The Twelve Kingdoms: Dreaming of Paradise

by Fuyumi Ono

  Taiki giggled. Tansui was standing by the door pretending as he always did that he was overhearing none of this. Still, he did look a bit downcast.

  "Well, I'm going to take off for a while," Taiki said.

  He left the tall, grand building and Tansui followed after him without a word. Taiki headed straight for the "North" palace complex. When Seitaku wasn't busy with business, he could usually be found on his farm. When Taiki arrived at the fields, sure enough, there was Seitaku in his peasant garb.

  "A good day to you!"

  His utterly unaffected smile and manner always delighted Taiki. Given a minute of spare time during his official and ceremonial duties and here is where Seitaku would come. Taiki had been "helping out" from the start. Not so much really working as wandering around, and getting things for Seitaku when he asked for it.

  Taiki had no experience doing any kind of farm work. He wasn't sure what even constituted "help" in the first place. Going this way and that and following Seitaku's directions wasn't a whole lot different from what he did back in Tai.

  "I must be getting in your way a lot," he said, gathering up a pile of prunings he had run into and knocked over.

  "Not at all," Seitaku's smile assured him.

  Taiki had the impression that this king never stopped smiling. "I know I'm a pain in the neck, but since we have to leave tomorrow, I was hoping you could put up with me for another day."

  "You're not a pain in the neck in the slightest. When I was a kid, I worked alongside the people in the village and learned the ropes the same way you are now." He added with a bright grin. "Ah, but I guess learning how to be farmer won't do you a lot of good. And here I am running you around in circles."

  "It's nothing like that. I think it's really fun helping you out like this."

  He was telling the truth. This was the first time he had ever seen farming up close, so he found it very interesting. It felt nice moving about in the warm breeze. Watching Seitaku working so energetically gave him a good feeling as well.

  More than anything, Seitaku's easy-going attitude made him fun to be around. Taiki didn't understand the logic of this world or the reasoning of adults. Just being around adults all the time was the most stressful job he could imagine.

  Taiki said dejectedly, "But I was thinking that if I was getting in the way, I could always go somewhere else—"

  Seitaku tilted his head to the side. "Did something happen?"

  "Something happen?" Taiki echoed.

  "If I asked you to help me, then I shouldn't think that you were also in the way. So why would you ask such a question?"

  "Because—I really can't do anything."

  "You gathered up all those prunings, didn't you? Helped fetch the water, carried all that straw—"

  "All I did was carry it."

  "That alone constitutes help, doesn't it? When you talk like that, it makes me think you don't see yourself as being very useful."

  Seitaku looked at him with his clear, warm eyes. Taiki nodded. "I don't want to think so, but I'm afraid it's true."

  "Why is that?"

  "Because I'm so totally useless. Not just farming. Everything. Gyousou-sama says it's just because I'm small, but I can tell I'm a disappointment to everybody."

  "Really?" Seitaku asked. Taiki nodded his head. Seitaku patted him on the back. "Why don't we take a break?" he said, indicating a pile of hay.

  "No, we can keep working."

  "Well, I'm pooped. How about some tea?" Seitaku directed his voice at the levy bordering the adjacent rice field where Tansui had withdrawn to observe from a comfortable distance. "Hey, Mr. Bodyguard, would you like some tea too?"

  Tansui waved his hand, declining the offer.

  "Not a job I'd want to have, sitting around like that all the time," Seitaku said, getting out a big earthenware teapot. "I used to think it'd be tough being a bodyguard because it was dangerous. But times like this, when there's no danger at all, could be just as bad."

  "Yeah," Taiki laughed. But the smile quickly faded. Staring into the teacup Seitaku passed him, he said, "So there's a difference between your job and your duty—"

  "That's right."

  "When I heard that, I thought it must be true. The duty of the kirin is to pick the king. I've done my duty. It'd be nice if I could just do my job the best I knew how. Except as Saiho, as Province Lord, I'm too small to really do anything."

  "I've always thought the kirin's duty was to act with compassion."

  "Not choose the king?"

  "Choosing the king is one aspect of that, is it not? Choosing the ruler who will best serve the people?"

