Dragon Sword and Wind Child

by Noriko Ogiwara

  Even Natsume stared at her in astonishment. Sensing a sudden gulf between them, Saya was overcome with a feeling of futility and, not knowing where to turn, looked at the little girl. The girl stared back at her, the whites of her eyes shining in her dirty face, as though Saya were the unusual sight.

  “Come with me,” Saya said warmly. “If you’ve lost your name, let me call you Fawn, because you were mistaken for a deer. My name shadow 217 is Saya. I was given that name when I was taken in myself—because the rustling of the bamboo grass where I was found sounded like, ‘saya, saya.’ At least, that’s what I was told.”

  Fawn returned to the fortifications with Saya and shared her quarters. Within a few days she settled down and adapted extraordinarily quickly to her new environment. She played without fear among the soldiers and flitted about with such innocent curiosity it was as if a baby sparrow had found its way into the camp. But no matter how often she was scolded, she never stopped rubbing her face with dirt. Saya, deciding that she must have some childish reason of her own, eventually gave up mentioning it.

  Dreary days of waiting followed for the people of Darkness. Everything seemed to go wrong, as the war dragged on in a stalemate that seemed insurmountable. An unseasonably cold and dismal drizzle set in as if even the weather were despondent. Absolving Chihaya from the false charges laid against him was not going to be an easy task, and Saya watched the days pass with a heavy heart. Fawn’s innocent antics were her only solace. And she was not the only one beguiled by her charms. Despite her dirty face, she was a winsome child, and the soldiers were happy to have her with them. For many she brought back memories of their own beloved daughters. The cruel winter drew near, and the thoughts of the soldiers, tired of fighting, turned toward the warm hearths of their homes far away.

  Looking out of her tent at the cold rain, Saya found her brooding thoughts returning repeatedly to the damp rocks near the spring and the cave lashed by the north wind. At that moment, she heard Fawn, who was playing inside the tent, dragging something toward her. Glancing casually over her shoulder, Saya was startled to see her holding the Dragon Sword, which she had stowed away safely. She wondered how the little girl could have found it.

  “What are you doing? Don’t touch that! You’ll be struck dead by lightning!”

  “No, I won’t. Nothing’s happened. I like it. I want it.”

  Saya hastily snatched it away. “Well, you can’t have it. It belongs to someone else. It isn’t yours, or mine, either. I’m just taking care of it until it’s time to give it back to its owner. Be a good girl and leave it alone.”

  “Whose is it?”

  Saya said solemnly, “It belongs to the person in the cave.”

  Fawn’s voice rose excitedly. “I know! The one everyone calls the Prince of Light, the one in the cage. That’s no fun. I’ll go find something else to do.” She ran out into the fine rain. Saya was about to stop her but thought better of it. She looked at the Sword in her hand and sighed, thinking that she had better find a different hiding place for it.

  After a while Fawn saw some soldiers under a shelter gathered around a fire roasting chestnuts, and she squirmed her way in eagerly. One of the men sat her on his lap, and they continued talking without taking any notice of her.

  “That’s all very well to say, but how can you execute someone who doesn’t die?”

  “But it’s obvious that he’s betraying us to Princess Teruhi. I can’t believe that she’s just hiding behind the shield of her troops. She must have infiltrated our line somewhere and is communicating with that traitor. If we don’t hurry up and put a stop to it, we’ll be murdered in our sleep.”

  “I’d feel much easier myself if he were dead, but even if we stopped giving him food or water he’d still survive . . .”

  “It makes my blood boil. He sits in that flooded cell as though nothing bothered him.”

  “The immortals killed my brother.”

  “They killed my father, too.”

  “Why should they be allowed to come back from death?”

  Just then Fawn said with childish innocence, “But there is a way to get rid of them for good.”

  The men stared at her in surprise, for it had never occurred to them that she was listening. Fawn looked back at them with wide eyes.

  “You want to make sure he doesn’t come back, right? My father told me once that there is a way.”

  The man holding her on his lap asked gently, “And what would that be, little one? What did your father say?”

