Glossary: Seiryo Den -- The Emperor's personal residence; the name translates as the Pure and Fresh Palace. This is what they called it. Kicho: often translated as "screen of state," though there isn't really a western equivalent. The ladies of the Heian court concealed themselves from the gaze of men behind these screens, as one of many layers of artifice between the sexes, if perhaps the most tangible one. Not sure how they got into the habit in the first place. That must have been a weird day. Yogawa: a shrine on Mount Hiei, to the northeast of the city. There were many shrines, in the hills and mountains around the city, and the Yokibito often made pilgrimages to one or the other of them. The Japanese idea of religion seems to be very tied in with mountains, which seems appropriate to me.
V. A Shining Prince
The most persistent hate is that which doth
degenerate from love.
-- Walter Map, Courtiers' Trifles, 245
Sachiko had seen this dance before, though the dancers were different each year.
Four boys and four girls. They were sleek and supple, nimble and quick, all of them, and their shining peach and jade green robes flapped and the lacquer on their fans flashed in the sun. Sachiko had no wish to be rude to the dancers, who had worked hard for this day, and would probably never reach such heights again, but she took more pleasure in watching Yumi, who was sitting next to her on the dais reserved for the Dragon Order and their sorores. (One of the other sorceresses had objected that famulae didn't really belong on the dais, but Sachiko had used her demon eyes, and the loud mouth had closed, in some chagrin.) It was all fresh to Yumi, and she was enthralled by the dancers, and by the courtyard of the Dairi, this Inner Palace section of the Enclosure which contained the Seiryo Den, with its orange tree and cherry tree to either side of the steps leading up to the Throne Hall, spreading their branches over the Emperor, seated in state at the top of the steps, over the dancers, and over the heads of the spectators, the cherry tree in glorious bloom -- it was still a little early for the orange tree. The excitement and joy in Yumi's expressive face was more beautiful than any dance Sachiko had ever seen. But when Yumi turned her head to smile delightedly at her mistress, Sachiko felt her heart might burst with pleasure. She took Yumi's hand surreptitiously, so that the clasp was mostly hidden by their robes. Together they watched as the Emperor's chosen dancers went around and about...
...and then were joined by a strangely beautiful young man, with a face sculpted of ivory. A nobleman, by his luxurious yet tasteful wardrobe -- a dark red silk Chinese robe with a pattern of green wistaria leaves, a blue underrobe visible in slender strips below the collar -- he proceeded to lead the dancers in the next three measures. Much absurdity is written about dance, about an art that so escapes language. A dancer such as this, who outdances other dancers without seeming to give it any thought, outdances language with yet greater ease. Let us say that this splendid young man was worthy in every way to lead the Emperor's chosen dancers, and leave it at that.
The music finished, with repeated flourishes of the lutes and zithers, and strikes upon the wood-blocks, and the dancers finished in gestures of supplication to the holiest seat in the land.
The Emperor -- his pure white robes and black lacquered headdress framing the face of a boy just approaching manhood -- raised one hand.
The dancers broke up, and a break in the ceremony was signified thereby. The Emperor turned to his First Chancellor, Fujiwara no Yukinaga, who raised a finger and began to pontificate, apparently picking up a disquisition where it had been left off.
The beautiful young nobleman, seeming to shine with his own light even under Heaven's sun, began walking toward Sachiko's party.
"He's coming this way!" Yoshino-chan said, with a stifled shriek. The shriek was echoed in many birdlike throats.
"Calm yourself, Yoshino," Rei-san said irritably.
Sachiko regarded the imminent paragon with more weariness than anything. He persisted in wanting to speak to her. Words were all he had ever wanted, from her. And now, even words alone were torment to her. Most of the young women in the vicinity seemed to be following Yoshino-chan's example of going into divine-male-induced panic. Sachiko grimaced. She felt tears sting the corners of her eyes. No, not here. Please. She bit her lip. And --
-- and, O Heaven, she heard Yumi gasp at her side. Not her too, she thought. Not Yumi. She turned her head, bracing herself for the blow to the heart --
-- and found Yumi looking at her, in some concern.
"Are you all right, Mistress?" Yumi asked. She put her other hand on Sachiko's, thus clasping it alone between her two. "You seemed so sad."
Sachiko was suddenly very happy. It must have showed in her face, because Yumi smiled; indeed, she looked about to laugh. Sachiko's other hand joined the tangle of feeling between the two of them.
"I was, for an instant," Sachiko answered. "But somehow I can't feel sad when I look at you. Yumi, do you see him?"
"See who, Mistress?"
"'Whom.' The man coming toward us. The man who danced."
Yumi looked at him, and then back at Sachiko. "Yes, Mistress."
"Well? What do you think?"
"He's a very handsome man, Mistress," Yumi said doubtfully.
"But you don't feel..." What am I saying? It's obvious she doesn't. Why am I pushing? Do I want her to? We have here a girl apparently immune to the Shining One's charms. A rare bud, to be preserved against the prevailing weather at all costs. "Never mind, Yumi," she finished.
"Good morning, my dear sir," came a carelessly beautiful male voice.
Squeal, moan, coo. All around her. In Heaven's name...
There was Prince Suguru, standing before the little dais occupied by half the Dragon Order and their sorores. Sachiko glared at him. She felt oppressed by his handsome, smiling, impeccably-raimented person -- he was aware of this, which was doubtless why he was looking ostentatiously away -- and she felt oppressed by the cooing and fluttering of much of the Dragon Order surrounding her. The only blessed holdouts there were Hasekura Rei-san -- who alternated between being unwillingly moved by Suguru's beauty and greatly annoyed by the effect he invariably had upon Yoshino -- and Satou Sei-san, who was quite unmoved by his preternatural loveliness, and otherwise seemed to find him more amusing than anything.
Until her conversation with Yumi just now, Sachiko had always thought that Sei-san was unique. She didn't have to worry about Yumi in connection with Prince Suguru, it seemed, and now only had to be worried that Yumi and Sei-san had something in common.
As little as the necessity pleased her, she had to be courteous to Suguru-san. They were very public here. "Good morning, your highness," she said. "How pleasant to see you."
