Dragon Sword and Wind Child

by Noriko Ogiwara

  “Ho!” said Lord Ibuki, wiping the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand. “It’s you. You’re the best sword fighter among the lot of us. Why don’t you teach this lazybones some of your secrets?”

  Lord Shinado was close enough that Saya could see him clearly as he turned his gaze slowly toward Chihaya. Unaware that he was observed, he let the feelings that he usually kept carefully concealed cross his face for an instant: stabbing hatred and malice.

  Chilled, Saya fervently hoped that Lord Ibuki would not give him the wooden sword. But Lord Shinado smiled coldly and shook his head.

  “I haven’t the skill to teach someone who doesn’t know death. For how could he ever understand the meaning of the words ‘to fight for one’s life’?”

  “Ahh—I see.” Lord Ibuki looked at Chihaya in surprise. Apparently, it was the first time this thought had ever occurred to him.

  Lord Shinado added casually, “Why not try giving him a few mortal injuries? He might just become a little more like us.”

  He left the shade of the tree and began to walk away. As he passed, he happened to glance in Saya’s direction. Incensed by his suggestion, she blurted out, “How can you say such a horrible thing?”

  A faint look of surprise crossed his face. Perhaps because she had caught him off guard, he suddenly seemed vulnerable and easily hurt, and she realized that he was not as old as she had first thought. The grave expression he usually wore made him look as old as Lord Akitsu, but he might not even be thirty.

  After a brief pause, he said in a low voice, “When I was about your age, Teruhi’s troops slaughtered my mother and father before my very eyes. The entire village was massacred, wiped out. Though wounded, I escaped and vowed that someday I would take revenge on the Children of Light. If I could kill them by tearing them limb from limb, I would gladly do it, but they’re immortal. So I keep on fighting, hoping that the day will come when I can mete out suitable punishment. No matter how you may insist that the hands of that fool over there are clean, he’s one of them. To ask that I stop hating them is to demand the impossible.”

  Turning his back on her, he added simply, “You should know. You have the same history as I.”

  Saya winced as she watched him leave. He’s right. We share the same background, she thought. Perhaps that was why his words always seemed to sting her.

  Chihaya continued practicing halfheartedly, showing no sign of improvement. One day, Saya, unable to bear it any longer, turned to Lord Akitsu, who had come to watch, and said, “It’s ridiculous to tell Chihaya to fight. It has never occurred to him to attack or wound someone. This whole business is foolish.”

  “But he’s doing quite well.” The one-eyed lord smiled and rubbed his chin as he watched the master and his pupil. “Lord Ibuki’s patience is paying off.”

  “What do you mean, ‘quite well’?” Saya said acidly.

  “You want proof ?” The lord strung his bow with the swiftness of a seasoned archer. Then, drawing an arrow from the quiver on his back, he fit it to the bowstring. “Watch. Don’t make a sound.”

  Just as Chihaya sprang away from Lord Ibuki, the arrow flew whining through the air. Saya’s breath caught in her throat, but in the same instant Chihaya nimbly dodged the arrow as if it were a bird in flight, and it whizzed past. After a slight pause, he looked toward them in surprise.

  “You could have hit him!” Saya screamed. But Lord Akitsu shook his head.

  “No. I knew he could dodge it. He must have acquired such instinct through his many experiences in animal form. That’s why he can evade even Lord Ibuki’s skilled sword arm despite being such a poor fighter. I wish I could have shown you the kind of agility he displayed when he possessed the stag.” Lord Akitsu smiled more grimly than before. “That youth conceals a power that neither he nor those around him comprehend. He’s like the Dragon Sword.”

  Saya, however, was so upset that his words did not reach her. She was furious that he had shot so casually at Chihaya.

  “If that were your son, would you have shot at him without a second thought? Even if you were certain he could dodge the arrow?”

  Lord Akitsu seemed surprised at the rage that shook her voice. “Are you trying to tell me that there was any danger of killing him? But he—”

  “Cannot die, right? I know. It’s obvious that to you Chihaya is merely a weapon of war that has conveniently fallen into your hands. You’re no different from Lord Shinado. Maybe you’re even worse.”

