The Dragon's Flower

by Wyn Estelle Owens

  “Well, Empress-to-be, for now it seems that our paths must part for the time being. There is much to do, and my husband requires my assistance and presence. But first, there is something I want to say to you.”

  Hanako blinked up at the lady, who was extremely tall. Not quite as tall as Akashi Keiji (no one, Hanako was convinced, could ever be quite as tall as him), but had her husband been here, Momoe Chiyo would have towered over him. She nodded, hesitantly, and the Celestial Spirit smiled in approval.

  “Two things, actually: be at peace about your husband. He lives yet, for the Heavenly Emperor, I believe, still has much for him to do. He is awaiting your arrival in time, to drag him out of his self-loathing and sorrow.” Hanako suddenly looked nervous, and Momoe Chiyo shook her head gently.

  “Do not worry, I’m certain you are up to the task. And secondly: I know what you have been thinking, and allow me to disabuse you of your faulty notions, though they are understandable ones to make. Despite what you may think, mortal empress, but I was at your birth, and my husband and I and all our children blessed you. Believe me, you are more than qualified to lead the empire with your husband at your side.”

  Hanako stared at her, in utter, complete confusion. The lady smiled mysteriously and leaned forward, pressing a careful kiss to Hanako’s forehead. “May the blessing of the Heavenly Goose and her lord husband the Immortal Dragon be upon you. May your steps be safe and you never be hungry.”

  “Thank you,” Hanko said, as she felt her eyes well with tears. Momoe Chiyo merely smiled again and slowly stepped back, before bowing deeply, straightening, and disappearing into eh shadows of the forest.

  “I told you that it’s called morning sickness,” The Clever One said from where he had curled up next to the fire.

  Hanako pursed her lips at the Fox, but decided to ignore him for the moment and get to sleep. Momoe Chiyo had emphasized the importance of rest, and Hanako did not want to do anything to risk the safety of her child.

  *****

  The air in the mountains was finally starting to warm up, even though it was growing close to the end of the Spring season.

  They had been traveling for close to two months now, for Akashi Keiji had slowed down his speed out of respect for Hanako’s delicate condition.

  Hanako was enjoying the journey very much, though she was rather disappointed that whenever they came to a village on the river’s banks, the Clever One took great pains to avoid it. She wanted to see the people, but Akashi Keiji insisted it was best to avoid people until she reached their destination. Hanako wanted to argue, but he was the immortal, celestial spirit, so she reluctantly decided to trust his judgement.

  But now they had reached their destination at last.

  Hanako stood on the hill overlooking the city and had to use all her self control and decorum in order not to gape like a child. She had heard of cities, of course, but Hanako had never imagined that they would be quite so big or full of so many people.

  “Do you like what you see, little Empress?” Said the fox seated at her feet, and she glanced down at her faithful guardian, shaking her head.

  “I… it’s very beautiful, but far more than I was ever expecting!” she explained sheepishly, and the Fox looked up at her with a teasing glint in his eyes. “The Imperial City where you will dwell one day is far larger, and has the capacity to fit three time as many people within its walls.”

  Hanako was sure that her eyes looked like full moons, based on how wide they felt. “So big.” She whispered. Sure, intellectually she had known that places like this and larger existed in the world (this was, after all, only a port city. A mildly important one, true, but it was not as if it was the capital of Nagisa). But seeing them, before her very own eyes… it was a very different thing than idly imagining it while reading a scroll.

  She sighed, desperately wanting to venture into the city and explore, but her husband had cautioned Hanako to go around the outside of the city. “Ah, I suppose we’ll have to circle around the outside now?”

  She turned to look at the celestial who was now towering above her, blinking in surprise. The Clever One grinned slyly and shook his head. “Nay, that won’t be necessary. The only reason your honorable husband advised that course of action was because instructing a young, lovely woman to wander aimlessly about the streets of a port city is not what one generally considers wise. But now you have me with you, little empress, and I can take you straight to the inn he spoke of.”