"An utter canard," he said lightly, "but, surrounded as we are by elegant fictions, it is difficult to avoid uttering fictions ourselves. I am pleased to see you, however; there is nothing fictional there." He was looking at her now, smiling down at her, all lordly charm and familial affection. "I propose to treat the Dragon Order, or as much of it as is here present, to ices. Does this meet with your approval, Master Sachiko, and the approval of the Order?" These last words were largely drowned out by a most energetic resurgence of cooing and fluttering, an orgiastic "yes! yes!"
May as well admit defeat, Sachiko thought, but she did her best not to sound defeated: "I don't believe our Grand Mugwump would disapprove," she said. "By all means, let us go." She rose, and so did the rest of the Order, in great excitement.
--
They had to walk to Prince Suguru's tent, which was some distance away -- out through the Dairi gates and west to the Banqueting Pine Grove. He had come in full state, as always. But he always stopped short of upstaging the Emperor. And the Emperor returned the favor by granting him considerable indulgence -- few other noblemen ever had permission to set up a personal establishment in the Pine Grove. Well, the Emperor was an impressionable young fellow, and probably a bit in awe of the elegant Suguru-san. Sachiko knew the Emperor slightly; they were related, though not closely. A nice boy, Sachiko allowed. And awfully pretty. Really, the Emperor was beautiful. Almost as beautiful as Suguru-san himself... There he was, spearheading the march to his tent, mostly towering over a sea of flushed, upturned faces, chatting easily with them... Sachiko strode along, trying not to look anyone in the eye, trying not to sulk visibly.
She felt -- and it cheered her no end to feel them -- a pair of affectionate, confiding Yumi hands clasped around her upper arm, and she heard Yumi's soft voice in her ear, just loud enough to be heard over the rapture of the Order: "Why does that man call you 'sir,' Mistress?"
"One of the 'elegant fictions' he spoke of," Sachiko sighed. "From the beginning, the leaders of our Guild have refused to allow any of us to reside behind the screens of state courtly women use. At first this refusal was the cause of much contention. Ultimately, the court decided to just address us as men. To pretend we were men."
Yumi had a look on her face Sachiko had never seen there before. "But that's..." Yumi said, and stopped.
From Sachiko's other side, Sei-san said, "I think 'crazy' is the word you're searching for, young Yumi."
Yumi looked carefully at Sachiko's feet.
Sachiko sighed again. On the one hand, she didn't want Yumi to absorb Sei-san's disrespectful attitude toward the court, and the Good People generally. On the other hand, she happened to agree with Sei-san on this point. This would require careful navigation. "Yumi, the court has centuries of tradition behind it. These traditions are the court, in a way; the traditions, the court, the Emperor -- it all adds up to our national religion. Now, the way to keep ancient traditions going is to ignore, as far as possible, any new developments that don't harmonize well with them. So women who act like men have to be men. For the sake of tradition."
"Ah hah!" Sei-san cried. "Well done, Sachiko. Yes, it all makes sense now."
"But you don't act like a man, Mistress." Yumi was looking Sachiko in the eye again, in some perplexity.
"No, I don't. I am a sorceress, a woman. I practice a woman's magic. But as a group, we do a lot of things men traditionally do, and not women."
"Really?"
"Truly! Obvious example: you've seen Sei-san and Rei-san handle swords. They're quite good at it, and it's not traditionally a woman's art. Not all sorceresses are swordhands -- I'm not -- but enough are for it to be significant. Also, and this is something you'll see for yourself soon, the gathering of edible plants is traditionally men's work. But we sorceresses do a lot of traveling in the terrible wilds -- much more than any of the men of the Capital -- and we don't take men along for plant-gathering purposes of course, or any other purposes, so we've just got into the habit of doing it ourselves.
"Also, we ride to the wars."
"W-we do?" Yumi clung tighter to Sachiko's arm. Sachiko felt a slight tremor in that arm.
"We do," Sachiko continued. "I've already been to Koryo once myself. I'd much rather not, personally, but we're men -- officially -- and we have useful powers, which is more to the point, so we're more or less obligated to. If we were to refuse to go, the Emperor might decide we were an unrewarding use of Imperial monies, more trouble than we were worth, and withdraw his sanction of our Guild. That wouldn't be the end of us, of course, but it would be troublesome... Oh, there are other things. It's too much to explain just now, Yumi, but you will always hear courtiers address us as 'sir' or 'master' or, for preference, they will avoid giving us any gender at all. And it's best for us to play along."
"If you say so, Mistress."
Yumi had a head-bowed, submissive-famula posture on. Sachiko couldn't be sure what Yumi was thinking when she did that. "We can talk about it more later, Yumi. It's all right if it sounds... a bit strange... to you --"
"Barking mad," Sei-san murmured.
Sachiko glowered at Sei-san, then turned back to Yumi with a gentler look. "Just don't say so to anyone else. All right?"
"Probably good advice," said Prince Suguru.
Sachiko managed not to jump. He had surprised her, and she suspected he knew it, but if she showed surprise he'd gain points --
"Who is this charming young gentleman?" Suguru-san wondered, gazing benignly down upon Yumi. Yumi looked back up at him with deep skepticism.
"He is Nanashi Yumi-kun, your Imperial Highness," Sei-san said, sketching a bow. "Sachiko's brand new soror -- excuse me, 'frater'! -- mystica, or mystico, or something. I'll give you fair warning; he's a bit more girly than the sort of charming young gentleman you normally consort with, your splendiferousness."
"You still have not learnt to behave yourself, I see." Suguru-san spoke to Sei-san without looking at her. He kept his gentle, arresting gaze on Yumi, who merely looked back at him and continued to hold onto Sachiko.
Sei-san chose to respond to Suguru-san's snub by walking close to him -- impolitely close, so that her robes, indeed her legs, were brushing his. "I choose to work toward the goals I set for myself," she said chattily, "rather than the goals other people set for me. For example, if I were to suggest that you spend too much money on silk scarves, you would hardly adjust your annual budget according to my suggestion, would you?"