  Unable to stand it any longer, she turned her back on him and ran away. She did not know why she had exploded, but once her anger was spent, she was overcome with a deep sadness.

  Torihiko flew after her, flapping his wings. “Everyone’s shocked. No one here would dare to criticize Lord Akitsu to his face.”

  Without responding, Saya picked up her wooden sword from where it was leaning against the fence. She stared at it for a moment and then threw it to the ground with all her might. “I hate this! It would have been better if we had never come here.”

  Torihiko, who had hastily escaped to the top of the fence, looked down at her in concern. “What a temper! What’s the matter, Saya?”

  “I don’t want to go to war. And because of me, Chihaya will be caught up in it, too.”

  “But he wanted to come.”

  “It was my fault.”

  “No,” Torihiko said, his black eyes glittering. “It was the Sword. We are all being made to dance by the Sword.”

  5

  ON THE DAY the army was to march forth, Saya was surprised to see Natsume dressed like a warrior complete with armored breastplate. She no longer wore her hair up but instead had tied it in tight loops above her ears like the men.

  “I have no intention of entrusting you to the care of a manservant. After all, it takes a woman to understand another woman’s needs.”

  “For me there’s no choice,” Saya protested. “I must go to war. But there’s no need for you to come, too. That would be crazy. Don’t even think of it.” She was determined to dissuade her. Knowing that Natsume was with child, she could not bear to think of her involved in battle. “Stay here and defend what must be defended, just like you said you would.”

  Natsume smiled, but it was the kind of smile that proclaimed she would not budge.

  “I’ll be fine. Please let me go with you. I’m only in my third month, and I can still move easily. If this baby can’t take it, it isn’t worthy to be our child.”

  When Saya continued to protest, Natsume said frankly, “My lady, I wish to go for my own sake also. So that I can be with my husband. He’s one of Lord Akitsu’s guards.”

  Questioning her more closely, Saya learned that Natsume’s husband, Masaki, was a friendly young guard whom she had met sometimes on top off the cliff.

  “We often talk about you, my lady.”

  “That’s not fair. You never told me. It never occurred to me that he was married,” Saya said, feigning disappointment. Natsume laughed delightedly.

  Having combed her long hair, Saya followed Natsume’s example and fastened it in loops, one on either side of her head. She then donned a pair of red trousers and tied each leg below the knee with a cord decked with silver bells. She alone was allowed to wear red, a sign that she was the one and only priestess of her people. Fastening a white headband around her forehead as a symbol of purity, she finished her preparations and, grasping the sheathed Dragon Sword in her hand, went to bid farewell to Lady Iwa, who was staying behind.

  Lady Iwa sat motionless upon a mat in the middle of her stone chamber as though lost in meditation. The room seemed rather large and empty. When she noticed Saya, she raised her eyes and gazed at her red and white apparel. “You leave for war,” she said quietly, “but a warlike spirit does not become you. Never forget that. Do you have the Quelling Stone?”

  “Quelling Stone? Oh, you mean Princess Sayura’s magatama.” Saya nodded and pulled the sky blue stone from inside her collar, where it hung on a leather thong about
her neck. “As you can see, I always wear it.”

  “It is not Sayura’s. That magatama belongs to you,” Lady Iwa said somewhat sternly. “You must carry it with you at all times, for it is part of the Water Maiden, part of you. Never having experienced its power, you can’t be expected to understand, but you’ll need it to quiet unruly spirits. It is the Water Maiden’s ability to appease that makes her the Priestess. It is this same ability that gives her the power to still the Dragon Sword. And not only the Sword: she has the power to calm any god and call forth its peaceful spirit.”

  Saya’s eyes widened. “Is that really true?”

  “Yes, but only if your own spirit remains unmoved,” Lady Iwa replied discouragingly. “War rouses and agitates wild spirits throughout the land. In the midst of battle, it’s very hard for just one person to stay calm, something I’m sure you’ll experience many times in the days to come.”