  Hanako’s heart leapt in excitement, and her fingers strayed to the handle of the wakizashi her husband had entrusted her with. “Thank you, Akashi Keiji-dono. For all your help. It means very much to me.”

  Akashi Keiji bowed deeply and smiled, “It is, as it has always been, my greatest pleasure and honor to be of service to you. Now, shall we go?”

  Hanako bit her lip to keep the smile from spreading indecently wide across her face, and pressed her hand against the ever-so-slight widening of her stomach. Soon, so very, very soon, she would reach a place where she could give birth to her child in peace and safety. She was about to give her guardian an affirmative when a thought occurred to her.

  “Ah, excuse me, Fox-dono, but wouldn’t it be wise to hide your hair? It’s so very bright and beautiful, it is sure to be noticed.”

  The Clever One waved a hand at that with a smile. “Don’t worry yourself so, little empress. Very few will notice my hair, if at all. For a race blessed with decent eyes, they are notoriously blind when they want to be.”

  With that problem solved, apparently (Hanako had long ago decided it was futile to dispute the Celestial’s statements on situations such as this), she answered his earlier question. “Well then, lets’ most certainly go now,” she murmured quietly, and she followed his lead down the hill and into the city.

  It was only her years of training that kept her from gazing about like an uncultured country girl, trying to take in every aspect of the city of Konami. The very variety of people were amazing—the only ones she had ever come into contact with before were her Mother’s retainers, who were all remarkably alike. Pretty and sparkly, with faces like porcelain masks and cold, conniving eyes (it was strange now, how clearly she remembered this, once the veil of her Mother’s so-called love was lifted from her own eyes. Now at last she knew why she had felt such a strange sense of unease around her Mother’s vassals). But these people—their faces were open and their eyes were fairly broadcasting their feelings. Some faces were sad, or weary, or happy, or just… at peace.

  It was like being in the midst of a whirlwind of emotion, and it made her head spin dizzily in excitement. Hanako guessed that if she had been on her own, it would have been incredibly easy for her to lose her way, but Akashi Keiji was here, faithfully hovering at her right shoulder, quietly giving her directions as to where to go.

  He led her with ease through the winding, bewildering maze of streets, heading unerringly towards the waterfront. Finally, just as the sun was beginning to sink to sleep in the ocean, he led her to the front door of a small establishment, entitled ‘The Inn of the Waning Tide’.

  It… wasn’t exactly what Hanako would consider ‘nice’, Hanako considered optimistically. Still, the title was the same, and it was on the Street of the Crane, so she had to assume that’s what it was.

  “Go on in,” her guardian said calmly, “I’ll be right besides you.”

  “I know,” she responded, just as calmly as he, and went in.

  Once they were inside, Hanako delicately lifted the sleeve of her yukata in what she hoped was a surreptitious move to mask the… unique smell emitted by the inn. Akashi Keiji took the lead again, bargaining with the owner of the inn for a room. Hanako eyed the innkeeper curiously, and he didn’t even seem to be startled for even the slightest moment about the Fox’s appearance. Apparently Akashi Keiji was correct, but now she was curious, and made a note to ask him what exactly he had meant about being ‘notoriously blind’ later.

  Akashi Keiji smiled and b
owed to the innkeeper, who returned the gesture, signifying the closing of the deal. “Come on, this way, Hanako-san.” He said, and walked off down the hallway.

  Hanako tentatively followed after him, doing her best to blend into the woodwork. She didn’t want to draw any undue attention to herself.

  However, it seemed as if her hopes were doomed to be failed, for she had barely turned the corner when a man clad in dark colors seemed to melt out of the shadows and appeared before her, a kunai held nerve-wrackingly close to her throat.

  “You better have an excellent excuse as to why you are in the possession of that wakizashi, miss,” He said, his voice low but sharp and biting.

  “Of course, shinobi-san.” Hanako said calmly. “Am I to assume you are the Ichiro-san in the service of my honored brother?”

  There was a tense silence, before the shinobi said, “Excuse me, what?”

  “I was instructed by my honored husband to find this inn, and you, or at least I assume so, shinobi-san,” Hanako explained. “Once I did so, I was to show you the symbol on the wakizashi which my husband entrusted to me, and request that you assist me in fulfilling my mission.”