  "So there's still a duty left for me to perform."

  "I would say so."

  "Then what is a kirin's job?"

  "Taiki's job is to grow up." Seitaku smiled. "That's the job of every child, isn't it?" He plucked a red kasho from a low-hanging limb and placed it in Taiki's palm. "You've got a lot on your mind. And that's part of your job too. As is eating and sleeping and crying and laughing.

  Taiki looked at the bright, red fruit in his hand. "But is that enough? The people of Tai are in a bad state. Tai is very cold in the winter. A lot of people are suffering amidst all that snow. Even though I'm Saiho and Province Lord, there's nothing I can give them. Just growing up with nothing to offer—"

  Seitaku interrupted, "I'm no great leader of men myself. A mere farmer who can hardly make heads nor tails of politics and government. Renrin's got a talent for that sort of thing, so I leave it up to her. Looking after the crops and livestock is about the best I can do."

  "Even when you're the king?"

  "I guess so," Seitaku laughed. "That's why I built this farm. It's the one way I know to make myself useful. Having plowed under the royal gardens, and thinking about the time and effort it takes to keep things all shipshape, I thought I should do my part to defray the public expenditures of money. At the very least, it'd be cheaper and easier than buying from the stores in Juurei."

  "So it's like you're paying your room and board."

  "Exactly," Seitaku answered with an earnest nod. "You can't live without somebody paying for your upkeep. I'm a farmer, see? That duty was given to me by the kingdom. But there's no way I'd be able to pay the wages of all the officers and officials, or afford the silk ceremonial robes, or wine and dine the guests of honor. That's why even Renrin tells me that I cannot limit myself to what only I can afford with my own labor. It seems the kingdom would lose prestige in the process."

  "That makes sense."

  "As it turns out, I'm not all that useful either. But if there is a Tentei, then he surely would have foreseen my shortcomings."

  Taiki gazed up at Seitaku, taken aback by this statement.

  "If a farmer like myself is to be the king, then that must have what Heaven had in mind all along. So not doing anything must be what I was destined to do. Tending to a kingdom seems to me a lot like tending to my crops."

  "Tending to a kingdom—"

  "A tree will grow just fine if left according to its own devices. And perhaps a kingdom will too. The tree knows what's best for the tree. All I can do is lend a helping hand. If the leaves wither, for example, I take that as a sign to add water. I think a kingdom is much the same. In other words, that is the kind of husbandry Heaven was looking for, and that is why Heaven chose a farmer."

  "And the Ren Taiho? When you're making yourself useful like this, how does she help out?"

  "Not at all," Seitaku responded with a smile. "Renrin isn't a farmer. She doesn't know the difference between a weed and a flower, or when to water and when not to water."

  "So there's nothing she can do?"

  "Hardly," Seitaku said brightly. "She can take delight when the harvest comes in."

  "That's all?" Taiki said disbelievingly.

  "That is no small thing. When it's cold outside and I'm tired and working in the fields is the last I want to do, when I think of the harvest going to waste and Renrin's disappointment, I buck myself
up and put my shoulder to the wheel." Seitaku gazed at the orchard. "I am standing watch over the kingdom. Watching for hints of a bad weather. Watching for wells running dry. That is the duty of a guardian. The Taiho watches me in the same way. Making sure I am doing my duty. Watching for signs of hidden rot. Having eyes to see is very much something."

  Standing watch. Taiki turned the words over in his mind. "I could do the same thing. Just that."

  "It's not just that. You're like your bodyguard there. Standing watch is no small responsibility."

  He's right, Taiki thought, sneaking a peek at Tansui. At times like this, Tansui stood watch from a safe distance and kept his eyes peeled.

  "Staying on your toes, keeping your mind alert—that's a pretty impressive accomplishment, don't you think?"

  "Yeah," Taiki nodded.

  "Do you think Gyousou-sama would be happy about me standing and watching?"

  "Of course," Seitaku answered pleasantly. "I don't understand government or what kirin do, but when it comes to being a king and being a farmer, I get that. I think the Royal Tai as well will put a lot of faith in what you see with your own two eyes."