Suguru-san seemed set on ignoring Sei-san's determined co-ambulation with him. "Your aspect is most pleasing. Of what family are you?" he asked Yumi, as if Sei-san had not spoken.
"Sachiko-sama's," was all Yumi said. She looked him in the eye when she said it, though.
"Or, to take another example, if the head of our Order were to suggest that you ought to donate your palace to us for combat exercises, and feed us at the end of the day, you'd be inclined to tell her to lump it, wouldn't you?"
"Indeed?" One of Suguru-san's exquisitely crafted eyebrows went up. "Sacchan has a cousin called Touko-chan. I know Sacchan's family quite well, being a member of it, and I don't recall hearing of you before now."
Sachiko had told Yumi to say she was an Ogasawara cousin, if anyone asked. The easiest, most sensible excuse -- provided it wasn't used on someone who knew Sachiko's family tree from back to front. It was time to step in. "And yet, she is my family, in a way," Sachiko said. "She is my famula, and will soon be my soror mystica. And I will thank you to stop quizzing her in that disrespectful fashion."
"Sacchan! Sacchan! No disrespect was intended, I assure -- urgh!" Suguru-san stumbled, righted himself, and turned quickly. "You damned knave, will you quit walking so close to me?"
He used rough language, and he nearly raised his voice, Sachiko thought. Well done, Sei-san.
"Oh, sorry about that, o shiny one," Sei-san said, looking more gleeful than sorry. "I think your perfume made me a bit dizzy. Everyone! Be careful not to walk too close to his Highness! If you put a foot wrong he might chip a toenail, and what a sodding nightmare that would be!"
A couple of sorceresses walking nearby gasped. One said "Sei-sama! How rude!"
"Sei-san --" Sachiko began, knowing it was no use.
"Your concern for my accoutrements is entirely charming," Suguru-san said to Sei-san, smiling wickedly, "especially given that you seem to have no concern for your own. You dress like a highwayman. And you wish to be taken for a woman?"
"I wish not to be taken at all," Sei-san rejoined with an easy grin of her own, "which is why I do things to my own specifications rather than yours. And really, if a man of your stamp suggests that I am unwomanly, what cause have I to repine?"
"A man of my 'stamp'?" Suguru-san's tone in response was only mildly antagonistic, giving the impression that he was refuting a philosophical argument rather than fending off a personal attack. "What do you endeavor to suggest by such a remark? I suppose I have the same qualifications for pronouncing on such matters as any man. Convince me otherwise!"
"Oh! Well. You think your qualifications that good? Daresay you're right." Sei-san smirked, made an odd stroking motion in midair with her curled right hand, and then buffed her nails on the front of her tunic. "Pronounce away, if it gives you pleasure. Pronounce yourself raw. Meanwhile, I'll do what pleases me."
They had arrived at the pavilion. Suguru-san said, "What a fascinating conversation, my man. We must continue it another day." And he clapped his hands together twice, briskly: "Ices!"
Three beautiful young men wearing servants' tunics with striking red sashes leapt to their feet -- they had been sitting on the grass and apparently playing an impromptu game of Go with pebbles and twigs -- opened baskets and proceeded to serve out ices.
Yoshino-chan came to Yumi, talking excitedly about liana syrup. Yumi gave Sachiko a questioning look, and Sachiko gave Yumi a smile and a gentle shove in Yoshino-chan's direction. Deep down, she didn't much like surrendering Yumi to someone else, but -- she'd watched Yumi talking to Yoshino-chan. Yoshino-chan's company made Yumi happy in a way Sachiko hadn't seen her, otherwise.
The ultimate sacrifice, for Yumi's sake. Now she was stuck with Suguru-san, and a beaming Sei-san just over the horizon. Sachiko allowed herself to indulge for a moment in the sweet sorrow of renunciation.
"Sacchan," Suguru-san said, in as close as he got to a complaining tone, "whenever I see you these days, it seems to require me to also consort with that bounder."
"Bounder," came an amused murmur from nearby.
"A female bounder is a novel experience without question, but it cannot be called an amiable one. Is it really necessary for you to have the creature always about you?"
"Creature," came the murmur again.
"She is my friend," Sachiko said.
Those heartbreakingly lovely eyebrows of his were arched high. "And you approve of all she does?"
"No. But I don't have to. As long as we're relatively private here, I may as well ask you why you speak to me anyway?"
"Do I have to have a reason? We are bound together, you and I. You know how many ties as well as I or better. What reason do I need, beyond these?"
"You get nothing out of it, except your ghastly entertainment," said Sachiko. "And I get nothing at all except pain and confusion. I would be immensely gratified if you would stop."
"You don't answer your parents' letters," Suguru-san said.
A sudden change of subject. As it was one of Sachiko's own little vices -- she and Suguru-san had much more in common than she liked to think about -- she couldn't really complain. "Nonsense. I answer every letter. They wrote me last week, and I sent a reply the next day."
"You send back cheap paper with expensive writing on it, but you don't answer the one question they're really asking you: when are you coming home?"
"You have been talking with my father, I think." Sachiko was speaking very calmly, in spite of the rage building within her. "He talks about how expensive my writing is. He admittedly paid a fairly large sum three years back to establish me at the Guild. He has sent no other money since, but he talks as if I am always taking money from him."
"And you haven't answered me, either," Suguru-san said, giving her an admonishing look. "We are your family, your father and I. Sooner or later, you have to give us an accounting of yourself."
"Yes. The Ogasawara family ideal. I have always studied to accommodate it. I will give you my answer now, my lord prince. You may pass it along to my father, and I pray it will content you both. I do not propose to come home any time soon. What I do propose to do, very soon now, is refund my father the Guild monies he put up for me."
"Sacchan!..."
Suguru-san looked appalled. And it wasn't often that Sachiko caught that sort of uncertainty on his face. She felt triumphant. "Yes. And then he can stop complaining about how expensive my writing is."
"Sacchan... This is going too far, really." He was controlling himself now, looking carefully anywhere but at her. "For you to think that you could buy off your father, as if he were a crude extortionist --"
"He is my father. I find the idea less surprising than you seem to."
"Sacchan..."
