Emperor of the Fireflies Page 7

  “The tide won’t wait, my girl!” Kinkiyo sounded increasingly impatient. “And Ren’s fretting for his mother.”

  “I wish you a safe crossing to the mainland.” Masao escorted her to the doorway, taking care to stand in the shadow, in case others of his clan were gathering outside. She paused and suddenly turned and, standing on tiptoe, lightly kissed his cheek. Then, without a backward glance, she hurried to join her father and Ren.

  Masao, taken by surprise, placed one hand on his cheek, touching the place where her soft lips had brushed his skin. If she’d struck me, it would have been easier to understand; she has every right to hate me for not protecting Saburo.

  He gazed around him at the armorers’ hut; everything of use had been stripped and packed to take to the mainland. But if he closed his eyes, he could almost hear the laughter of Kinkiyo and his apprentices, the puff of the bellows and the fierce roar of the forge fire next door.

  “At least I’ve done something to repay my promise to you, Saburo,” he said softly to the empty hut. “Sleep easy, my friend.”

  Chapter 7

  “Rikyu – take the archers and search the outbuildings.”

  Kai, hiding in the island bathhouse, recognized General Tachibana’s voice.

  “We need to be sure that no Red Kites have stayed behind.”

  Kai hastily tied the belt around the yukata Masao had left for him. I can’t afford to be seen yet, even by Rikyu. It’s too risky.

  He slipped out of the bathhouse door and took cover a little further up the hill in a hut doorway.

  “And Susumu – you go check the bathhouse.”

  Kai watched his squire hurry to carry out Tachibana’s orders. But once around the far side of the compound, Susumu’s pace slowed until he had come to a standstill, out of sight of the main house. He raised his head to gaze up at the steep, cloud-shrouded hills that rose behind the huddle of huts and Kai saw from the droop of his shoulders and the desperate look in his eyes the toll that defeat had taken.

  “What a dump,” he heard him mutter. “How are we ever going to survive out here?” He began to walk slowly, reluctantly toward where Kai was hiding.

  Kai could not stand by and watch any longer. He knew he was taking a risk – but he if there was one person he knew he could trust, it was his squire.

  “Susumu,” he called softly. Susumu’s head went up, like a startled rabbit gazing nervously around to check for signs of predators.

  “Who’s there?”

  “A friend. Keep on walking. You’ll find me soon enough.”

  Susumu’s hand had gone instinctively to where the hilt of his katana should have been. As he drew near, Kai grabbed him by the arm and pulled him into the doorway.

  “Lord Kai – ?”

  “Don’t say anything yet, Susumu, just listen.”

  Susumu’s mouth had half opened to protest – but, as Kai had hoped, he obediently closed it and nodded his assent.

  “I want you to let my mother and brother know that I’m going to do everything in my power to get the clan out of this mess.” Close to, Kai could see more clearly the purple bruising on Susumu’s face. “Did the Kites do this to you?” He raised one hand to gently touch the swelling around his mouth, a healer’s instinct, and felt his squire wince. “Susu-kun, I’m so very sorry.” He had used, without even thinking, the name he had called Susumu when they were children. “You suffered all this on my behalf – and for what reward? Exile.”

  “Y-your eyes, my lord.” Susumu was staring at him, transfixed. “They’ve turned blue.”

  Kai nodded. “I’ll explain when there’s more time. Just tell me what price Emperor Hotaru has put on my head.”

  “You’re to be taken alive, at all costs, to stand trial in the capital for trying to assassinate the new emperor.”

  “No more than I expected.” Susumu’s face was wavering in the lantern light, forcing Kai to concentrate on what his squire was telling him. I need food. Masao warned me. And I forgot.

  “But that’s not all. Commander Higekuro said that the deposed emperor, Suzaku is to be exiled here too – and we’re responsible for looking after him.”

  “Emperor Suzaku exiled to Akatobi Island?” Kai did not like the sound of this at all. “So. . .if anything were to happen to him here, the Black Cranes would be held responsible?”

