The Flood Dragon's Sacrifice Read online

  “Your brother was knocked from his horse; Isamu said he hit his head on a stone. He was unconscious for two days.”

  “That doesn’t sound so good. Though maybe the longer he remained unconscious, the better for the brain to recover…” Lord Kaito seemed to be talking to himself. He looked up and said, “I must go and ask Abbot Genko for permission to leave. If anyone comes, tell them that you’re waiting for me.” The soft, dreaming look in his eyes had vanished, replaced by one of earnest resolve.

  ***

  “You wish to leave us?” Abbot Genko’s expression showed no hint of censure, only the faintest suggestion of regret.

  “Only to tend to my brother’s injuries,” Kai said fiercely. His mind was in turmoil. Please let Takeru still be alive. “I plan to return just as soon as he’s recovered.”

  “Are you certain that’s why your mother has sent for you?”

  “Why else would she – ?” Kai broke off, understanding what the abbot was implying. He began to laugh in disbelief. “No! There’s no way I could take my brother’s place. Look at me!”

  “But if your brother’s condition were to deteriorate…”

  Kai could not even begin to imagine himself as leader of the Black Cranes. He had never once envied Takeru his place as eldest son. The monastery was the one place where he had ever felt at ease; the community had accepted him. He didn’t want to leave. “I – I’ve been so happy here, Lord Abbot. I’m so grateful to you and Master Seishi; I owe you so much – ” He broke off, unable to continue.

  “You will always be welcome here, Kaishin. Or, as I should address you now, Lord Kaito.” The abbot bowed to him. Kai felt a stab of panic at the sound of his real name.

  But I don’t want to be Lord Kaito again.

  “I’m coming back,” he said fiercely. “My place is here as the Flood Dragon Sacrifice. When this crisis is over, I’m going to return and carry on my medical studies with Master Seishi.” But deep down, that feeling of panic stirred again.

  Supposing Mother won’t let me?

  ***

  Kai heard voices as he approached the pharmacy; sliding back the screen, he came upon Master Seishi talking with Sakami.

  “Sakami told me about your brother’s injuries.” There was a little twinkle in Master Seishi’s eyes. “So why don’t we send you both out on the road as a travelling medicine-seller and his assistant? You can take my old backpack. Besides,” he added, his mouth taking on a grimmer set, “you’ll need these medical supplies and maybe more, if your brother is not the only casualty in the fighting.” He bent down and lifted up the backpack with its many little compartments filled with herbs, unguents and medicines, and placed it carefully on the table.

  Kai swallowed back the lump that had suddenly filled his throat at this unexpected kindness. “B – but I can’t take this. What if you need it, Sensei?”

  “I don’t envisage going out on the road again anytime soon.” Master Seishi’s serene smile had returned. “And you can return it to me next time you come to the temple.”

  “Next time?” Kai looked at his teacher through tears of gratitude that had suddenly welled up. It was an unspoken promise. If only he could believe in it. If only he knew for sure that he would come back here – and that his mother would not force him to stay. I don’t want to become a warrior like Takeru. That isn’t the path I’ve chosen.

  ***

  The soft, sweet sounds of a flute woke Sakami. She sat up blinking, wondering where she was. It was dark in the pilgrims’ quarters but over the steady breathing of the sleeping travelers she could hear the flute’s notes drifting past on the night air, a slow, wistful melody, steeped in melancholy and regret.

  Is that you, Lord Kaito? The melody was so poignant that it brought tears to her eyes. She crept to the doorway and looked out; the moon was setting and its faint light silvered the curving roofs of the temple compound. She followed the sound out into the night.

  A lone flute-player sat in the cliff-top garden which overlooked the black sea far below. She was right; it was Lord Kaito.

  Perhaps it was his way of expressing his thanks to the monks who had brought him up; or was it easier to put his feelings of regret into the music than into words? Even if it was a little of both, she knew, as she listened, that he was reluctant to leave the monastery.

