The Dragon's Flower

by Wyn Estelle Owens

  Karigane would stand behind their Empress, as they always have.

  So Isao would be seeing Tatsuya soon enough, when those two met in order to begin planning for the war.

  However, the last country Isao needed to convince—Taura—was a bit of a distance, on the far side of Karigane from Nagisa. Tatsuya had offered the services of a small palace he owned by the sea, which was neatly half-way between Nagisa and Taura, in order for Isao to meet with Taura’s leader.

  Isao took a deep sip of his tea and swallowed it thoughtfully. Negotiations with Yamazaki and Miyukimura had gone well—Miyukimura had agreed readily with no stipulations at all, and Yamazaki had agreed with merely the request that Nagisa assist in the case of an attempted coup like the one Princess Katsumi had planned. Isao had no problems with that whatsoever, so the alliance was made.

  And now, one month later, he was in Karigane, preparing to meet with the Princess of Taura.

  He didn’t know much of her—she was supposedly around eighteen years old, and as yet unmarried, though there were rumors that stated she was in love and her unmarried status would soon change. She had been ruling for two years now, after having succeeded upon the death of her father, the late Shogun Shimuzu Kinsaborou, and she was said to be a loving and loyal ruler, and was renowned as a great healer. He only hoped she would be open to his proposal.

  The shoji slid open and in swept a vision clad in green and white, appropriate summer attire. She was tall and graceful, like a birch tree, and her hair was elegantly done and decorated with ornaments of gold.

  With delicate, smooth steps, she crossed the room to the table where he sat, and gracefully lowered herself onto a cushion. She bowed to him, and Isao bowed back, before locking eyes with her dark, obsidian orbs and sitting in silence.

  After a moment she tilted her head and said in a soft, sweet voice reminiscent of wind chimes, “My lord, I hope you had a pleasant journey.”

  “Indeed so,” Isao replied calmly, “I have always enjoyed sailing.”

  She smiled in response to that, and then looked down at where her hands were folded prettily in her lap. Her makeup was flawless, and her expression was the same—full of sweetness and light, but revealing nothing of what lay behind it.

  “Before you begin, Prince Hamasaki Isao of Nagisa,” She began, “I must confess I am aware of why you have called me here.”

  It took nearly every ounce of self control in Isao’s body to keep from blinking in surprise. “…and what do you think that reason is, Princess Shimizu Shiori of Taura?”

  The Princess of Taura hid a smile behind a green and gold fan and said, “Why, to form an alliance against Masaki and Akiyama and to restore the Emperor’s Heir to her rightful throne.”

  This time, it took every single scrap of self-control in his body to keep from dropping his jaw to the floor. Isao stared at her blankly. “How did you…”

  She flicked her fan closed and held it up commandingly, forestalling his words. “Before you go any further, good Prince Isao, allow me to tell you a story.”

  Confused and bewildered and suspicious, Isao nodded his assent.

  “You see,” She began, her voice gaining a slight lilting quality as she sank into her role as storyteller, “My country has, for centuries, been known for its herb-lore and knowledge and production of medicine. Indeed, the first Shogun of Taura, Ikesugi Hasumirou, was said to have been taught the ways of healing by the Immortal Goose herself. Despite the fact that the Ikesugi dynasty no longer rules, and my clan, the Shimizu, rule, I am myself descended from Hasumirou. My ancestor Shimizu Izumo, the first Shogun of my dynasty, took to wife a woman of the Ikesugi clan, a direct descendant of Shogun Hasumirou himself. It has become tradition within my country that all the Shoguns of Taura should know the arts of healing. So it was that ever since I was very small, I was taught how to heal, and how to gather herbs and turn them into medicines.”

  Isao blinked at her, still very confused as to what exactly this had to do with the current situation—namely, Princess Shiori knowing all of his plans without any discernible source for her information. However, she continued on, ignoring his befuddlement.