  “I…” The shinobi was at a loss for words, which was not a common occurrence in his career. “I’m sorry, but who are you?”

  Hanako carefully inclined her head forward, careful to avoid the sharp point of the kunai. “I am Princess Nishimura Hanako of the Dragons,” she said quietly, “Wife of Prince Nishimura Shichiro of Masaki. My husband sent me here in order to attain assistance from you in guiding me to the home of my husband’s honorable brother, Prince Hamasaki Isao of Nagisa.”

  The shinobi stared at her for a long moment, then at the wakizashi.

  “Don’t you recognize Tenshi when you see it?” Akashi Keiji said calmly from where he lounged casually against the wall, some seven paces behind the shinobi.

  A faint shiver slid along the shinobi’s muscle, which, for such a talented ninja as he was, was the equivalent of leaping five feet into the air and shrieking like a girl-child.

  Akashi Keiji smirked, and Hanako eyed the shinobi with concerned and sympathetic compassion. It was obvious the shinobi had failed to perceive the Celestial’s presence, not that that was all that surprising. He was, after all, a Celestial. However, her guardian seemed to take a tad bit more enjoyment from the situation than what Hanako felt was strictly appropriate, and she did feel for the poor ninja. It could be unnerving, dealing with a Celestial, until you became used to their presence. They were not human, after all, and they had different ways.

  The shinobi, in an effort to keep his apparent inattentiveness under wraps (not that it fooled either Hanako or the Fox), said frostily, “I was not aware that the Ronin had named his wakizashi.”

  Hanako frowned daintily at this way of referring to her husband, which she found to be distinctly lacking in the respect Shichiro so richly deserved. However, it wasn’t her place to say anything, so she held her tongue.

  “Oh, he didn’t.” Akashi Keiji said blithely, and his eyes shimmered with some private joke of his own, beyond their mortal fathoming.

  “Now, are you going to acknowledge that my charge is who she claims to be, or are you going to keep threatening her until you try my rather considerable patience? Because if you do, I shall get… angry. And I daresay you shall find that my anger is not something that can be considered pleasant to experience.”

  The Shinobi stiffened slightly, in anger and affront, but he glanced carefully over the wakizashi, examining its every inch with every due attention.

  After a moment, the kunai vanished back into the folds of his clothing, and he stepped back, sinking to his knees and bowing his forehead to the floor. “I beg your forgiveness, my lady, and humbly request you allow me to escort you to the courts of my lord.”

  Hanako tilted her head gracefully, and lifted one hand to modestly hide her gentle smile. “My thanks and forgiveness are freely given, shinobi-san. Am I therefore to take you are indeed the Ichiro-san I seek?”

  “I am indeed.” Ichiro said. “And I am at your service.”

  “Then,” Hanako said, “Take me to my honored brother-in-law, as swiftly as you may.”

  “It shall be done.” He vowed, and Hanako could feel the determination in his voice. This, she thought, is a man who will do all in his power to keep from breaking his word. Shichiro has placed me in good hands indeed.

  ---

  The man was surrounded by darkness, but when he slept, he dreamed, and it gave him some small relief from the void in which he walked. Yet it healed not the pain within his heart.

  ---

  CHAPTER TEN --- THE VISITOR AND THE MESSAGE

  Isao was quietly reading a scroll of poetry which Ichiro had delivered to him several days ago, straight from the hands of his baby sister. He hummed thoughtfully as he read them, and then smiled. She had quite the talent with the delicate phrasing necessary for haiku, and her calligraphy had improved in leaps and bounds within the past several years.

  She was indeed a baby sister to be proud of, not that he ever doubted her. She had always been clever, Isao knew. It was easy to see the intelligence shining in her eyes as she grew up. It’s not Isao’s fault that certain members of his previous family insisted on being blind idiots, and wouldn’t know true worth if it slapped them in the face. At least, he assumed so. He’d never actually tried his hypothesis, no matter how satisfying slapping them would feel.