  As she stood there, she thought that she spotted a ripple of light far out across the dark waves…and then another, fast-snaking after the first. They moved swiftly through the water, like streaks of starlight, making directly toward the cliff on which the monastery stood.

  A sharp, eerie burst of barking rang out in the night. Lord Kaito stopped playing, looking up as though roused from a trance.

  “A fox?” she heard him mutter to himself, getting to his feet to gaze around him.

  Honou? It had sounded just like his bark. Honou or not, the spell cast by the flute’s sweet, sad drift of notes was broken – and when Sakami looked again at the dark sea, there was no sign of the rippling lights.

  ***

  “Good morning.” Pilgrims on the monastery road through the rice fields called out a greeting to Lord Kaito and Sakami as they passed and Sakami replied, faking a cheerfulness that she didn’t feel. Lord Kaito, Master Seishi’s medicine chest strapped to his back, was already falling behind.

  This journey is going to take forever.

  Sakami felt torn between pity for her young master’s affliction and the growing realization that, at his pace, the journey over the mountain could take twice, three times as long as when she came. And do we have enough provisions? The monks had given her rice, pickled plums, and dried squid, and she had filled the water gourds at the monastery well.

  From time to time she caught sight of a streak of russet passing through the bushes beside the road; Honou was tracking them, keeping his distance so as not to draw attention to himself.

  Lord Kaito said nothing; all his energies must be concentrated on walking. She kept stealing little glances at his face, wondering what he might be thinking; his eyes were fixed on the road ahead. It struck her suddenly that this might be the first time he had left the monastery on foot in many years. Watching him limping onward without a word of complaint, she felt her heart twist in sympathy.

  By midday, the sky was cloudless and there was little shelter from the sun. Cicadas whirred their rattling drone from the hedgerows. Lord Kaito trudged on without saying a word but Sakami could see a glisten of sweat on his forehead.

  “I’m so hot,” she said when they came to a stand of trees, wanting to give him the excuse to take a rest. “Shall we stop for a while?”

  “Can we afford the time?”

  “We’ll go on much faster if we take a break now.”

  She helped him take off the pack and propped it up against a tree trunk. “It’s heavy,” she said, wondering how he was managing. “Won’t you let me carry it for a while?”

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m so slow.”

  Sakami felt ashamed that she had reminded him of his disability. “Forgive me, my lord. I didn’t mean to – ”

  “Don’t call me ‘my lord,’ Sakami.” He lowered himself awkwardly to the ground. “Someone might overhear. Just call me Kaishin – no, better still, call me Kai.”

  “Sorry, sorry.” This was only getting more uncomfortable. She unwrapped some rice balls and handed them to him, then started to munch one herself. They ate in silence under the dappled shade of the tree’s leafy branches, Sakami not knowing what to say. Eventually she blurted the first thing that came into her head. “I heard someone playing the flute last night. Was it you?” It came out sounding so lame that she wanted to go and hide. But he raised his head at last, a look of surprise in his eyes.

  “You heard me?”

  She sang the first notes of the old clan song he used to play to her when they were children. “ ‘Three Cranes on the Shore’.”

  “I hope I’ve improved a little since those days!” He gave a short, self-de
precating laugh but she noticed that the worry lines on his face had eased.

  ***

  Why can’t I sleep? Kai gazed up through the interlacing branches overhead at the moonlit sky. After tramping all day, I should be exhausted, not lying awake, staring up at the stars.

  Beside him, Sakami slumbered soundly, curled up on the dry bracken; he could just hear the gentle, regular susurration of her breathing. He stole an envious glance at her, wishing he could drop off so easily. His whole body ached from jaw to toes. He had not walked so far in many years, or over such rough terrain; the unaccustomed exercise had taxed his physical strength far more than he had anticipated.

  A tree root was digging into his spine; he shifted a little, hoping his restless movements would not wake Sakami. If only Kakumyo had just handed Lord Naoki back to his father straight away, the clans wouldn’t have started fighting again, Takeru wouldn’t have been hurt and I… He raised one hand to press on his forehead to try to quell the troubling thoughts; his brain ached with going over and over the same ground.