  “One day, when I was still small, my mother took me to a forest, to teach me to gather herbs. However, I quickly grew bored, and managed to elude the escort my honored father sent along with us. In the end I was hopelessly lost, and I stumbled upon a very pretty female deer, drinking from a stream. I called out a hello to it, and was completely surprised when it answered.” Isao’s eyes went wide despite his best efforts, and Shiori flicked her fan in front of her face.

  “The deer was very kind, and led me back to where my mother was waiting anxiously. I did not forget the strange deer’s kindness, and when we next visited the forest I managed to slip away again, in search of her.” She paused, and Isao leaned foreward slightly, enraptured by her tale.

  “I did find the deer, eventually, and we talked for some time. And we continued to do so, everytime I went back to the forest. And several years later I realized that my deer friend was actually Masuyo Kaoru the Deer, the patron spirit of my country.”

  “When I ascended to my father’s seat upon his death, Masuyo Kaoru-dono was of very great help, giving me the advice I sorely needed. And…” Her dark eyes peeked over the edge of her fan, and they gleamed and twinkled with amusement. “When I received a strange missive from the renowned Prince fo Nagisa, Masuyo Kaoru-dono explained the reasons behind his letter, and of the danger and hope that now lies before us.”

  Well, that made sense. Isao thought. At least he didn’t have a leak somewhere—it was just a celestial spirit blabbing.

  “And?” Isao pressed. “If you know what is at stake here, what is your answer?”

  She closed the fan with a snap and folded her hands in her lap as she stared absently at the painted screens against one wall. “I have… given it much thought, over the voyage here. And I realized that… my country, from Shogun Hasumirou to my father, Shogun Kinsaborou, and myself, has been a country renowned for its skills in healing. However, three hundred years ago, my country participated in damaging the peace between the Seven Realms and destroying the Imperial throne. That is not who we are—we are healers, not destoryers. So, I believe it is time for Taura to assist in healing that which we once destroyed.” She turned back to face Isao, and for once smiled without hiding it behind her fan.

  “Taura stands behind its Empress, and it will fight with Nagisa and its sister countries in defense of its long-awaited Empress.”

  *****

  Isao came into his study, hoping to get some work done, only to find a fox lounging on top of his writing desk.

  He stopped and stared at it, and the fox blinked open its golden eyes, watching the prince with interest.

  Isao looked at the fox, his look flatter than the rice paddies of Karigane. “Get off my desk, Fox.”

  Akashi Keiji’s eyes gleamed with amusement, and obligingly he stood and stretched, before daintily leaping to the floor. “I see my sister and brother are quite right, young prince. You are indeed a rather interesting child.”

  Isao raised an eyebrow. “And what is that supposed to mean?”

  “Why, what do you think it means?” The Fox responded, grinning. Isao narrowed his eyes, but decided to ponder the matter at a later time.

  “I assume you didn’t come in here, Akashi Keiji-dono, merely because my desk is a comfortable place to nap?” He said dryly.

  The Fox was a Man, and the Man settled himself comfortably on a cushion. “Well, your desk is rather comfortable, but no, I did have another reason for coming in here.”

  Isao finished tidying his desk and set his papers aside—if his guess was correct, whatever errand the Fox spirit was on, it was bound to require all of his attention.

  “Firstly, I want to congratulate you on your efforts in gathering all the nations together. My exalted father is particularly pleased. However, there was one small matter that your plan overlooked.”

&
nbsp; Isao’s spine stiffened, and he schooled his features into a mask in an effort to hide his anxiety. “How much effect does this matter have on the plan?”

  “It’s nothing major, in the present, at least,” Akashi Keiji said, “And nor does it have any adverse effects for the near future, however, it is important if you wish for harmony to be restored once the war is won.”

  “And what would it be?” Isao asked.

  “You have been very meticulously creating alliances with Yamazaki, Miyukimura, Taura, and Karigane, though I doubt you went to much effort for the last one.” Akashi Keiji said with an approving smile. “But I am curious—what exactly are your plans for Akiyama and Masaki, once the Empress is safely seated upon the throne?”

  Isao froze. The only words going through his mind were I’m an idiot.