  Saya reflected ruefully that she did not have much confidence in her ability in the first place, and that as for war, she was certainly not going by choice. If she could have stayed behind, she would gladly have crawled into bed and stayed put with the covers drawn over her head. “Lady Iwa,” she suddenly blurted out, “why do we have to fight? I still don’t understand. Why? And why does Chihaya have to be thrown into battle?” She knew once she had begun that she was treading on dangerous ground, but having started, she could not stop. She continued in a small voice, “I know it’s too late to say this. But Chihaya—Chihaya doesn’t know how to say no. And so he’ll be carried along and try to do what others want him to, to fight. And I—I can’t bear that.”

  Lady Iwa’s large eyes gazing up at her were like two dark pools. No matter how hard one might try, one could never glimpse what lay at the bottom. But for a moment Saya thought she saw within them a glimmer of sympathy. The old woman answered slowly, “I belong to the people of Darkness. There’s nothing I can do. I would do anything for the sake of my people regardless of the consequences. But . . .” She paused to consider, and then continued, “Someday you’ll understand. Right now, we’re caught up in the tide of history. If we don’t follow the flow, we’ll never learn where it leads.”

  Saya remained silent. She was ready now to accept Lady Iwa’s words with an open heart. When she uttered a formal farewell, the old woman nodded. “You’re so young to be our one and only priestess. That grieves me, yet I cannot take your place. You must go. Surely there must be some meaning in your very youth.”

  Saya left the inner chamber and went into the great hall. There she saw Lord Akitsu, clad in black armor, and with him Chihaya, likewise dressed as a warrior. She felt herself recoil at the sight. It was as if she were looking at Prince Tsukishiro on the night she had first met him. When she examined Chihaya more closely, however, she realized that he wore a far from splendid iron helmet and his black-lacquered armor was studded with crude rivets. He looked bored, showing no sign of youthful excitement. Still her first impression continued to plague her, plunging her into an odd mood.

  “Saya,” Lord Akitsu said solemnly. “Give him the Dragon Sword.”

  She stepped forward, still puzzled by the sudden awe she felt toward Chihaya. “Your armor looks so heavy,” she teased him, trying to conceal her confusion.

  “Mmm,” he nodded, making no attempt to impress anybody. “But this sword is light,” he added as he took it from her hands. “That’s a help.”

  Saya saw the surprise on Lord Akitsu’s face as she stood beside him. The Dragon Sword was a long, heavy broadsword. She sighed and thought, When it comes down to it, I’m the one who drew Chihaya into this war. No matter how much I wish I hadn’t, it’s my own fault.

  Several hundred soldiers had already gathered and stood in organized ranks before the entrance. Black-helmeted, they carried shields emblazoned with whirlpools in bright and varied colors, and each held a new bow or spear. As Lord Akitsu passed through the gate they gave a great cheer, greeting their general with a twanging of bowstrings and a beating of shields. Applause rose, too, from the crowd of people who were to remain behind from where they had gathered beyond the soldiers. Saya attempted to slip through after Lord Akitsu but was so startled to be greeted with a similar uproar that she almost stopped in her tracks. Whether she liked it or not, she realized that she had no choice but to accept her station. She was the Priestess of her people. Garbed in red, she must live for each one of them on behalf of the Goddess. Just as their general, Lord Akitsu, belonged to them and not to himself. And in return, they would, without exception, throw down their lives for her sake. She was overwhelmed at being thrust so suddenly into this position. Realizing that she was not even a tenth as prepared as she had thought, she feared for the future.

  Under Lord Akitsu’s command, the company split into groups when the sun had set and rowed out in small boats onto the dark sea. The other lords and commanders parted from them, heading back to their homelands to raise troops. The greatest rising of the people of Darkness had quietly begun.

  THREE DAYS LATER, Lord Akitsu and his soldiers were heading toward the pastures, concealing themselves in the shadow of the mountains.

  “Saya!” Chihaya exclaimed in wonder just after they had crossed the mountain pass. “There are horses. A whole herd galloping.”

  Saya could see nothing. Before them lay only an unbroken line of low hills and quiet meadows beneath the darkening sky.

  “Yes. A herd of rare and magnificent horses,” said Lord Akitsu, despite the fact that he could not see them. “Would you like one?” “Yes,” Chihaya answered simply.