"He really spent very little on me before I came to the Guild -- not nearly as much as he spends on entertaining guests, and his women -- but of course it is impertinent in a daughter to think that she ought to be as important to a father as a guest in his home, or a whore in his bed. We can negotiate, and if I think his demands fair, I will work to raise another sum, though 'twill be a lesser one than the first. And I will raise it, for as young as I am, my skills are in demand, in some quarters. And I will pay, and he and I will be done."
"Sacchan, this is childish."
"Childish?" came the mocking voice from behind him, and he spun to confront the speaker. "She's offering to pay her debts. Sounds pretty grown-up to me."
"How dare you interfere in a private conversation between your betters!" Suguru-san was shaking with rage.
"I am a sorceress," Sei-san said, unfazed. "I have no betters. A prince should know what power means." She pointed a finger, but kept her voice level. "And it's not for you to say who's allowed to talk, and who isn't. Not your job."
"You seem very sure of all this." Suguru-san had gone all calm again. "Greater authorities than either you or I have set different precedents, of course. Is there any way I can convince you to at least find out what they had to say, as opposed to spending all your time in your own dream world?"
"If you can beat me two falls out of three, I'll consider it," Sei-san said. She was still smiling but her eyes were deadly serious.
Suguru-san looked back at her, motionless for a moment, then said, "You are a savage," and turned back to his cousin. "Sachiko, family ties bind too tightly, and blood runs too deep. Your connection with your family cannot be erased with money. That is childish, a fantasy, and I am shocked that you could think it possible. Please tell me that you are overtired, or that your inexplicable antipathy for me has caused you to lose your temper, to say too much --"
Sachiko was unutterably weary, suddenly; weary of everything, especially of Sei-san and Suguru-san, and herself. The one person she wasn't weary of was off with Yoshino-chan having ices, and Sachiko wished she were with them. She wasn't overtired -- she had actually slept quite well last night, with her nice clean little fox snuggled against her -- but she had lost her temper, and she had said too much. She had blabbed her plans to her mortal enemy, in the hope of making him lose his sangfroid, his hideous conviction of his own rightness, and that was childish stupidity. The stupidest. "Yes," she said. "Yes, it's true. I lost my temper and I said too much. I have no intention of attempting to buy myself from my father, to purchase my freedom from his tyranny. It's all lies and fustian, an expression of my inexplicable -- inex --" She couldn't go on. Her throat had closed, it seemed. To speak of her hatred was to speak of her love, and to speak of her love was to put her death in his hands.
She had natheless said enough to make him angry. His eyes were flashing, and those ravishing slim white hands were turning clawlike. "Why do you insist upon --"
And then, a miracle shone through the mists.
"Master Sachiko, I greet you in the name of the Emperor," said a new voice. There was a man bowing at her, a middle-aged man in purple robes. Sachiko vaguely recognized him as the current Chief Constable of the City of the Right. As far as she knew, the position was hereditary. "His Majesty requests your presence at the main pavilion," the man drawled in easy, uninquisitive tones. "He wishes to consult with you and your colleagues on a matter of some importance."
"Thank you for your diligence," Sachiko told the man absently, though her heart was singing. Leaving Suguru-san to stew while she went to advise the Emperor would be pure pleasure. She debated for a moment about bringing Yumi, but...there she was, with Yoshino-chan and some other Ox- and Rat-level sorceresses. She was one of the group. They were eating ices, talking and laughing, having the time of their lives... No. She turned to Sei-san, who was looking right at her. "Sei-san, if Yumi wonders where I am, will you tell her I'll return soon?"
"Gladly," Sei-san said. "I'll keep an eye on her, Sachiko."
"Thank you," Sachiko said, as thankfully as she could manage, and she went.
--
Suguru had stalked off immediately Sachiko had departed, without a word to Sei. I will bear the desolation somehow, Sei thought, and looked about her. The younger ones were having a lovely time over there. Yumi seemed to be really popular. Well, she was pretty, and she had a sweet disposition, but Sei suspected that her proximity to Sachiko made up a large part of her magnetism. Sachiko fascinated everybody -- even Sei, and Sei was usually bored by the nobility. But then, Sei lived with Sachiko. Youko had entrusted Sachiko to her three years ago, saying "Look after her," and Sei had done her best. She had watched as Sachiko slowly moved away from home, in her head, and in her heart; as Miss Hoity-Toity had gradually dropped the Hoity and the Toity, and learned more about people. She still had blind spots, many of them. But most importantly, she had ceased to be certain of her own rightness, and the rightness of her upbringing. Paradoxically, in flight from her upbringing, in rebellion against it, she had still clung to it; it was all she had known.
Sei knew about that. Sei knew how difficult it could be to move away from home for good, though she and Sachiko had had to move in different directions to wind up in the same place. And Sei, of course, had traveled a much greater distance geographically, if not spiritually...
She thought about going over there to join Yumi and Yoshino, and decided that it wouldn't do. Yoshino and the others wouldn't mind her being there -- though juniors were always self-conscious around seniors, especially a senior with such a reputation as Sei had. (And of course every single girl over there had a mistress already, or she wouldn't be here today -- oh yes, and Sei had a soror mystica, for certain.) But Yumi was still uneasy around Sei, and suspicious of her. And the little darling was having such a good time it would be a sin to destroy it. Look at her: no longer clinging to Yoshino as the only familiar face in a sea of strangers, she and two girls Sei didn't know were playing at throwing ice in the air and catching it in their mouths.
Yoshino, for her part, was chatting with two of the sleek young men who'd served the ices; there was a lot of grinning and foot-shuffling going on. Rei was nowhere in sight. That was an old story. It was painful for Rei to watch Yoshino mingling with the opposite sex, but she was unwilling to interfere with Yoshino's pleasures, so she would take herself off somewhere. A poor policy -- oh, there wasn't much danger here, but Rei obviously hadn't ever been lectured by noisy red-faced loving parents about the dreadful things that could happen to young women who mingled with men unaccompanied --
"Mistress?"
Sei turned, but knew from the voice, and of course the form of address, who would be there. Her gaze fell upon a face she still, after three months of knowing it, regarded as the most beautiful she had ever seen, save one.