  Susumu’s bruised face distorted in a look of horrified disbelief. “But that would mean –”

  “You and Isamu must find a way to keep watch over the ex-emperor night and day.”

  “You suspect someone will be sent to assassinate the emperor? And we’ll be blamed?”

  “Frankly, yes.”

  “The imperial soldiers took our weapons from us.”

  Another pang of hunger and Kai gripped at the door frame to keep himself upright, embarrassed to show physical weakness in front of his squire.

  “What’s wrong, my lord?” He heard the concern in Susumu’s voice and was touched that the young man – in spite of all that he had suffered on his behalf – bore him no grudge.

  “Food. I need food. I haven’t eaten since. . .I don’t remember when.”

  “Wait here. There isn’t much – but I’ll find you something.”

  As Susumu hurried away, Kai sank down to the ground, huddling in the shadow of the doorway.

  Susumu returned a short while later, casting anxious glances around, as if he feared he was being followed. “Here, my lord,” he said, squatting down beside Kai. “A few rice balls with pickled plum, some dried persimmon, and green tea to wash it down.”

  Kai fell on the rations, unable to stop himself chewing and swallowing too fast, knowing that his empty stomach would hurt even more, but too hungry to care.

  “You’re a life-saver, Susumu,” he said, the familiar taste of the rice bringing tears of gratitude to his eyes.

  “Yuna gave me the food,” he said, blushing at the praise. “She’s the one who’s been keeping our spirits up.”

  “She must have a soft spot for you,” Kai said. And then the thought struck him. “This wasn’t your supper, was it?”

  “What should I say to your mother, my lord?” Kai noted that Susumu had deliberately avoided answering his question.

  “Nothing – at this stage. Don’t even tell your brother. Just say that you’re concerned for the emperor’s safety.” Kai reached out and put his hand on Susumu’s shoulder. “I’m sorry to burden you with this.”

  To his surprise, he saw tears well up in Susumu’s eyes too.

  “It - it’s an honor, my lord.”

  Chapter 8

  For the second time that summer, the calm of Lord Nagamoto’s mansion in the capital city was shattered by frantic preparations for a marriage. At first, Ayaka, Lord Nagamoto’s only child and heir, was delighted to be the centre of attention, and enchanted with her new title of “princess.” After a while, the constant stream of visitors bearing gifts and good wishes began to weary her. Her mouth ached from smiling – modestly, of course – and she kept stealing surreptitious glances at her reflection in her sleeve mirror to make sure that her perfectly reddened lips had not smudged or become fixed in a hideous grimace.

  Suddenly I’m the centre of attention in the capital. I’ve always dreamed of such an honor. So why is it turning out to be so tedious?

  Her mother, Princess Omiya, revelled in the attention, greeting each arrival effusively and accepting the compliments and gifts with gracious ease as the Nagamoto servants offered refreshments. Ayaka began to long to escape to her rooms and catch up on the latest installment of The Pillow Book of Lady Ukifune which had been delivered the day before.

  Who are all these people? All they want is to curry favour with the new emperor, they couldn’t care less about me.

  Eventually, Ayaka could not endure any more polite conversation or empty compliments and fled to her rooms where she avidly devoured the new episode of her book

  “So this is where you’ve been hiding.” Princess Omiya slid bac
k the door screen and came in, settling herself on the cushions of soft tea-green silk opposite her daughter.

  Ayaka, caught reading the forbidden text, dropped the scroll and tried to conceal it beneath her robes.

  “I’m quite exhausted with all these visitors,” announced her mother. “But not so exhausted that I couldn’t spare the time for a special chat with my daughter, woman-to-woman.”

  Ayaka did not like the sound of this womanly chat at all but could see no obvious means of escape.

  The princess was smoothing out the folds of her new layered gown. “Court etiquette demands that the emperor should follow the usual protocol in taking a new bride.” She raised her head and smiled brightly at Ayaka. “So now that we are all back in the capital, you must be ready to receive his imperial majesty three nights in succession.”

  “Receive?” Ayaka repeated, blushing.