  Fawn giggled as if it amused her. “You eat him. You chop him up like mincemeat and eat him. Then he won’t be immortal anymore and the people who eat him will live forever.”

  A strange expression crossed the faces of her listeners. They exchanged covert glances, but none of them spoke. Only Fawn seemed unconcerned, concentrating solely on the chestnuts she was poking in the fire.

  LORD IBUKI came to Saya. “Have you heard any strange rumors?” he asked her in an unusually gloomy tone of voice. “People are saying things that I can’t stand to hear. If I knew who started it, I’d have them hanged.”

  Saya put down her breakfast bowl and looked at him. “What kind of rumors? I don’t understand.”

  Fawn, sitting beside Saya with her nose in her porridge bowl, raised her face. “What does ‘have them hanged’ mean?”

  “Keep quiet and eat your breakfast,” Saya said and then turned back to Lord Ibuki. “What rumors are they to make you so angry?”

  “Never mind. You’re better off not knowing. I can’t even bear to repeat them.” He shook his head and left.

  THAT AFTERNOON Natsume entered Saya’s tent with a troubled expression. Fawn was outside playing, and Saya was alone.

  “My lady, it’s hard for me to say this, but . . .”

  “What is it? This isn’t like you.”

  “Well, actually it’s about Fawn. I don’t think it’s good for her to be with you.”

  Saya looked at her inquiringly. “Is the food shortage that bad?”

  “No, it isn’t that.” Natsume faltered, then, clasping and unclasping her hands repeatedly, finally said, “There’s something about her that disturbs me.”

  Saya was shocked and disappointed. “So all those who are not our kin will be shunned. First Chihaya, and now Fawn?”

  “No. That’s not what I mean. I, too, feel that Chihaya has been treated unjustly,” Natsume responded earnestly. “I’m ashamed that we have placed the blame on him. Of course, I understand how everyone feels—after all, I despised him, too, for a while wondering why he alone should come back from the dead. But that way of thinking is futile and mistaken. I know now that I can bear my grief without hating, thanks to this unborn child.”

  Natsume tenderly caressed her belly, which was beginning to swell; to Saya, her gesture seemed to embody the Goddess herself.

  “Whether it’s a boy or a girl, this child is Masaki. When it’s born, it will be the same as Masaki returning to life. Now I can believe that.”

  “That’s true,” Saya said with feeling. “Bear the child well, Natsume.”

  A grateful smile touched Natsume’s face, but then her expression suddenly clouded. “That girl, Fawn, no matter how I try, I can’t get her to recall her parents. She’s more like a little demon than a child born from a mother’s womb. Perhaps that’s what bothers me about her.”

  “She certainly has an impudent streak, but she can be sweet, too, you know,” Saya said.

  But Natsume shook her head. For someone so gentle-natured, she had taken an unusual aversion to the child. “Sometimes Fawn stares at me—with indescribably cold eyes. She has the look of one who brings evil.”

  “Are you sure you’re not exaggerating?”

  But Natsume continued. “Even dogs treat a pregnant bitch gently, don’t they? Although I’m of little use on the battlefield in this state, everyone treats me with kindness. It’s not conscious, but they instinctively honor the life they see inside me. I’m grateful and I do
n’t intend to take advantage of it. It’s just that the way she looks at me is so different from everyone else.”

  Saya felt uneasy, but at the same time she did not feel that this was enough reason to censure a five- or six-year-old child. “She’s so little she doesn’t understand. Without knowing it, she’s probably jealous of the baby.”

  “Perhaps you’re right . . .”

  Saya pleaded with her. “Please don’t hate Fawn. She’s like me when I was a child. When my parents in Hashiba adopted me, I’m sure I was just like her—bereft of loved ones, trusting no one, wild and rough. My parents took me in anyway and cared for me with love. We should be able to do the same for her.”

  Natsume exhaled quietly and seemed to reconsider. “Yes, my lady, you’re right. I’m sorry I troubled you over nothing.”

  Watching her rise heavily with a drawn look on her face, Saya thought that Natsume had probably become oversensitive, owing to the changes in her body. It can’t be healthy for her to be in such a brutal environment. If even I get depressed here, it can’t be good for Natsume.

