked her, his voice cautious. “We talked about this before, remember? I told you that if Oguna died you could come back to Izumo with me. That offer still stands, you know.”
“Things are so different now,” Toko said quietly. “Everything has changed. Everything … including me …” She hesitated but only for a moment. “I think that I will stay here too. I don’t want to forget Oguna either. I’ll make this my home and live in this land. I think that I can do that. After all, I won’t be alone.”
“You plan to stay here forever? To live with the dead?” Sugaru asked. “You make it so much harder for me to leave.”
“Don’t feel sorry for me.” She paused for a while. “Give me a little more time,” she said finally. “I’ll come up with a better reason. It’s just that I can’t think at all right now. I can’t quite believe Oguna’s gone. It feels like he might turn up at any moment.”
THEY CLIMBED THE HILL to the north but found nothing—no body or any other trace of Oguna. They would have to bury his armor and belongings instead. Takehiko and his men threw themselves into their work just the same, and within a few days they had made a large mound. Toko thought it was huge, but Takehiko considered it far too small.
“This is not a fitting mausoleum. I’m going to keep building.”
Toko gazed up at the mound of earth. Though she could understand Takehiko’s feel
ings, regardless of the mound’s height, it was just a pile of dirt, a tomb that stirred in her no memories of Oguna—not a single gesture or facial expression, not even the sound of his breathing. No matter how long she might gaze at it, it would never convey to her his presence.
The day was overcast and the cold air bit her to the bone. Gray clouds hung low and not a ray of light peeped through. Desolate branches, bereft of leaves, pierced the sky. The company stood a while longer in that spot, numbed with cold, then finally turned away, their hearts as frigid as the scenery. Long before they had reached the camp, snow began to fall. At first the flakes were few, swirling lightly in the air, but soon they fell so thickly they blocked out the sky.
“It looks like it’s going to stick,” Sugaru said, gazing up at the snow. Sitting behind him on his horse, Toko looked up too. One flake, then another and another, drifting in the air. Like white feathers. Something familiar and dear suddenly filled her heart, a feeling so powerful it almost overwhelmed her. Silver snow dappled her vision, shutting out the broad expanse of plain that should stretch before her. For some reason, the snow falling from the heavens seemed much closer to Oguna than his burial mound. Toko drew in a deep breath and savored the sensation. The warm feeling that filled her contrasted starkly with the icy cold of the white crystals.
“What is it?” Sugaru must have noticed the change. At first, Toko could not put it into words. There was no rational explanation, but somehow she felt certain that Oguna was nearby, here, on this earth.
“I just can’t help feeling that Oguna is back,” she said finally. She could feel a hot flush suffuse her cheeks. Sugaru’s look of concern deepened.
“Maybe you’re coming down with a fever.”
“No, I’m not,” Toko protested. Still, it was odd, she thought. How could she feel any joy at a time like this? But that was exactly what filled her heart. As if Oguna were alive, standing just over there. Suddenly she was afraid, and her heart began to pound. “Do you really think it’s strange?”
“You bet I do. You’ve been in the cold too long, that’s the problem.”
Sugaru told Takehiko that he was riding on ahead and urged his horse to a gallop. The wind whipped their faces and the snow flowed past. Even the flakes that caught in her face and hair seemed like part of a dream. She half believed this premonition, but at the same time, she was afraid to. Who wouldn’t be afraid, she thought. How could she be sure that she hadn’t lost her mind? That would be terrible, when she had promised Oguna that she would be strong. But I feel him. Just like I used to feel him in my dreams. As if he’s still here …
The horse raced up the gentle slope, and the camp at the top came into view. Toko was afraid to open her eyes. She did not want to confront her own despair. But Sugaru, his hands on the reins, suddenly let out a cry of surprise. “Hey! I must be seeing things. Who is that standing there?”
There should have been no one at the fort. Everyone down to the last man had gone to the mound for the funeral. But there up ahead in the falling snow stood a figure dressed in white, as if he had come from the heavens with the snow.
Toko thought she would faint. Perhaps she had. For she had no memory of how she managed to leap to the ground and run to him. But when she came to her senses she was clinging to Oguna. To Oguna. And he was warm.
“Well, you don’t appear to be a ghost,” Sugaru said in astonishment. “You know, we’ve already built your tomb. It’s so big you have to crane your neck to look up at it. So what’re you doing here?”
“That’s right,” Toko said. “We thought you were dead.” She was still so afraid that her voice trembled.
“I died. But I came back,” Oguna said.
Toko shivered. “Does that mean you’re going to leave again?”
“No, I’m staying. If it’s all right with you. I’ll stay by your side until my hair turns gray. But the prince Ousu is dead. Or rather, Sukune took him away. So I actually no longer exist.”
“What about the Sword?”
“It’s gone. I’m no longer its wielder. My mother took that part of me with her when she left. She’s now at rest, forever.”