  “Judging by your recent reading material,” Princess Omiya said tartly, picking up Lady Ukifune’s latest work between finger and thumb and holding it at arm’s length as though it were a soiled piece of linen, “you know exactly what I am alluding to.”

  Ayaka snatched it back; her mother was right, but she didn’t wish to acknowledge the fact.

  “As you are to be the emperor’s first consort, you will be expected to produce an heir as soon as possible. All the while Hotaru has no immediate successor, his position as emperor is vulnerable. Suzaku may be in exile but he still has his supporters, you know – and there’s another contender in his little son, Crown Prince Norihira. Not everyone in the capital may be ready to accept your fiancé in Suzaku’s place.”

  Ayaka was no longer listening; she was wondering what kind of lover Hotaru would prove to be. Will he kiss me and read me poems? I’ve always imagined us reading poetry together…

  “You’re not exactly strangers,” her mother said. “I’ll never forget the way Prince Hotaru protected you when the Flood Dragon caused such havoc at the festival. I was so afraid that you would drown.” And she suddenly scooped Ayaka into her arms, hugging her with uncharacteristic warmth.

  “Mother,” Ayaka said, her voice muffled by the scented silk of the princess’s robes, “it’s going to be all right.” Why am I reassuring my mother? Surely this should be the other way round?

  “Shall I send my maids to attend on you?” The princess wiped a tear from her eyes. “We must get you ready for his majesty.”

  “Just Reika,” Ayaka said without thinking and saw her mother’s painted brows rise in an expression of disapproval.

  “Reika may be your bodyguard, but she hasn’t received the same training in court protocol as my ladies.”

  Ayaka pouted. “But Reika knows my tastes.” The truth – which she didn’t want to admit to her mother – was that since the festival, she only felt safe when Reika was near. Reika had swum out to her side when the other servants had run away from the seashore, too terrified by Flood to think of anything but their own safety.

  “When his majesty moves you to the imperial palace, he will expect you to take several favoured noblewomen into your household to attend on you. Reika is not of noble birth. We will have to review her role.”

  But Reika’s more like a friend than a servant. We’ve been together since I was nine. I don’t want to be separated from her. Ayaka turned away, pretending to pick at a loose thread in her sleeve, and trying to hide her face from her mother who was only too skilled at reading her daughter’s expressions.

  “Just this once, then. But you must explain to Reika today that her position will change when you enter the palace.”

  Ayaka nodded. She was already scheming to devise a way to keep Reika close to her. I don’t want to be attended on by a host of spoiled, envious noble daughters. They’ll all be competing to see which one can divert Hotaru’s attention away from me.

  “But first, we must select a suitable gown for you.” The princess clapped her hands and two of her ladies slid back the door, entering carrying armfuls of perfumed robes. As they laid them out in front of Ayaka, the powdery scent impregnating the delicate silks filled her room until she felt as if she were about to suffocate in gales of sweetness.

  “So pretty…” She pointed to a pale violet under-gown that was dyed the shade of twilight.

  “I thought this maidenflower layering, light green and yellow, over grass green, would be a suitable choice,” said her mother, fingering a brocade robe with long, gold-banded sleeves.

  “Maidenflower?” Ayaka pulled a face. “Isn’t that rather obvious, Mother?”

  “If Lady Ayaka were to wear a gillyflower pink robe over the violet, it would make a pleasing and subtle combination,” suggested one of the princess’s maids.

  “I like it.” Ayaka nodded her approval, reluctant to spend all afternoon arguing with her mother. “Besides, yellow doesn’t suit my complexion.”

  “Make sure to choose a suitable scent for the pink and violet layered robes,” her mother ordered. “Plum blossom would go well with the colors; a pure and unpretentious fragrance that’s bound to appeal to his imperial majesty’s refined tastes. . .”

  ***

  “Surely you’re not nervous, my lady?” Reika was combing Ayaka’s hair with regular rhythmic strokes, as she always did; Ayaka closed her eyes, relaxing for the first time that day at the familiar touch. “Isn’t this what you’ve always wanted?”