"Oi, Shimako," she said cheerfully.
--
Sachiko entered the front room of the Jijuden, the Emperor's personal lodge just north of the Throne Hall, and came into the Presence warily. She saw that Youko-sama and Fujiwara-dono were already there -- oh, and there was Suga-sama coming in, in all her splendour; apparently she'd been summoned as well. She was doing her very best not to acknowledge Sachiko's presence, or at least no more than was necessary in pushing past her to greet the Emperor first.
Sachiko was more amused than offended by this now, though such had not always been the case. Suga-sama's antics were legendary in the Guild. She had come of a servant family, but had managed to work her way up not only in the Sorceress's Guild, but in courtly circles as well -- not an ordinary achievement, give her credit. She had many highly-placed contacts in Government, and was very useful to the Guild that way, from all Sachiko heard. She had seemed to resent Sachiko, for some reason, from the day Sachiko had first arrived in the Guild, and she had always been Sachiko's least pleasant teacher. But Sachiko had long since learned that as long as she was properly respectful to Suga-sama, and kept her own nose clean, there was no way Suga-sama could really damage her.
She waited for Suga-sama to finish her greetings, which were elaborate and ceremonious to a degree consonant with Suga-sama's notion of her own importance.
When this was over at last, Sachiko advanced the requisite distance, knelt, and bowed low.
"Rise," the Emperor husked, in a voice that was still working its way toward manhood.
"Hullo, Ogasawara-kun," said Fujiwara-dono. "I'm a bit surprised you're here without your pet."
"She's having a good time, Fujiwara-dono," Sachiko said evenly. "I didn't want to drag her away." She felt some resentment at hearing Yumi referred to as her "pet," but she couldn't resent it publicly, in front of the Emperor. Anyway, if she showed yet more insolence to Fujiwara-dono, after yesterday, Youko-sama would probably send her to bed without any supper.
"Your pet?" the Emperor asked, in a tone of friendly inquiry.
Sachiko had always found that, when a subject came up which one did not wish to discuss in present company, a fully responsive yet not very exciting answer was best. "My servant -- my student, in truth," Sachiko said. "A charming young person, your majesty. The young students are currently disporting themselves at Prince Suguru's pavilion." She sent Youko-sama an inquiring look. Youko-sama shrugged philosophically.
"Oh! You have an imouto, Sacchan?"
Sachiko knew that voice. She sent an astonished glare in its direction. And there, stepping in through the wide entrance to the main chamber, was a very familiar young woman, only a year or two older than Sachiko herself. One she had not expected to see again any time soon.
"Eriko-sama!" she breathed.
"Good to see you again, honey," said Torii Eriko-sama happily, walking up to Sachiko. "I understand you've done quite well for yourself. Distinguished yourself in southern Honshu over the winter, and promoted to Dragon Level. Well done! We expect great things of you, Sacchan. And I'm sure Youko's very proud of you!"
"Eriko-sama, I thought you had married."
"Do you know, I had?" Eriko-sama answered chirpily. "Can we talk about something else, please?"
Sachiko's eyes narrowed, and her mind moved very swiftly. The wedding had been in the autumn of last year, to a well-to-do artisan, a maker of umbrellas -- a very odd choice, given Eriko-sama's lineage: a warrior family with aspirations to gentility. Eriko-sama was somewhat over-fathered and over-brothered, and it was a charming miracle that her intended had survived the courtship. Eriko-sama had been blooming at the wedding, dressed in twenty robes, all in different bright colors, her hair unbound, freed. Then there had been nothing for months, and they had all assumed she was happily married. Now she turns up at the Spring Dance without warning, her hair done up under a headband as of old, dressed in sorceress's robes once again, but now done entirely in black -- dusty black leather for her outer cloak, shiny black silk for her inner robe, deep and opaque. Hm. Not her usual rig-out, from what I can remember. And she's smiling a bit over-pleasantly, and doesn't want to discuss her marriage. Also, behind Eriko-sama, there was Youko-sama shaking her head at Sachiko vigorously, and Fujiwara-dono drawing lots of lines across her throat with her fingers and making sharp little whistling noises.
All this passed through Sachiko's mind in a winking.
"Of course, Eriko-sama," Sachiko said pleasantly. "I'm sure there are all sorts of other things to discuss."
"Indeed!" Eriko-sama said. "It's a big world, after all. No end of other things to talk about! Oh, and you've been summoned for a particular purpose, haven't you? I'm interrupting! I am sorry, your Imperial Majesty," Eriko-sama said, turning to the Emperor.
"Not at all," he said quickly. "Er, just one question, Torii-san -- why black?"
"Because it is the color of night, and the banner of the destructive forces that wage perpetual warfare against all hope and happiness, your Imperial Majesty," Eriko-sama said with a sweet, charming smile. "I thought it appropriate."
Fujiwara-dono was now trying to catch the Emperor's eye, her lips moving vehemently yet issuing no sound, and the lines across her throat had been abandoned in favor of great slashing gestures in midair. Youko-sama had buried her face in her hands.
"I see," the Emperor said, nodding. Then he shook his head, and then he nodded again. Then he stared at Fujiwara-dono, and then he cleared his throat. Sachiko felt some sympathy with him. Plainly it was proving to be a challenging day. "Er -- well. Well, to business, Auntie."
Suga-sama sent the Emperor a cool look, with one speculative eyebrow raised, but of course said nothing.
"Yes, your Majesty," Fujiwara-dono said, resuming her ordinary decorum. "To business, Mizuno-san."
"Yes, Fujiwara-dono," Youko-sama said. "Sachiko, please come closer."
Sachiko walked toward the throne. She took slow, measured steps. She opened her pouch. She met Youko-sama's eye.
Youko-sama nodded, very slightly.
Sachiko reached into her pouch, and brought out the shining golden thing.
No-one spoke for a few moments.
"Put it away, Sachiko," Youko said at last, and Sachiko complied.
Although the object was no longer visible, some of the golden light it had shed still lingered on the Emperor's face. It shifted, this way and that, playing over his whole face -- including his eyes, and yet he seemed unaware of it. He was aware, after a few moments, that everyone was staring at him.