  “No, you’re not an idiot.” Akashi Keiji said, his voice colored in amusement. “Indeed, I daresay you are one of the cleverest mortals I have met in my lifetime. You merely were focused so hard on the immediate problem—that is, defeating Katsumi of Akiyama and Tsuneo of Masaki—that you happened to overlook what would need to be done once they are dead. Single-minded focus on a goal is something all are prone to fall prey to at times—even Celestials.”

  The Clever One tilted his head to one side, his golden eyes shimmering with calm curiosity. “Now, though, that you have seen through your oversight… what do you plan to do?”

  Isao tapped his fingers thoughtfully on the wood of his writing desk, furrowing his brow in thought. “I… as far as Masaki goes, I am not available to be heir. I have my duties here, and I cannot be Shogun of two lands.”

  “And your brother, Shichiro, will be Emperor by then, if all goes as it should.” Akashi Keiji added. “He cannot be Shogun of Masaki.”

  Isao frowned, dipping his head in acknowledgment. “And of the rest of my sisters and brothers—I would trust none of them with the responsibility, save—” His voice trailed off.

  Akashi Keiji tilted his head to one side. “Save?”

  Was it possible? Isao pondered. Would she be up for it?

  “Save for, perhaps…” he said slowly and carefully, “My youngest sister, Manami.”

  “Ahhhh…’ Akashi Keiji drew out thoughtfully. “She is the daughter of your father’s first wife, is she not?” At Isao’s nod, Akashi Keiji smiled. “Well, that would make her the most advantageously placed heir in the options… I must confess, I know very little about her, save that my brother likes her. Do you think she is capable of being the ruling Princess?”

  Isao looked down at the dark wood of his desk, drawing his fingers into a fist and watching the slow whitening of the skin around his knuckles as he wrestled with himself. He was her elder brother, sworn to protect her, and if he put her in this position, he could not take her safely under his wing as he had planned. He would be sending her off on her own, into a potentially hostile court, and she was so young.

  However, she had wit and cleverness and strategic intelligence, and she knew the ways of masks and illusions—he had made sure she did. And she would be the Emperor’s sister, and the sister of the future Shogun of Masaki.

  And besides all that, she had heart and compassion. She… she would be a good Princess. He would just have to make sure she had good companions and loyal supporters to stand at her side.

  “Yes.” Isao said, and sealed Manami’s fate. “She would be a great Princess indeed.”

  Akashi Keiji nodded, and it was settled. “Well then, I shall have to tell my brother of Masaki the good news, and he will begin to prepare the way.”

  Isao nodded. “Yes. I… I have some thoughts on that same subject myself. After all, I know of several noble houses and samurai clans and families that do not fully support what my old father is doing.”

  “Excellent.” The Clever One said. “Now… about Akiyama.”

  Isao winced. “Yes, Akiyama.” He fidgeted and said, “I must confess, Akashi Keiji-dono, I do not know enough about the individual members of the Fujioka to know who would be an adequate heir.”

  Akashi Keiji laughed. “I wouldn’t expect you to. In fact, you know far more about the Fujioka and their internal dealings than I expect anyone who is not from Akiyama does. They’re trained from the moment they can speak in the art of secrets and deception. However… I do have a candidate in mind.”

  “And how do you know they’re suitable?” Isao asked curiously.

  The Clever One smirked. “Simple. I’ve been training him for this very instance since the day he turned five years old.”

  Isao gaped at him.

  “You see, young prince, my brothers and sisters and I, we never abandoned your countries.” Akashi Keiji quirked an eyebrow, “Tell me, O Prince of Shinobi: just because you do not see something, does that mean there is nothing there?”

  The prince shook his head. The Fox, in turn, smiled, but it had a faint, melancholy edge to it, and he stared out the window.