  I wonder, Taiki said to himself. He had a hard time believing Gyousou would ever put such faith in a child like himself.

  "If I am the watchman for this kingdom, then Renrin is the one who watches over me. Perhaps that is the true calling of the kirin."

  Chapter 14

  Taiki and the others returned to Kouki a little more than a month after leaving Tai. The capital was buried beneath a blanket of snow. Taiki gazed down on the white mountains and valleys as they flew in a ragged formation toward the Forbidden Gate.

  As soon as they dismounted, the gate attendants emerged and greeted them, their breath condensing in small clouds. Guardsmen were called, the kijuu were handed over to the soldiers, and the gate doors were opened in the quiet stillness.

  Taiki said, "Ren really is different from Tai, and not just because of the weather."

  Seirai laughed. "It surely is."

  "Are you relieved, Seirai?"

  "A bit."

  Smiling, they passed through the Forbidden Gate and headed to the Naiden. Word of their arrival having preceded them, when they entered the Naiden, the ministers were already seated and the king occupied the throne.

  Taiki couldn't help but sense a tenseness in the atmosphere as he approached the throne. He bowed low and said, "I have returned."

  Gyousou nodded and beckoned for Taiki to join him. Taiki got up and stood next to the throne. Strangely, he felt as if he'd come back to the place where he belonged.

  "And how was Ren?"

  "The flowers really were blooming there."

  "Were they?" Gyousou smiled. "You can fill me in later." He said to the Chousai, "The fine details can be confined to a written report. I know everybody else must be very tired. There's no need to dawdle here."

  "Yes!" they answered with military precision.

  When the Chousai had finished with his official duties, he congratulated Taiki. Sougen and the other delivered a simple account of their journey. As this was mostly a matter of going through formalities, Gyousou had the pearl-encrusted rattan blinds lowered, indicating that the audience with the king was over.

  "You must be tired. We should call it a day. I'll take you to your room." Giving Taiki a gentle nudge, Gyousou left the Naiden.

  "I'm okay. I'm not tired at all." There were mountains of things he wanted to talk about. "But I guess you do have work to do."

  Gyousou chuckled. "Well, with Kouri finally coming home, I don't suppose anybody will mind if I take some time off."

  Taiki immediately felt his spirits lifting.

  "So what kind of people are the Royal Ren and the Ren Taiho?"

  "They're really nice." Taiki grabbed hold of Gyousou's sleeve as they walked along and rattled off the details as quickly as he could. How they ended up barging into the Koukyuu, and how Seitaku's farm was smack dap in the middle of the Imperial Palace, and how in the morning Renrin came to deliver the wake-up call and air out the rooms and draw the water for them to wash up, and how this left Tansui and everybody all fit to be tied.

  "The Royal Ren even let me help him when he was working on his farm—"

  Gyousou interrupted him with a nudge to the back. "This way, Kouri."

  "Eh?" said Taiki, glancing around. He was sure this was the right way to get back to Jinjuu Manor. He gave Gyousou a curious look.

  Gyousou smiled. "This way."

  "Um—okay."

  Gyousou turned down the path to the Seishin. Assuming that's where they were headed, Taiki didn't give it a second thought. He prattled on about Urou Palace and what Juurei looked like and where they stopped in Ryuu and Kyou and Han on the way there. A month to Taiki was like forever. Explaining what had happened in the meantime seemed to him a way of filling in the time he'd been gone.

  "And then Seirai—"

  Taiki suddenly stopped. Gyousou had been guiding him along and now he found himself in totally unfamiliar surroundings. Looking around, he could see the Seiden of the Seishin. Next to the Seiden on the western side was what appeared to be a building.

  "And then Seirai—?" said Gyousou.

  They passed through the building and emerged into a small courtyard. Taiki stopped and stared. Tansui was standing at the gate to what Taiki took to be the main wing of the building. He thought that when they'd separated at the Forbidden Gate, Tansui had returned to Jinjuu Manor.

  "What's the hold up?" Gyousou queried, giving Taiki a friendly push.

