The Flood Dragon's Sacrifice Read online

  Chapter 24

  Is there a gaping hole in my memory? Masao hesitated outside the hospital tent. Would Yūgiri think he was crazy to ask him such a question? Yet who else would have the expertise to find out?

  Perhaps carrying the Tide Jewels left some taint of magic on your soul, Yūgiri had told him after the raid on the temple, but he had brushed the suggestion aside. Now he had begun to wonder whether the shaman was right.

  As he was standing outside deliberating whether to go in or not, the tent flap was raised and Yūgiri came out, shading his eyes against the glare of the setting sun.

  “Masao. Are you feeling all right?”

  “Could you tell if someone had placed a spell on me?” Masao blurted out. “One that altered my mind?”

  “A spell?” Yūgiri’s pale eyes clouded.

  “The first time you healed me you said you sensed a taint of magic. And since then I’ve been having these dreams.” Masao felt uncomfortable at admitting to such a weakness.

  Yūgiri reached out and placed his fingertips on Masao’s forehead, closing his eyes as if in deep concentration. Suddenly he snatched his fingers away as if they had been scorched.

  “What is it?” Masao fell back a pace, surprised at the violence of Yūgiri’s reaction.

  “I’ve never come across anything quite like this.” Yūgiri was hugging his hands to his chest, and he was breathing hard. “This has nothing to do with the Tide Jewels. This is onmyōji spell-weaving – of a dark and malevolent kind. Someone has placed a powerful seal on your memories.”

  Masao’s first feeling was relief that he wasn’t going mad – yet that still left the question of who had cast the spell on him. “But – when? And who could do such a thing?”

  Yūgiri slowly lifted his fingers, examining them closely as if afraid that he had become contaminated in some way. “I know of no one on Akatobi Island who has such powers. Something must have happened to you at the monastery.”

  “Could an onmyōji control me so easily? Could he compel me to do things against my own will?” The thought that he might have become a stranger’s puppet was even more disturbing than the suspicion that his mind had been invaded.

  “Masao!” Someone was calling his name but he ignored it, needing to hear Yūgiri’s answer.

  Yūgiri shook his head. “I don’t think so. It’s just your memory that’s been locked.”

  “So can you break the spell? Can you help me get my memories back?”

  “Are you deaf, Masao?” Chikaaki came running up over the sand. “Lord Toshiro has summoned us. He’s received a reply from Princess Asagao.”

  “We’ll talk again when you return.” Yūgiri turned away to re-enter the tent, leaving Masao’s question unanswered.

  ***

  “What kind of a response is this?” Lord Toshiro glared at his assembled retainers. He had just finished reading the letter aloud. “That woman is as insufferably conceited as ever!” He tore it up and cast the pieces onto the brazier. Masao and the others watched in silence.

  “You didn’t really think that Princess Asagao would surrender without a fight, did you, my lord?” General Okitane said as the paper fragments flared up and died to ash.

  “‘We will deal with your son accordingly.’” Masao dared to speak up. “Is that a threat to Lord Naoki’s life?” The wording of the letter seemed to have been deliberately chosen to confuse and enflame in equal measure.

  “Ha! She’s bluffing. She wouldn’t dare.”

  “But if they’re planning to execute Naoki – ”

  Lord Toshiro struck his clenched fist into his palm. “Take them by surprise tonight. All the more reason for you and Yoriaki to break into their siege tunnel as soon as possible. The princess will start singing a very different tune once we get inside the castle walls.”

  ***

  “It’s too soon,” Saburo said quietly. “Why won’t Lord Toshiro listen? This new saltpeter is tricky stuff; it’s quite different from what we were working with back on the island. One of the assistants almost blew his fingers off the other day.”

  “There’s no reasoning with Lord Toshiro,” Masao said unhappily. “When he wants something done…”

  “Ask him to give us another day. Just one more day to test the balance. Otherwise this new fire drug could end up harming us, not the Cranes.”

  “Are you ready in there, Saburo?” Yoriaki called. “We need to get under way while there’s still some light.”