  “Long ago, the emperors took a turn for worst, and the seven lands fell sick, and enmity rose between them and broke the bonds that bound them together. The last emperor was good an honorable, but he came too late and the damage had already been done. The blow that struck him—the Heavenly Emperor’s anointed—down was a declaration that the Seven Nations had no more use for the Guardians. So, we sank into the background, out of their sight.” Slowly, he lifted a cup to his lips and took a long sip. In the back of Isao’s mind, he wondered where exactly the teacup had come from, but dismissed that question for later.

  “However, we are Guardians, whether the peoples of the Seven Kingdoms want us or not. We cannot be other than what we are, than what we were born to be. So we continued to help and guard, to aid and protect, but secretly and subtly, working in the shadows. But then! Then Hanako was born.” A smile spread across his face.

  “We had waited for so long, you know,” he said wistfully, staring down into his teacup. “Oh, I know that sounds silly to you, considering that three hundred years isn’t that great of a stretch of time when one is immortal and all,” The Fox said, waving a hand.

  Isao wondered what on earth it would be like to talk about your own immortality with dismissive hand gestures. He was getting used to the spirit’s presence in his palace, but every so often the Fox would do something that would remind Isao of Akashi Keiji’s pure… otherness, for lack of a better word.

  “Still, immortals and mortals are the same in the fact that when you are eagerly anticipating something, the wait seems to stretch out into all eternity. For three hundred years, we had attended the birth of every child of the line of the Emperors, and then the night came when Hanako was born.” The Clever One’s eyes gleamed as he stared out the window again, his mind on a day years ago.

  “We were all there, gathered and waiting. But then the Presence of the Heavenly Emperor filled the room, and we began to hope. And when the child was born, she bore the Mark of the Emperor upon her. Fuyume, Hanako’s mother, she… she felt the presence of the Heavenly Emperor, and she saw us—without us revealing our presence. So we told her who her daughter was destined to be, and we blessed Hanako.”

  The Fox took another sip of tea, and his smile was sad. “She died several months later, but she died happy and hopeful that her child would be happy and bring peace to the lands. She was a kind and gentle soul, very much like our own little empress.”

  “Now, to the point of the story,” The fox said, tapping a finger on the rim of his teacup. “When Hanako was born, I knew what it was—a sign that change was coming to the seven lands. That the Imperial throne would be restored, and peace would return, and the balance would be righted. And I instantly knew that that pretending murderess of a Princess that currently holds the seat of the Shogun would have to go. For the sake of my father’s trailing whiskers, Katsumi is not even Fujioka herself! Scheming, heartless, grasping…” His muttering trailed off into something beyond the strength of Isao’s mortal ears, even though he tried his best to hear. He was hoping
he might learn some new words to refer to his brother’s honored mother-in-law.

  “Anyway!” Akashi Keiji perked up after a minute. “As I was saying, I began looking amongst the children of the Fujioka clan in search of a proper heir, along the lines of Fujioka Nagito, the First Fujioka Shogun. Now he was an honorable man. If only his great-great-great-grandson hadn’t married that horrendous woman, Ishiko…” He was about to trail off into mutters again, so Isao coughed pointedly.

  The Clever One acted as if he hadn’t heard it, but he did immediately switch back onto the subject at hand. “So I began to look for someone worthy to lead—one who had a pure heart, and knew the value of compassion. It took a year of searching, but at last I found one who I was searching for.”

  “And that is?” Isao asked.

  Akashi Keiji smiled, fondness flitting over his features. “His name is Fujioka Masahiko, and he is the second cousin, once removed, of Princess Katsumi’s husband (may the Heavenly Emperor allow him entrance to His train), so he even has a good claim to the seat. I found him a year after Hanako’s birth, more or less, when he was five years old. He was very clever and understanding for one so young, and he snuck food out to a starving child on the streets, and managed to work it so the girl got a job in the palace. So I approached the lad and took him under my tutelage and my wing (figuratively speaking, of course. Only mother and sister Chiharu Rie have wings).

  I have taught him the ways of the Heavenly Emperor, and of how to be a good shogun, and how to love his people and walk on straight paths.” The Fox reached into the volume of his sleeve and withdrew a scroll, sealed with a crest unfamiliar to him (describe crest later).