  Leaving Saya’s quarters, Natsume passed behind the tent. Distracted by a stray lock, she stopped to remove a comb from her hair and fix her bun. Patting the stray wisps into place, she happened to look into a nearby grove of trees. Her hand froze with shock. In the crook of a tree, just at eye level, sat Fawn, swinging her legs back and forth. At a casual glance she appeared as cute as a doll, but the eyes that peered out from her grimy face were piercingly cruel.

  Speaking in a tone that did not match her childish voice, she said, “You’re a little too perceptive—perhaps because you bear two lives instead of one.” A faint, lopsided smile twisted her delicate lips. “It won’t do to have you meddling when Saya is so trusting. Just a little longer and I’ll be able to make the soldiers of Darkness do exactly as I wish.”

  The color drained from Natsume’s face. Backing away, she whispered, “Demon—you’re a demon in disguise!”

  “Far from it!” Fawn sprang lightly down from the tree. “By demons you mean the dirty little gods of field and mountain. You insult me. With extreme forbearance I have come to this squalid spot. But it’s exhausting, a waste of the powers of renewal.” Her bright pink tongue, like that of a kitten, flicked across her lips. “But two lives in one—now, that would help wash away this defilement.”

  Natsume, who had continued to edge away, wheeled around. Her hair, which had come loose again, fell down her back.

  “Are you going to run away?” Fawn inquired. “But where will you find help? Who will believe you?”

  Without waiting to hear more, Natsume ran for her life. Through the chill air, still damp with the recent rain, she ran as though possessed, trampling and scattering the sodden leaves, until she collided with a group of soldiers. They grabbed her in surprise and asked her what she was doing.

  “What’s the matter? If you tripped and fell, you could hurt the baby.”

  “Fawn—” Gasping for breath, Natsume babbled like someone demented. “Please. Help me. Fawn is going to kill me!”

  “You’re overwrought, Natsume. Though it’s no wonder, here in the middle of a war,” the soldiers replied with concern. “But you must stay calm, especially in your condition. You should lie down and take it easy. We’ll make you some herbal tea.”

  Despite her protests, they kept trying to soothe her. Their concern was real and, finally, unable to resist any longer, she allowed them to put her to bed in a nearby hut. But as soon as they had left, she fled once more.

  Her feet, driven by fear, turned at last toward the spring. Passing the pool made by a simple dam, she began to climb. There, surrounded by the bare rock, was the cold, barred cave.

  Chihaya sat gazing out through the bars at the distant river mouth, shrouded in mist. From his windy aerie he could clearly see the sandbar. Lonely waterfowl flew aimlessly beneath the low-lying gray clouds. He was attempting to capture the feelings of a bird when his view was suddenly blocked by a shadow. Surprised, he retuned to himself and saw Natsume on the other side of the bars. She sank to her knees and grasped the bars of his prison as though in entreaty.

  “Please! Help me! You must help me and the child I bear!”

  Chihaya frowned as he stared at her desperate face.

  “Help you? Why?”

  “The girl—she’s trying to kill me. Nobody believes me. But you—I know you’ll understand. Because you’re no ordinary man.”

  Chihaya looked troubled. “You’re right. I’m different from you. That’s why I’m in this prison.”

  “You have a right to be angered by the way we treated you. I and all my people are to blame. But this child within me is innocent. It has done you no harm. Please, for the sake of the child, protect me.”

  “But how . . .”

  Natsume picked up a sharp stone and tried to break the wedges that held the bars in place. “Please! Come out. These wooden bars shouldn’t stop a Prince of Light like you.”

  Alarmed, Chihaya said in a hushed voice, “Don’t do that. You’ll get me in trouble. If they find out that I’ve left the prison, your people will never trust me again.”

  Natsume began to weep. The tears streamed down her cheeks and splashed onto the rocks. “Will you desert me, then? When no mortal man can stand against her? When it is you alone who can match her?”