  ***

  In the dusk, every rustle in the bamboo thicket made Masao twitch. Yoriaki had gone on ahead to take out any Crane guards posted around the entrance to the tunnel. The instant Chikaaki’s shinobi launched their attack, the plan was to position the iron dragon as close to the entrance as possible and blast through any barriers the Cranes had put up to keep them out. After that…well, Masao had his doubts as to how effective the fire drug would prove but the explosion was sure to do considerable damage to the Cranes’ defenses.

  Hauling the eruptor up the steep and stony mountain path was an awkward task. His nerves were on edge, knowing that if there were Crane archers watching from the trees, they were an easy target.

  Any moment now… His hand rested on the hilt of his sword as he scanned the thick stems of bamboo, searching for the Kite talon marks he had scored to show the way. Of course, if the Cranes had discovered his secret markings, they might have tried to obliterate them – or even have carved many more to confuse the besiegers. But even in the fading light he was able to make them out and gave the hand signal to Saburo and his men to follow.

  Where’s Master Yoriaki?

  But as Masao went on, his main concern was that the sound of the iron dragon being dragged over the undergrowth on its upturned shield sleigh might alert any Crane sentries nearby.

  ***

  “Is this the place?” Saburo mouthed the words. Masao nodded. Castle Kurozuro towered above them, seemingly impregnable; the Cranes had constructed their stronghold to withstand invasion from land or sea, embedding its foundations in the rocky side of the mountain. A swath of forest separated them from the main entrance; Chikaaki and his team should be poised ready to cause the diversion outside the gates.

  “Wait here.” Now that dusk had seeped into the bamboo thicket, Masao judged it was time to reconnoiter. He could just make out the entrance to the siege tunnel but there was still no sign of Master Yoriaki and that made him feel uneasy. There was no sign of any Crane sentinels either; had Yoriaki already taken them out? He ventured closer to the hidden entrance, moving from shadow to shadow until the gap in the rocks, screened with ivy and hanging vines, was in sight.

  “You took your time,” a voice whispered in his ear.

  Masao swung around to see Master Yoriaki standing at his shoulder.

  “Still too slow, Masao,” said his sensei, shaking his head reprovingly. “Where’s the iron dragon?”

  It was only then that Masao noticed the bodies lying outside the entrance; Master Yoriaki must have caught both sentries off guard, slitting their throats before either could sound the alarm. And the lush smell of the foliage, ivy and honeysuckle, had disguised the hot coppery taint of freshly spilt blood.

  “Right behind me,” he said. And for the first time that night he felt a small surge of hope; with Yoriaki beside him, maybe they stood a chance of getting inside and rescuing Lord Naoki after all.

  “We’re going to need it; as predicted, the Cranes have sealed off the tunnel.”

  “Then why the sentries?”

  “Good observation.” Yoriaki nodded. “They won’t have left themselves without some means of escape.”

  Masao caught a sudden flash of russet in the gloom. He caught hold of Master Yoriaki’s arm. “Look there!”

  “A fox?” Yoriaki turned to look where Masao was pointing. “Trying to sneak into the castle?”

  Masao could just make out the sleek form of a young dog fox sniffing around where the sentries’ bodies lay. It looked as if it was carryin
g a mouthful of greenery in its jaws. Then it stole behind the curtain of ivy and vanished.

  “So there’s a gap large enough for a young dog fox to slip through? Let’s see if we can enlarge it.”

  The sound of a conch trumpet brayed out into the dusk, startling the crows roosting in the pine branches overhead.

  “Chikaaki’s launched his attack,” said Yoriaki. “Time to make the iron dragon breathe fire.”

  ***

  Hauling the unwieldy eruptor into position outside the blockaded entrance left Masao and Saburo sweating and breathless. All the while they heaved and tugged, Masao could hear distant shouts and the clash of steel on steel as Chikaaki’s shinobi created the diversion at the main gate.

  “Come on,” Master Yoriaki fretted as they worked to ensure that the eruptor was secure on the uneven stony ground. Masao noticed Saburo glance across at the bodies of the Crane sentries and the dark slick of blood in which they lay.

  “If it’s not stable, the explosion could backfire and kill the lot of us,” Masao explained as Saburo struck sparks to ignite the fuse.