"Have I got something on my nose?" he inquired nervously.
Fujiwara-dono waved a hand. The light left the Emperor's face; as it did so, he tried to make a minute examination of it, but succeeded only in crossing his eyes.
It danced sadly for them in midair, for a few moments, and was gone.
"It's never done that before," Sachiko said.
"Does it have some significance?" the Emperor wondered, still staring at the place where the light had vanished for good.
"Difficult to say," Fujiwara-dono said, in a musing tone, looking at the same place.
"No doubt it was a mark of favor," Suga-sama said. "Wishing the Emperor a long and prosperous reign."
Sachiko wondered about that, in the silence that followed. That tone of voice from Fujiwara-dono seldom boded well. Youko-sama had once described it as the tone she got when there were a number of thoughts running through her mind and she didn't like the look of any of them.
--
"So are you ready for the Questioning?" Sei asked her imouto.
"As ready as I'll ever be, I suppose," was her lugubrious answer.
"Hath courage run aground, dear heart?"
Shimako turned those sweetly ethereal eyes fully on her, and Sei sighed a little. "It's just -- I've heard you and Sachiko-sama and Rei-sama talk about it, and from what you say, it doesn't sound too hard -- the actual business of talking to the Divine One is left to the Guild leader there present and the Grand Mugwump of the Dragon Order. And the rest of us just have to sing, as odd as that sounds. But from the tone of what you say, there's more to it than that..."
"There is more to it than that, especially this year. Trouble is, we don't know just what that more will be. Bad, good, indifferent? The high council's out to lunch. So we don't talk about it a lot."
"What exactly is it you're not talking about a lot, Sei?"
"I can't tell you, I'm afraid. You happen to be close to the four dragons -- Sachiko, Rei, Youko, myself -- who know anything about it at all, so I guess you've had more opportunity to put two and two together than most. But we've all been sworn to secrecy by Fujiwara-dono. So we can't discuss it. Understood?"
"Yes."
"So what will you do?" Sei grinned.
Shimako put a hand on Sei's arm. "Trust you and wait."
Sei loved that about Shimako. If it had been anyone else asking, Sei would have used such verbal footwork and legerdemain, such sleights and sophistries as would make a missionary blush. Shimako was smart enough not to fall for any of that. But Shimako was also smart enough to know that if it was something she really needed to know, for her safety, then Sei would tell her and damn secrecy.
Sei just wished she could have the same certainty about the higher-ups... she was pretty sure Fujiwara-dono wouldn't lead them wrong, but was less sure of the seldom-visible Shonagon-sama, and with Suga-sama it was almost a joke -- Suga-sama might avoid telling herself the truth, if the truth happened to be inconvenient to her...
"How did you find me?" Sei asked, longing for a change of subject. "You just got here, didn't you?"
"Yes. I was sorry to miss the Dance. But I heard a voice, a portent ringing out clearly in the morning mists: 'Sei-san! How rude!' I was fairly sure I knew which Sei-san was so portented, and so I followed the sound."
"You know me so well!" Sei said happily, draping an affectionate arm around Shimako's shoulders. "Look, the Mountain Lily Gang has a new member, and I think you ought to meet her. She's completely new to the fancy, and I'm sure she'd benefit from your advice. She's right over there -- " She indicated the scrum by the refreshment baskets.
"Really? Which one is she?" Shimako was looking eagerly.
"She...she's...gone," Sei said.
"Oh. Oh, dear. Well, perhaps another time --"
"No," Sei said, a little too loudly. "She shouldn't be gone. And, damn her hide, Yoshino's gone as well. She shouldn't be gone."
"What, isn't Rei-sama with her?"
"No, Yoshino was talking to boys. You know what that does to Rei. The little alley-cat --" Sei trailed off.
"Suguru," she said a moment later.
The Shining One had vanished as well.
That was enough. That was about the limit. Sei ran briefly, and then was fighting her way through the frolicking juniors, a bit overenthusiastically. One of the ice baskets got in her way, and she kicked it vehemently -- "Filthy luxury!" she roared -- and thus all three ice baskets capsized and several liana bowls became airborne, spraying cold water and bits of ice and sticky, suddenly-no-longer-elegant syrup everywhere. There was much shrieking and wailing among the younger sorceresses, who of course had all got dressed up in their best for this festive occasion. There was a panicked stampede, and the tent was empty in moments except for Shimako, Sei, and one girl Sei had managed to pluck out of the mass exodus, recognizing her as one of the girls she'd seen playing at ice-toss with Yumi. "Oi! You! Girl!"
"Crazy!" the girl squealed. "You've gone crazy, Sei-sama!"
"Crazy like a FOX!" Sei said much too loudly, taking the girl gently by the collar and lifting her up on tip-toes. "Where is Yumi, damn your eyes?"
The girl burst into tears.
"Well, what the --" Sei spluttered. "Now as Christ is my witness, I --"
"Sei, she doesn't know from God or Christ; she's a Buddhist," Shimako said calmly. "Let me talk to her. Will you let her down, please?"
"Sure," Sei said, dropping the girl. Sei was a bit unnerved.
Shimako steadied the girl and sat her down on a bench. "There, there. My Mistress didn't mean anything by it... Well, I suppose she did mean something by it, but she didn't mean to frighten you..."
There was a brief interval, in which Shimako comforted the weeping girl, and Sei paced. Calm, calm. It's not Shimako's fault, it's not this girl's fault. Prince Suguru has got the better of you. That's your fault...
True. But this was taking too much time. Sei looked at the weeping girl. Apart from the fact that her nose was running, she was somewhat fetching. And she had a scar on one cheek, so Sei felt some kinship with her. Another approach occurred to her. With a glance at Shimako, she sat down on the girl's other side. "I'm sorry," she said. "Will you listen, now? I'm sorry."
The girl looked at her reproachfully. Her face was a mess of tears. Sei put an arm around the girl's shoulders. "What's your name, little sister?"
Shimako arched an eyebrow. Sei paid her no heed.