  “Mm.” Reika was right; she had been dreaming of Hotaru ever since their first meeting. What was there to be afraid of? He wasn’t an inexperienced boy who might hurt her in his eagerness. She felt the heat rising to her face as her imagination caught fire.

  “And, besides, it’s not as if he’s never laid a finger on you. Back on the seashore, he was holding you so tightly, as if to protect you with his own life. It was very gallant.”

  Why, as Reika said those words, did the memory of other arms enfolding her return so vividly? Strong arms that had saved her from drowning, tugging her from deep beneath the surging waves, as she was dragged down below the chill ocean…

  “Kaito.”

  “What was that, my lady?” Reika stopped combing.

  “D-did I say anything?” The memory had been so vivid that it had swept all thoughts of Hotaru from her mind. But I wasn’t myself then, I must have been possessed, by the spirit of Empress Himiko…I think…

  And then she remembered her mother’s instructions. She had to tell Reika that these intimate sessions must come to an end. She turned around to look at Reika. But as she looked at her maid, her confidence failed her.

  “What’s wrong, my lady?”

  Ayaka tried to speak and heard, to her dismay, a little sob issuing from her mouth.

  “Reika, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry!” Tears began to spill down her cheeks.

  “Please don’t cry.” Reika handed her a handkerchief. “It will make your eyes puffy and your nose red. And then what will his majesty think? That you’ve been crying because you don’t want to be his bride? Or that you’ve caught another cold?”

  Ayaka shook her head, trying to control herself. Reika always had a knack of bringing her to her senses. She dabbed at her eyes. “It’s just that… my mother has asked me to tell you that you will no longer be able to be my maid when I move to the imperial palace. I want you to stay, Reika, but she says I must have high-born women to attend on me.”

  Reika folded her hands in her lap. “I understand, my lady.” Her head was lowered so that Ayaka could not see her expression.

  Ayaka reached out and took Reika’s hand in her own. “Even if you can’t be my maid, I want you to stay as my bodyguard,” she said, fervently pressing the older girl’s hand. “We’ve been together for seven years. I won’t let us be separated.”

  “Thank you, my lady.” Reika’s head was still bowed and her voice, though quiet, was steady. “When the emperor named you as his bride-to-be, I realized that things could not remain the same, But if I could choose, I would ask to stay at your side – as long as his majesty doesn�
��t decide to replace me with his own bodyguards.”

  That possibility hadn’t occurred to Ayaka until now. But before she could begin to worry about it, one of her mother’s maids slid open the door and announced, “I’ve brought the gown you chose to wear this evening, my lady.”

  ***

  It’s late. Ayaka rose, pacing the room, the elaborate folds of the layered robes dragging behind her over the new tatami mats her parents had had laid in honor of her new status. If only Reika were here. We could have chatted about this and that. . .and I’d feel much less nervous.

  Every sound from the gardens outside made her jump: the rustle of the acer leaves in the night breeze; the light patter of a servant’s feet as she hastened past to attend on Princess Omiya; the voices of her father’s retainers as they patrolled the grounds.

  But he’s the emperor. He’ll come when he chooses to.

  On the low table stood a jade green porcelain bottle filled with her father’s best sake and two little cups, each one decorated with a magnolia blossom. Ayaka paced past once, then again.

  Why am I so jittery? I’m sure I wasn’t this nervous before the Tide Festival.

  She picked up the sheaf of poems Hotaru had sent her and shuffled through them. But she could not concentrate on deciphering the meticulously inked characters and, exasperated, threw them down upon the bed where they lay like a scatter of autumn leaves.

  If you’re feeling tense, her mother had advised her, then a small cup of sake will help you relax. But only the one. She could see her mother’s face, suddenly stern, one finger raised imperiously to reinforce her point. You don’t want to disgrace yourself by turning into a silly, tipsy, giggling girl. That will not impress his imperial majesty at all.

  The third time Ayaka passed the bottle, she felt her resolve weaken and she knelt down to pour a thumbful of sake into the nearest cup. She had just swallowed it, grimacing a little at the fiery aftertaste, when someone tapped discreetly on the window. The soft light of a lantern could be seen through the paper panes.

  He’s here.