  “Take cover!” Saburo yelled.

  The little flame travelled swiftly along the fuse and, as Masao threw himself down, he heard the spit and fizz as it reached the fire drug. The ground shook as the eruptor belched out its contents, bombarding the timbered entrance with shrapnel.

  “Well?” Yoriaki shouted.

  Masao made his way through the foul-smelling smoke to the entrance. Some of the projectiles had embedded themselves in the timbers, but at the center the impact had created a charred area which he could put his whole arm through.

  “Ready for a second blast, Saburo?” Masao called back.

  There was no reply.

  Chapter 25

  Shun had been shaved but his clean tunic was already damp with sweat; Kai guessed that Sakami must have paid her brother a visit.

  “Shun,” Kai said, bending down to feel his forehead, which was still hot and clammy. “How are you feeling?”

  Shun muttered something inaudible and turned his head away.

  Still feverish; not good. Kai sat back on his heels, trying to conjure Master Seishi’s calm, reassuring voice in his head. The infusion takes at least a day and a night to work. Make sure the patient is kept as cool as possible to help lower the fever.

  Kai leaned forward again to place a damp cloth on Shun’s temples; Shun pulled a face, shuddering as the cool wetness touched his skin.

  Why had the fox-boy not come back with the remedy yet? Had he been caught trying to sneak back in? Or had he forgotten his errand and wandered off, distracted by some pretty vixen or a tempting snack of fresh rabbit? If you don’t come back soon, Honou, your young mistress could lose her beloved brother to this fever.

  “My lord.”

  Kai, startled out of his gloomy reverie, looked up to see a young man bowing to him; he wore the black-and-white Crane emblem of the main house on his tunic. As he looked up, Kai recognized something familiar in his features but could not quite place where he had seen him before. That earnest, brown-eyed gaze, so different from Honou’s knowing, mischievous amber glint.

  “The general has appointed me to be your squire, my lord. My name is Iwaki no Susumu but everyone calls me Susumu.”

  “You’re Isamu’s younger brother? You look like him.”

  “So they say.” Susumu pulled a face that told Kai he didn’t relish the comparison.

  “And my mother’s sent you to make sure that I don’t fraternize with the servants?”

  Color darkened Susumu’s cheeks. “I – ”

  “You’re only doing your duty; I won’t hold it against you.” Kai started to get up and found that his leg had gone to sleep. “Could you give me a hand, Susumu? I seem to have got stuck in this position.”

  “Lean on me.” Susumu put one arm around Kai and eased him upward; Kai was surprised to feel how strong he was. “You don’t remember me, do you, my lord?” the squire said softly as Kai rubbed his numb leg to try to restore the circulation. “I was appointed to be your page by Lord Morimitsu. I was so proud. But then you went to the monastery…and never came back.”

  Kai heard seven years’ pent-up frustration in Susumu’s light voice. He straightened up and put one hand on the boy’s shoulder. “But I’m here now, Susumu. And I’m grateful for all the help you’re going to give me.”

  An eager flame lit Susumu’s dark brown eyes. “Really, my lord? I’ve learned all about being a squire from my brother. I’ve become really skilled at helping Lord Takeru with his armor – so I’ll do my best to get you comfortably fitted.”

  “Armor?” Kai looked up. So Tachibana had not forgotten their bargain.

  “The general wants you to accompany him on his evening tour of the battlements. He says it will inspire the men.”

  Kai cast a last regretful look back at the wounded in the hall; Shun had already dislodged the cooling poultice in one restless febrile movement. How long would it be before anyone noticed? He beckoned to one of the helpers, a grey-haired servant woman of Umeko’s age, and quietly asked her to tend to Shun.

  “My lord?” Susumu, who had bounded restlessly on ahead, came back.

  My true place is in here, not on the battlements. But if I give in to my mother’s wishes, perhaps she’ll stop interfering…

  “Very well, Susumu,” Kai said. “Let’s get this over with.”

  ***

  “I feel…ridiculous.”