  Matters must be pretty desperate for my mother to send Sakami to fetch me. But what possible difference does my mother think my being at the castle will make? Surely she’s not expecting me to lead our warriors into battle against the Kites? The thought was so ridiculous that he felt a smile twisting his lips. No, she must want me for my medical skills; anything else would be…

  And then another, more sinister idea came to mind, one that made his body go cold, even though the summer night was balmily warm. Suppose she wants to use me as a bargaining tool? A hostage exchange? He turned over again, wincing as his sore muscles objected. She’d never sell her own son, even though I’m nothing but a burden to her. There was no denying that his mother had become cold and distant toward him after his illness. Had she blamed herself for letting him fall sick? Perhaps she had just found it easier to ignore him. He had learned to live with her indifference. After all, her strict upbringing at the imperial court had schooled her to show little emotion in front of others, even her own children.

  An owl hooted in the trees close by, making him jump.

  How pathetic am I? He almost laughed aloud at his reaction. I’ve been in the monastery for so long that I’ve forgotten the normal sounds of the countryside at night…

  Yet just as his lids started to droop, he thought he caught a shimmer of pale light moving close by in the darkness. The breath caught in his throat.

  A creature was slowly pacing up and down, as though keeping guard, patrolling the area where they slept. From time to time it swished its fiery tail irritably.

  A flame-tailed fox? Kai rubbed his eyes, blinking. When he looked again, the eerie light had gone. I must have been dreaming…

  Chapter 14

  The Minister of the Right’s mansion was in a state of disorder as servants ran to and fro carrying chests and coffers containing his daughter Ayaka’s dowry and wedding gifts for the Kurozuro family. His wife, Princess Omiya, kept changing her mind, so that as soon as she had ordered the silks to be loaded onto the waiting ox carts first, she worried that they might be spoiled if one of the bottles of vintage sake shattered and leaked onto the costly materials.

  “I can’t take another moment of Mother’s fussing,” Ayaka cried. “I need fresh air.”

  “But Lady Ayaka, the ship sets sail at midday…”

  With Reika’s protest still echoing in her ears, Ayaka slipped her feet into her sandals and set out into the mansion gardens, determined to take one last look at the place where she had grown up – and then write a poem about it, imbued with bitter-sweet emotions.

  Does no one care about my feelings?

  The orange blossoms were in full bloom, their white petals perfuming the fresh morning air.

  This may be the last time I see these gardens. Anything could happen to me once I leave the safety of the capital city. The ship could be boarded by pirates…or caught in a storm…I might never even reach Castle Kurozuro.

  She blinked away tears as she hurried along the path by the ornamental stream.

  There’s the little scarlet-painted bridge where Nurse used to take me to feed Father’s koi carp… until the time I fell in because I leaned over too far.

  She thought she could hear her mother’s ladies-in-waiting calling her name but their voices were as faint as the cries of the peacocks perched in the trees overlooking the lake.

  The lotus flowers will be opening in a week or two. Why do I have to leave so soon? Why couldn’t I have a few more days to make memories?

  She stumbled over a stone and went down on one knee. Humiliated, her toes smarting, she straightened up again, checking to see if any gardeners were about to have witnessed her undignified fall.

  A dark-clad figure sprang nimbly out from behind the bushes and landed in front of her, blocking her way.

  “Don’t startle me like that!” Ayaka snapped, recognizing Reika.

  “My lady, if you don’t come back now, your mother will have a swooning fit.”

  “And it would serve her right for making me leave the imperial court so soon.”

  Reika let out a little sigh. “I understand that you must be feeling upset at having to leave your family home. But your parents have chosen a handsome and likeable young clan lord to be your husband. Just think how desperate you’d be right now if you had to marry Lord Suetada.”

  “Don’t remind me.” Ayaka shuddered. “That old pervert tried to pinch my bottom when he thought no one was looking.”