"Sadako," the girl whispered.
Sei used the edge of one sleeve to dry Sadako's face. She was as gentle and tender as she knew how to be. She even sang a little as she dried, looking intently into Sadako's eyes. The girl couldn't have understood the words, they were in a faraway tongue, but they seemed still to soothe her:
In the oncoming
morning I'll be bidding adieu
To Leitrim, Drumshanbo and sweet Carrick too;
But no
matter what fortunes I may seek far away,
My thoughts will be with you by night and by
day.
No more will I ramble round Hartnett's green hills.
And the place I love
dearest is down by the mill;
Its great fertile valley where oft times I ran
And felt
the fresh breezes round the shores of Lough Bran.
"A little better now, sweeting?" Sei asked gently.
The girl nodded. She looked almost sleepy.
"You were playing with a friend of mine, a short while ago. Yumi. I'm sorry I spoke so roughly to you, Sadako-chan, but I need to find her. I'm responsible for her, and I'm a little worried that she's just disappeared like this. Do you have any notion of where she might have gone?"
"She went with Prince Suguru," Sadako said. She looked a bit woozy.
"With Suguru?" Sei was on the point of exploding again, but controlled herself. "That's what I thought she might have done, but I couldn't believe it. Why would she go with Suguru?" What in the world would Suguru want with her?
"I'm sorry, Sei-sama, but I didn't know," Sadako answered. She was looking fixedly up into Sei's eyes. "I didn't want her to go. I don't have many friends, and Yumi-san is very nice. The prince said he had something important to talk to her about, and that it concerned Sachiko-sama. She nodded, told me she'd be a few minutes, and went with him. They went that way," she added, pointing slightly west of south, but still not taking her eyes off Sei. "Toward the gardens."
"Thank you, sweetheart," Sei said. "You've done me a service. I must do you a service some time. Remind me!" Sei patted the girls' shoulders, and stood. "Now, where'd Shimako get to? This just gets better and better. Never mind --" She began hurrying toward the gardens...
Sadako started to follow her, and stopped. Then she just stood and watched her go.
--
"The warrior families are a growing problem," Suga-sama was saying. "If we in the Sorceress's Guild are to hold any kind of balance, we must have all our awe and prestige intact. Our powers are key, and no one might take our powers from us, at all events. But also of importance is our connection with Amaterako-sama. And that is in large part embodied in the object Ogasawara-kun showed you a few minutes ago."
"You've been presenting it to her every year," the Emperor said. "Correct?"
"Correct," said Fujiwara-dono.
"And every year she gives it back at the end of the Questioning?"
"Such has always been the case." Suga-sama nodded.
"Why is it necessary for you to go through that rigamarole every spring?" said the Emperor in an almost offensively reasonable tone of voice. "I mean to say. If she wants it, let her keep it. If she doesn't want it, you can keep it."
"An interesting point of view, Toru-chan," Fujiwara-dono said, in a very similar tone. "Immensely practical. Tell me...that dance we all watched a little while ago, with great delight, I'm sure. Is it really necessary? I mean some person or persons in your court goes to tremendous trouble every year to scour the country for dancers. Heaven forbid you saw the same dancer two years in a row --"
"Yes, yes, Oba-san," the Emperor interrupted hurriedly. "You are quite right, of course, and I withdraw the question. So. She has always given it back at the end of the Questioning. But last year --"
"Last year was different," mused Fujiwara-dono. "She held it longer, at the last, looked at it longer, and as she handed it back to Amaya-kun, she spoke to it, saying "Next year you come home to me."
"What did she mean by that?"
"Probably exactly what she said. This will be the last year we can carry this object as an offering. It may be about to hatch. But just what the outcome or upshot will be, I don't know."
"And you bring this up --"
"We will need a new object for the offering, next year. If we are to preserve our necessary status, as Suga-sama just explained. I have my eye on one which ought to meet with Amaterako-sama's approval. But it will be expensive --"
"And that is the reason of the preposterous sum you have requested?"
Suga-sama spoke up. "I assure you, my Emperor, Fujiwara-dono has not exaggerated in the slightest. It will be a great expenditure, but quite necessary --"
Fujiwara-dono held a gentle finger up, her eyes narrowing. "It was thy nuncle told thee 'twas a preposterous sum, warn't it?"
"Well --" The Emperor blushed a bit.
"Yuki-chan is good at minding the purse-strings, all right. But tell him this from me: if he wants to continue to call upon our services in time of war..."
"Auntie, you would refuse your duty?" The Emperor was looking at her wide-eyed.
"Not happily, Toru-chan. But if we cannot bring her the offering each year, she may well turn her face away from us for good. If that happens, it will be difficult for us to --"
"Pardon -- intrusion!" A young sorceress, out of breath, had rushed into the room from the darkening day. She was dripping wet and the front of her robes looked slimy, almost as if they had taken a direct hit from a big blob of liana syrup.
"What is the meaning of this?" the Emperor inquired with stern formality, his voice cracking on the first syllable of "meaning."
"I beg your forgiveness, your Imperial Majesty. Fujiwara-dono -- chaos and discord at Prince Suguru's tent, in the Pine Grove -- violence -- ice-baskets overturned -- newbies in tears -- Satou Sei-sama has run mad --"
"What!" Youko stepped forward quickly.
"Calmly, calmly, my pet," Fujiwara-dono said, taking the girl's hand. "Watanabe-kun, is it not?"
"Y-yes, Fujiwara-dono --"
"And what do you say to the day, little one? A beautiful Dance, eh? Did you have fun at Prince Suguru's tent?"
"Yes -- a lovely time, Fujiwara-dono -- UNTIL --" Watanabe-kun screwed up her face, as if warding off tears.
"Why has Satou-san run mad, then? Any notion?"
"She said -- she'd lost someone she was supposed to be looking after, and --"
There was a rustle and a flash of azure silk robes, and Sachiko was gone.
"Now -- now what in the tarnation --" the Emperor was very curious to know.
--
Hasekura Rei had been having a lovely day until he'd shown up.