  There was a quiet tap on the shoji to his study, and he looked up, glancing at the candle clock and saw it was approaching late afternoon. “Come in.” He commanded, and the shoji door slid open to reveal Ichiro.

  “Ah, you’ve returned?” He said, resting his chin on his palm. “What news do you have for me?”

  “A very special… package.” The shinobi said, his voice stained with some knowledge Isao was not privy to. “Sent to you, in order to be entrusted into your capable care, my lord.”

  “Oh, really?” Isao perked up. This sounded promising, perhaps even exciting. It had to be better than paperwork, at least. “Who sent it?”

  “Your brother, the ronin, my lord.” Ichiro said, and again his voice seemed… strange. Isao was intrigued. He was also rather relieved. It had been nearly two months (at least I think so) since he had last heard from Shichiro, and to tell the truth he had begun to grow mildly concerned. Hopefully, it would turn out to be nothing more than Shichiro’s ever-present wanderlust getting the better of him for a month or two, but his last message indicated it might be a tad more troublesome than that.

  Seriously, who was he to go off and get married behind his own brother’s back? The nerve! And to a princess of Akiyama, and if Isao had read the message aright (as if he would read it wrong, of course), it indicated that Shichiro had been canoodling with the Shogun of Masaki at the time.

  Had Shichiro gone mad?

  Isao pouted.

  He probably also got married in those tattered scraps of cloth he called clothes. Isao should have been there! He was Shichiro’s older brother, dang it!

  Besides, who knew what sort of woman Shichiro had married? She was a princess of the Fujioka clan, after all, and everyone with a brain between their ears knew what all the women of that clan were like!

  After taking a moment to think, Isao decided that it was perhaps a bit harsh to insist every single woman of the Fujioka was a manipulative, scheming hussy. There were probably a couple decent ones scattered about the vast sea of the clan. However, Shichiro’s bride had been handpicked by the Dumb Old Shogun of Masaki as a bride for Shichiro. Therefore, the chances that the particular daughter of the Fujioka clan which the Dumb Old Shogun approved of would happen be one of those honorable girl were infinitesimal, if not miraculous.

  With all that taken into consideration, just what, by the Dragon’s ever-loving endless tail, did Shichiro think he was doing????

  “So, tell me, Ichiro, what exactly is this package that my baby brother sent?” Isao asked, now brimming w
ith curiosity. Shichiro had never sent him a package before—it must be pretty important, whatever it contained.

  Ichiro shifted uncomfortably, and said, “It’s… uh, rather unusual.”

  Isao lifted an eyebrow elegantly. “How, exactly, can a package be unusual?”

  “Well, it’s not precisely a package…” He fell silent, clearly out of his depths, and Isao contemplated how exactly a package could be ‘not precisely a package’. “Perhaps, my lord, it would be best if I showed you the package before attempting to explain?”

  Isao blinked. “Well… if you think it would be best.”

  Ichiro bowed deeply, and rose to retrieve the package, before suddenly hesitating and turning back to his lord. “Ah, if this one may make a suggestion?”

  Isao blinked again. Whatever the contents of this mysterious package-that’s-not-precisely-a-package were, it clearly had Ichiro flustered, which was definitely a sight to see. “You may.”

  “I would suggest that my lord’s honored wife would also find the contents of the ronin’s package… interesting.”

  The prince’s eyes narrowed slightly. “Is there a chance that the package could be dangerous?”

  “I am nearly certain it is not,” His shinobi responded promptly, “But I will admit the contents are somewhat mysterious, and their origin may be uncertain. However, I do not think the honored Princess would appreciate being excluded, once she finds out what the package contains.”

  Isao rubbed his chin slowly, then nodded. “Very well. Have my wife summoned here, and then go fetch the package. However, just in case there may be something dangerous within the package, I want you to ensure the Princess is doubly safe.”

  The shinobi bowed deeply again. “Understood, my lord.” And with that, he was gone.

  Several minutes later, Aika waddled gracefully into the room, one hand braced gently on the full swell of her belly. “You called for me, my lord husband?”