  “He’s tried that with all the young ladies at court, it seems. I overheard the princess saying that he just can’t keep his hands to himself…”

  A man had appeared, strolling along the side of the lake, hands clasped behind his back, head lowered as if deep in thought. Ayaka stared, not hearing a word of what Reika was saying, certain she recognized him.

  “Reika!” she whispered in a panic, nudging her maid sharply in the ribs. “It’s Prince Hotaru! What shall I do?”

  “I wonder why he’s alone? It’s unusual for one of the imperial family to arrive unannounced.” Reika glanced around, scanning the garden for the prince’s bodyguards.

  As he drew near, the prince raised his head, pushing his sliding spectacles back up the slender bridge of his nose to peer short-sightedly at the young women.

  “Lady Ayaka; h - how do you?” A shy little smile lit his face as he recognized her.

  “I’m well, thank you, Prince Hotaru.” She bowed low, hoping that he would not notice the blush she could feel burning her cheeks.

  “I was on my way to consult your father when I spotted the orange blossom petals dropping onto the waters of your lake. Their transient beauty seemed to offer such a perfect metaphor for the brevity of our own lives that I stopped to try to capture it in a poem.”

  “May I hear it?” she heard herself ask, and then blushed even more, shocked at her own boldness.

  “Oh, I’m afraid it’s not finished. The words I was searching for just seemed to elude me today.” His smile was so charming that she didn’t know where to look. “But, I confess, I utterly forgot my purpose in coming here.”

  “You’re too modest, your highness.” What am I doing, talking so intimately with the emperor’s brother? Suppose someone sees us together? Ayaka was shocked at her lack of discretion. But to her surprise he came closer, his expression suddenly grave and solicitous.

  “We’ve received news at the palace, you see. It’s not good, I’m afraid.”

  Ayaka gripped Reika’s hand.

  “Your fiancé, Lord Takeru, has been gravely injured.”

  “Injured?” she repeated, not understanding. “But how?”

  “I’m afraid that we know little more than that. But it seems he was involved in a clash with the Akatobi clan.”

  “A clash?” Ayaka turned to Reika, who had slipped her arm behind her to support her. “It’s all right, Reika, I’m not going to faint,” she said indignantly.

  “Lady Ayaka, forgive me,
but I must speak with your father urgently,” said the prince. “Take good care of your mistress, Reika.” As he set out toward the main house, the bushes rustled and Ayaka, astonished, saw four bodyguards appear and go after him.

  Reika nodded her admiration, watching them intently. “Excellent concealment skills. I hardly knew they were there.”

  “Hardly?” Ayaka echoed. “You mean you – ” And then she broke off. “Why are we talking about the prince’s bodyguards when it looks as if my marriage is off and my life is ruined?” And then, as Reika’s attention still seemed to be focused on Prince Hotaru’s rapidly dwindling shadows, she stamped her foot. “Listen to me, Reika! What am I going to do?”

  ***

  “So much packing and all for nothing!” Princess Omiya gazed around at the stacked chests and coffers cluttering up the hall of the mansion. “I really can’t think what possessed your father to arrange this marriage with the Kurozuro clan; barely seven years have passed and they and the Kites are at each others’ throats again.”

  “If I recall accurately, my dear,” interjected a deep voice wearily, “you were the one who was so keen to link our family with that of your old friend Asagao.”

  “Father!” Ayaka hurried over to Lord Nagamoto as he came through the doorway, removing his tall black-lacquered hat. “Is there any news?”

  “Pick up your skirts, Ayaka,” said her mother, “they’ll be ruined trailing through all this dust.”

  “The emperor is determined to proceed with the Tide Festival; if he cancels, the people will see it as an ill omen.”

  “She means about her fiancé, dearest.”

  “In the circumstances,” Lord Nagamoto said, pensively stroking his neatly trimmed beard, “I think the time has come to consult the Bureau of Divination about whether to proceed or not with our daughter’s marriage.”

  “The Bureau of Divination?” Princess Omiya began to fan herself vigorously, a sure sign, Ayaka knew of old, that she disliked her husband’s suggestion. “Suppose the Diviners tell us to break off the match? Won’t that prove expensive?”