  Kai stood patiently, even though his left leg was aching badly, while Susumu laced him into Takeru’s black-lacquered battle armor. Takeru’s shoulders were broad, and his spine was long and straight. In contrast, Kai was slender and, although a strong swimmer, lacked the well-developed muscles that his brother had acquired in his passion for archery and riding. Susumu had attempted to compensate for this by helping him into a thickly padded jacket first, but now he was sweating in the late afternoon heat.

  A longing for the ocean swept through him, so strong that it almost took his breath away. To taste the wild salt tang of the green waters again, to glide through the cool, sunlit waves… The Tide Dragon seal throbbed, as if in sympathy.

  “My lord?” Susumu was gazing at him with a puzzled expression furrowing his brow. “Can you lift your arms? I need to check that I haven’t laced you in too tightly.”

  “Ah, yes.” Kai had not heard a word Susumu had said to him. He raised his arms so that Susumu could check his handiwork, shaken by the intensity of the memory.

  “And here’s your brother’s sword.” Susumu presented the katana to him, hilt first. “When you’re ready, General Tachibana is waiting to take you to inspect the troops.”

  Kai took the katana, weighing it in his hands. The guard, with its intricately worked design of black cranes in flight, stirred memories from childhood. “This was our father’s sword.” He remembered touching the cranes and hearing his father say, “Be careful, Kaito, that blade is razor-sharp…”

  “The princess gave it to your brother when he became leader of our clan.”

  “Ah. Of course.” I didn’t know. But then I’ve been away for so long that I feel like a stranger.

  “And now you will bear it in your brother’s stead.”

  At the sound of his mother’s voice, Kai turned to see that the princess had been watching from behind an internal screen, with Umeko behind her. Susumu dropped to his knees.

  “How long have you been there, Mother?” Kai could not disguise the irritation in his voice. Why is she watching me so closely after seven years of neglect?

  “Long enough to see how much you resemble your father in that armor.”

  It wasn’t what he wanted to hear. He wished she could see him for who he was, not just a shadow of Lord Morimitsu. He had agreed to endure this humiliation to ensure that Naoki didn’t waste away in the dungeons; perhaps there was one more omission that he could put right.

  “The girl from Sakuranbo village whom you sent to bring me back,” he said,
affecting as casual a tone as he could manage, “I assume she’s been properly remunerated?”

  “I really can’t recall.” His mother fanned herself as she spoke so that he could not see her expression. “Umeko – did we reward the kitchen girl?”

  “Not yet, my lady.”

  “Can you take care of it for me? A small piece of jewelry should be appropriate.”

  “Mother – ” Kai began in exasperation but saw Umeko shaking her head. Of course, my mother expects the servants to do as they are told without question or expectation of reward. She was brought up at court; she’s been pampered and waited on all her life. She’ll never change.

  Umeko beckoned to him to follow her to the hall in which Princess Asagao received visitors and left him there for a few minutes before she returned carrying a dark lacquer box inlaid with ivory chrysanthemums.

  “What do you think the young lady would like?” she said, the hint of a twinkle in her eyes.

  “I don’t know…” Kai stared down at the contents of the box, seeing a dull glitter of hair pins and decorative combs, all exquisitely fashioned from precious materials: gold, turquoise, jet and jade. Had Umeko guessed how he felt about Sakami? And what would Sakami like?

  And then he spotted an ornamental tortoiseshell comb. Drawing it out of the box, he saw that a pair of gold cranes had been inlaid in the glossy brown shell with the most delicate craftsmanship. Cranes mated for life and artists often used them as a symbol of fidelity; the motif was a favored one for lovers’ gifts.

  “This one,” he said without hesitation.

  “I think she’ll like your choice,” Umeko said, closing the box. “Ah, to be young again.” She sighed, and then reached out to touch his arm. “But don’t make her any promises you can’t keep, Kai. You’re the young lord now and there’ll be expectations. A lord can take as many mistresses and page boys as he pleases – but for heirs he must marry a woman of equally high birth.”

  Kai blushed. “But I’ve never even considered…” What was his mother scheming for behind his back – a trophy bride from another well-to-do family? He had only just begun to realize that he had feelings for Sakami…and he had no idea whether those feelings were returned.