“Really?”
Oguna smiled and tightened his arms around her. “That tomb won’t go to waste. After all, the person I was up until now has really died. But the man who wanted to live, the man who wanted to be with you, has come back. Guided by the Misumaru.”
“By the Misumaru?” Shocked, Toko pulled back from his embrace to stare at him. “But I didn’t do anything. I decided to abide by your wishes and do nothing.”
“The light of the Misumaru reached me,” Oguna said gently. “When I lost my body in the radiance of the Sword, I felt myself separate from this world. My mother beckoned to me. But I saw the magatama, with its beautiful multicolored stones, shining far in the distance, just like that time you healed the burn on my arm. And that’s when I realized that if I wanted to come back, I could.”
Sugaru sucked in his breath. “But that’s resurrection. So you’ve truly come back to life.”
Toko felt as if she had been bewitched. That which she had not even attempted, that which should have been impossible, had actually been done. “But how could that be? There were only four magatama in the Misumaru. Lady Iwa told me that it was beyond our capacity to gather five stones.”
“There were five stones shining,” Oguna said casually. “You had four and I had one. Just like when you healed my wound.”
Toko cast an astonished look at Sugaru and then turned back to Oguna, asking breathlessly, “What color was your magatama?”
“Light blue.”
“Light blue?” Toko gaped at him.
Sugaru poked her. “What’s this all about?”
“Ao, the light blue magatama, was the first stone to be lost. Long ago, in the time of the gods. It’s part of the legend. You know, the Water Maiden and the Wind Child—” Toko broke off abruptly. The Water Maiden and the Wind Child were the founders of the emperor’s line. The blood of the Water Maiden, who belonged to the people of Darkness, had merged with the blood of the last child of the God of Light through the magatama. If there were truth in the old legend, the emperor and his kin carried within them not only the power of the Sword, but also the power of the Water Maiden’s stone. Toko reasoned that far and then looked at Oguna with renewed wonder.
“You used the Misumaru yourself then, didn’t you?”
Oguna looked at her blankly. Clearly, he had not done so knowingly. But he must have. Though he himself was not a god, he had been able to wield the Sword because of his lineage with the God of Light. And though he was human, he also carried within him a magatama of the Goddess of Darkness. During his struggle to defy the Sword, he must have found the power of the stone inside him. The stone had resonated with Toko, and his will to live had brought him back to her. It was not Toko who had brought him back. He had opened the path himself in order to respond to what was in her heart.
“My mother intended to take me with her. But at the last moment, I relinquished the part of myself that wielded the Sword, the prince, to Sukune. That is what saved me. The man I am now is not the one my mother desired, the one who wielded the god’s power. It’s the other part of me.” Oguna looked earnestly at Toko. “Sukune will return to the capital as the crown prince and heir, as the hero who bears the Sword. That person is no longer me. And I don’t mind. It was only fair. Because it turned out that he too was my brother. Just like Oh-usu.”
Toko smiled, finally reassured that even if she took a deep breath, Oguna would not disappear. “So only my Oguna came back to me, is that it? You’re no longer a Takeru. Sukune took that with him as well.”
“Takeru?”
“A hero destined to die young.”
“Mmm.” He hugged her silently for a while and then said, “When I walked toward the light of the Misumaru, I knew that Sukune did not have long to live. But in return he will gain a fame that will never fade. His name will live on as a legend long after he h
as died. I … will remain unknown and nameless.”
“That’s just fine by me,” Toko said emphatically. “Now we can settle down and till the earth. We can live quietly and surely. And only we will know just how wonderful that really is.”
Toko and Oguna had given up everything, even hope and desire, trusting in the outcome. And in the end, everything they had really wanted had been returned to them. This realization rendered Toko speechless. Fate had sent them off into the world only to free them from its violent grip—urging them to live.
They heard shouts behind them. The others had arrived, and realizing that it was Oguna, they came pounding up with a noise that made the earth shake.
“It’s the prince!”
“The prince is standing! Am I dreaming?”
“He’s alive!”
In their astonishment, they threw decorum to the wind and began grabbing at the young man to make sure he was real. Oguna was mobbed and Toko and Sugaru along with him. Some cried, others laughed, and all of them so loudly that it sounded like a great celebration. The weight of their grief lifted and dissolved into the sky. Even the snow, falling like a blizzard of flower petals, added joyful gaiety to their gathering.
THE DEEP LAYERS of snow finally melted and the wind changed. Grass shoots erupted from the moist black earth and the dormant meadows began to breathe with life. Storm clouds gathered and then dissipated, and each time the blue sky peeking through appeared softer and milder. Looking up at the clear sky, Toko saw a large white bird flap slowly across it. She stared at it, startled, but then smiled. Far from being an evil omen, this was a perfectly normal sight. Flocks of swans, recognizing the signs of spring, were preparing to migrate north. The season was changing.
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