  “This place is under the direct jurisdiction of the Palace of Light and usually so well guarded it would be beyond our grasp. Now, however, they’re so preoccupied with rebuilding the palace that the guards are thinly spread. We’ll split into two groups and attack the barracks, you understand?”

  Saya tugged at Chihaya’s sleeve. “Listen, don’t even think of becoming one of those horses. This is important.”

  Chihaya nodded. “There were many horses in the palace stables but I never possessed one. It wouldn’t do to confuse a trained warhorse.”

  Lord Akitsu asked Chihaya tensely, “You seem to be able to communicate with animals. Can you call that herd of horses to you?”

  “I couldn’t call them all at once.”

  “There must be a leader. If he came, the rest would follow.”

  “That I could do.”

  “Good.” Lord Akitsu continued without pause, “First we must destroy the shrine mirror. While one group attacks the barracks, throwing our foes into confusion, the other group will skirt the wood and hit the shrine. Then this land will once again be ours. As long as the mirror remains intact, we might as well be face-to-face with the immortal Children of Light.”

  Next he looked at Saya. “I leave the work of pacification in your hands.”

  Startled, Saya stammered, “But—but what should I do?”

  “Invoke the aid of the Goddess, just as you do to still the Dragon Sword. I’ve no intention of throwing the two of you into battle. I’ll leave some stalwart men to protect you. Move cautiously and don’t leave Chihaya’s side.”

  Under his rapid directions, the warriors moved as one, then split up and disappeared into the shadows. Saya caught sight of Masaki among the “stalwart men” and, for the first time, felt somewhat relieved. His amiable young face, even in this place, seemed unchanged. But still she could not suppress her shivering or the goose bumps on her skin. Perhaps because she looked so pitiful, Masaki looked at her and came over to whisper, “Be easy, my lady. Victory is certain. All you have to do is to remain calm.”

  Battle cries rose as flaming arrows arced through the air, and the barrack’s thatched roofs burst into flame. The battle had been joined. The sharp clash of metal on metal and the tumult of voices rose from the ground like a stagnant mist. Saya’s group, which was positioned in the rear guard behind those attacking the shrine, immediately began to move forward. Saya could no longer see Lord Akit
su and his men, who had rushed into the barracks brandishing their weapons. She could not take her eyes from Chihaya’s sword, but it was impossible to tell if the occasional gleam of red in the hilt stones was a glow from within or merely a reflection of the flames of destruction.

  Chihaya suddenly laughed aloud. Saya raised her head in surprise, for not only did he rarely laugh, but their present circumstances were anything but amusing. “What’s so funny?”

  “I’ve never seen such a horse! He’s fearless.”

  His face, which glowed faintly in the flickering light of the flames, was animated and filled with eagerness. He turned to the frowning Saya, saying, “He’s the leader of the herd. A magnificent horse. I wish I could show him to you, Saya. He’s as black as coal. And on his forehead is a single star—like the morning star.”

  Listening to him, she thought for an instant that she could see a fleet-footed black horse with a star on its forehead, a proud, spirited young stallion roaming across the pastures. But she quickly pushed the image from her mind.

  “Well, it’s nice to be so carefree when everyone else is fighting for their lives!” she snapped. At that moment she saw fingers of flame rise from behind the trees in front of her, making their pointed black silhouettes stand out in stark relief. The shrine had fallen.

  She struggled to fight down a dizziness and something that rose within her like a frightened bird. For Saya, the desecration of the grove, the defilement of the sacred precinct of the mirror, was still almost physically painful. For an instant she felt the awful gaze of Princess Teruhi fixed upon her where she cowered in the shadow of the trees with Chihaya by her side.

  Perhaps her anxiety communicated itself directly to the Sword for, as if he had only just become aware of her, Chihaya suddenly asked, “What is it, Saya? The Sword moans.”

  “The mirror has been broken.” The words rushed from her as though she were delirious. “Something—something’s coming!”

  What it was she had no idea, but it was palpable. She felt it rise from the midst of the darkness, radiating menace. Gradually it took shape— like a swarm of bees forming a cloud, like a lump of fat congealing. They must escape, now, a voice within Saya urged insistently.