  “Don’t cry! Please!” Now it was Chihaya’s turn to become distressed. He was willing to do anything if she would just stop crying. “Calm down and tell me what you mean. I want to help you, but I don’t understand what’s going on.”

  But as she opened her mouth to speak, she suddenly reared back, staring up into space. Her outstretched arms flailed in a swimming motion. Chihaya leaped to his feet, shocked at the sight of fresh blood, and there behind her he saw a little girl gripping the hilt of the Dragon Sword, which was plunged deep into Natsume’s back, and bathing herself in the blood.

  “Natsume!”

  He thrust his arms through the bars to support her, but in vain. She crumpled slowly to the ground. The light in her eyes was swiftly fading and already she looked at Chihaya without seeing. After a convulsive shudder, she turned her sorrowful eyes toward him one last time and whispered beneath her breath, “Masaki.” Then she slumped lifeless to the ground.

  Chihaya gazed speechlessly over her body at the blood-drenched child. She beamed up at him and then, without a word, turned and ran.

  “Wait!”

  When he unconsciously applied pressure to the bars where his hands gripped them, they popped out easily. He had not time to wonder whether it was Natsume’s doing or his own as he rushed out of the prison in pursuit of the girl.

  She leaped lightly from rock to rock before him as though dancing through the air, and in three strides she had descended to the edge of the pool. She stripped off her soiled clothing and dived into the cold water. Chihaya pursued her to the edge of the pool but there he stopped. The girl showed no sign of haste as she stood chest-deep in the water, washing. When she raised her face, her skin shone pure white. Though childish, her countenance was as flawless as a jewel. She looked up at him and once again smiled gaily. Chihaya, taken aback, remained rooted to the spot. Next she began to wash her body. Each time she scooped the water, she grew taller. Her hair grew longer as he watched, and spread out upon the water. Her slender arms grew long and lithesome, her shoulders round and smooth, and her breasts swelled like ripe fruit. By the time she had finished bathing, she had undergone a transformation that would have taken a mortal a decade or more to complete. When she turned to climb out onto the bank, the water lapped just below her navel against the rounded hips and slender waist of a young woman.

  She rose shamelessly from the water and stood before Chihaya with her wet body exposed. And indeed there was no need to conceal her perfect form.

  “Sister,” Chihaya whispered.

  “An excellent cleansing. That feels better,” Princess Teruhi said as she combed her hair with her fingers. “I
t’s quite a skill to return to childhood. Perhaps because a child is weaker, one tires easily. Not to mention the bother of the lesser gods catching the scent of renewal.”

  “Why did you kill Natsume?”

  “Because two lives in one body are a very effective means for purification.”

  “Sister!”

  “You’re angry? You?” she said in surprise and looked hard at Chihaya. “You’ve changed. Even your appearance. I almost wouldn’t recognize you. How can that be when those of our line never change? But never mind. I’ve come to get you. Let’s leave harsh words for another time.”

  She smiled a not altogether unkind smile. “It was for your sake that I went to such lengths to penetrate the forces of Darkness. When all is said and done, you are, after all, my brother. If possible, I would rather not fight against you. Come back with me to the palace. Surely you’ve realized by now the foolishness of these people.”

  After a pause, Chihaya asked, “Was it you who directed this last attack?”

  “Yes. I slipped behind their lines in the guise of a girl and stirred the fools up a little. It was easy to twist them around my finger.” Leaning her back against a rock and folding her arms, the Princess continued, “And it was I who made sure that suspicion blew in your direction. And I again who shot you with the arrow. And just as I intended, the followers of Darkness have turned their backs on you. That’s the sort of people they are. You won’t be able to remain here any longer. For they’ll soon come to carve you into little pieces.”

  Chihaya looked at her in disbelief. “But why?”

  Princess Teruhi shrugged her white shoulders. “Because they’re base and savage. I only planted the seeds. They’re the ones who reaped the harvest.”

  Bending down, she picked up the Sword, which lay on the bank, and meticulously washed the blood off in the stream. Then, carefully inspecting the blade, she murmured, “It’s only a sword, an empty husk. You’ve broken the seals one after the other. So now do you know yourself ?”