  Taiki hurried into the building and uttered a surprised cry, finding there all the familiar trappings of his life, including the head housekeeper.

  "What's going on?" he asked, turning to Gyousou. Before he'd left for Ren, Taiki recalled that Seirai had promised certain aspects of his life would see a "definite improvement" upon his return. "You mean, I'm moving here?"

  "Assuming you haven't grown too fond of Jinjuu Manor."

  Taiki couldn't avoid the fact that his face had flushed with delight. He would be right in the Seiden with Gyousou. That close. The Imperial Palace was so large that he normally couldn't say two words to Gyousou without taking a long hike. He'd always found it a disagreeable chore.

  "But now it'll be a long way to your Provincial Offices in Koutoku Manor."

  "That's fine with me. It won't be a problem if I hurry."

  "Even hurrying, you still might not get there on time."

  "Then I can run."

  "That'd be an awful bother, day after day."

  "It's okay. Besides, it'll be good for my health. I'm a growing boy, after all. This way I'll grow up even faster. Besides—"

  Gyousou grinned. "You still don't like riding in a palanquin."

  Taiki replied with a small nod. He just couldn't get used to the things. He felt he should be constantly apologizing to the people carrying him around on their shoulders. He could never relax in one.

  "In any case, you'll become Tansui's pupil."

  "Tansui's?"

  "There's a colt waiting for you as well. Tansui will be your instructor."

  "Really?" Taiki jumped up and down. "You mean, I get to ride a horse?"

  "That's right. You've already mastered riding kijuu, but flying kijuu around the Inner Palace has long been against the rules. And you're a bit small to be handling a kijuu all by yourself. I suppose you could travel in a palanquin atop a horse as you did on your journey, but that seems a bit silly, now, doesn't it?"

  Taiki was too delighted for words.

  "You did a good job putting up with all that travel."

  "It wasn't that bad. Really. And there were so many fun things to do. Is it really okay for you to reward me like this?"

  Of course it is, Gyousou's smile said. He headed up to the second floor. There was a warm, brightly-lit room enclosed with glazed paneled doors. The whole expanse of the gardens was visible from the room.

  "This isn't all on your behalf alone. I w
ished to have you closer as well."

  Taiki's eyes opened wide. In that moment, he couldn't help feeling he'd imposed himself on Gyousou. He'd been so lonely that Gyousou had gone to such lengths to show he cared about him.

  "But—" He didn't want to appear ungrateful. And yet that Gyousou had thought it necessary to express his concern with so grand a gesture weight on his mind.

  He was searching for the right words to express how he felt when Gyousou smiled wryly. "I'm not one for letting things work themselves out on their own."

  Gyousou found a chair, settled into it, and motioned to the one next to it. Taiki quietly sat down. Gyousou said, "There are those of us who prefer to strike when the iron is hot. It is not necessarily a vice. But riding with a loose reign has never been a strong point. So I think it best that I see more of you."

  "Me?"

  "Like when you first came to Hakkei Palace and couldn't go five minutes without wanting to know what that was or what this did—somebody to talk to on a regular basis. Some ballast to keep me on an even keel. Somebody to take the kettle off the fire when it's boiling over. Else I'm liable to go firing ministers right and left and otherwise getting ahead of myself."

  Taiki looked up at Gyousou, unable to hide the flabbergasted expression on his face.

  "What?"

  Taiki shook his head.

  "At any rate, we're going to kick back and relax while you catch me up to date on all your adventures. Gashin says that I've been so on edge of late that I'm scary to be around and pretty unapproachable."

  "Gashin of the Zui Provincial Guard?" He'd previously been one of Gyousou's generals. Now he commanded the Zui Provincial Guard of the Right.

  "He said being around me was like spending time with a hungry tiger."

  Gyousou smiled wryly and Taiki grinned despite himself. Somehow or another, he had the feeling that this was exactly the case. He was Gyousou's watcher, and it was his job to make sure that the tiger got fed.

  "Then I'll do my best to make sure that Gyousou-sama's stomach is always full."

  "I'd appreciate it," Gyousou laughed. He suddenly raised his hand. "Ah, look at what else you brought back from Ren—"