Truthfully, Prince Suguru had never seemed much of a direct threat. He'd never pursued Yoshino, not even in a momentary fashion. Maybe she was too young for him, or not sufficiently a lady, or something. This never seemed to discourage Yoshino at all, however. Walking to the Prince's tent, she'd been in the cluster of rats and young oxen closest to him. Rei had been utterly forgotten, and left to wander the earth alone for the rest of her days, trailing along behind, eating her own heart... She would keep telling herself not to be overdramatic, of course. Yoshino had done this sort of thing before -- with Prince Suguru, and with other beautiful noblemen -- though no other noblemen were quite on the same level as Suguru, curse him. Indeed, for a short while, Yoshino had had a crush on Emperor Rokutoru, had called him "the adorable Emperor-chan," and so on.
But she had always come back to Rei in the end, so she would this time too. Wouldn't she?...
Things had got worse in Prince Suguru's tent. His serving-boys were nearly as pretty as he was, and not nearly as standoffish. Rei actually heard them talking to Yoshino about fishing, of all things. About what expert fishermen they were. And Yoshino, who had often fished and caught dinner for the whole Gang when they were traveling, had listened to them attentively, ooh-ing and aah-ing all the while, the little fraud.
Rei had almost been able to see the boys' thoughts, serving boys unencumbered by the courtly need to see the sorceresses as strangely shaped men: Here's a girl who doesn't hide herself behind a screen. An easy girl...
It was too much. Rei had gone for a walk.
The conversation, more than an argument, almost a war, which Rei had with herself on this walk, is best not recorded. She went around and around in her own head, cursing herself for a fool, and pleading with herself not to be so hard-hearted. Let Yoshino have her fun, she had pleaded with herself. As long as she comes back to me at the end of the day, I don't mind where she goes for lunch, do I?
Don't you? herself had answered.
...Yes, she did. This was too much. Ignoring for once the stateliness imposed by the grandeur of the Enclosure, she had run back to Suguru's tent --
And Yoshino was gone. And so were the serving-boys. She thought to ask Suguru where his boys had gone, hoping to get the little dastards into trouble at least, but, oddly, Suguru had also disappeared. It wasn't like him to leave his guests to their own devices that way.
How long was I gone? she'd thought to herself, her self-control slipping away as she looked frantically this way and that. One turn around the courtyard at most. Impossible.
She'd dashed out into the sunlight once more, only to find a huge cloud going over the sun, a cloud piled high with white fluff, and with threatening dark bits on its underbelly. There were shadows everywhere, suddenly, and her Yoshino might have been stolen away into any one of them --
In and out between buildings and temples and concubines' palaces, "Yoshino? Yoshino!" And nothing, and nothing, and nothing. She kept approaching people to ask them questions and they kept running away. Why? What in the world was the matter with them all?
Even in the haze in which she was wandering, she managed to detain the next party passing by. A concubine, this woman was. Easy to see. All the courtly points of self-decoration, most prominently the long, long free-flying hair obscuring the features, the powdered face, the plucked eyebrows, the blackened, scarcely visible teeth. Truly splendid robes, much too rich for a servant.
"Don't run!" Rei shouted. "Don't you dare run! I have questions for you!"
The woman's attendants scattered, and she fell to her knees, trembling. "Spare me! I beg of you!"
Fortunately, Shimako-chan turned up at this point. "Rei-sama?" And there she was at Rei's side.
"Shimako-chan!" Rei said. "It's good to see you. I'm, er..."
"Looking for Yoshino-san."
"However did you know that?"
"Best not gone into now, I think, Rei-sama. Hadn't you better put away your sword? I think you're frightening this lady."
Rei looked down. She was, in fact, holding her sword, positioned for a horizontal, left-to-right slash. She had no recollection of having drawn it.
She sheathed it. This was rather embarrassing.
Shimako-chan knelt so as to be on the same level with the lady. "Please don't judge my friend too harshly," she said. "She has lost track of a girl who is her very dearest friend, indeed, her cousin. Can you help us to find her?"
The lady had stopped trembling. "Two braids? Beautiful, mysterious eyes? Was she with a couple of boys?"
"Yes, exactly."
"They went in there," she said, pointing at a nearby shed. "It's a storehouse, I think. I've never been in there."
"Thanks very much for your time, my lady," Shimako-chan said, in her most cultured tones, and turned to Rei. "Shall we?"
Rei struggled with herself as they crunched over white gravel. Shimako-chan had been so helpful. How to tell her?... "I should do this alone, Shimako-chan."
"If you want me to hide my eyes at an appropriate moment, I will, Rei-sama," Shimako-chan said. "But I think I should come with you."
Shimako-chan spoke Lady more fluently than anyone else in the Gang, with the obvious exception of Sachiko. As far as Rei could tell, what she'd just said translated as, "I have my own reasons for coming along, and any request that I go away will be carefully ignored."
Oh, well. At least it was Shimako-chan; Shimako-chan was discreet, and did not come unstuck in a crisis. Maybe it was for the best -- now, up on the porch, slide the door open, and --
Two naked young men jumped away from each other, yelping and squealing, and dived behind an old kicho, or screen of state.
The room contained furniture and boxes, in some disorder. It might not have been cleaned in years.
Rei looked at Shimako-chan. Shimako-chan had turned away and was facing the courtyard, her face flaming.
She's probably never seen anyone naked before. Well, I told her I should do this alone.
"You," Rei said, addressing the kicho. "Boys. Young men. Servants of the accursed Suguru. You know who you bloody are."
There were sniveling noises.
"Your sniveling lacks conviction," Rei said coldly. "I can come back there and coach you, if you keep it up. With my sword."
Silence fell.
"Now. Where is Yoshino?"
"Who's Yoshino?" said one puzzled voice.
Rei drew her sword. There's a way you can do it so it's quiet, and a way you can do it so it makes an impressive noise, and in view of the circumstances, Rei chose the noisy one. "Here I come, then!" she added.
The kicho trembled.
"The girl you left Prince Suguru's tent with," Shimako-chan said unexpectedly. "She wore her hair in braids."
"Oh, her!" said one voice. "She was here for a little while."
"She left just a few minutes ago," added the other. "Pity. She was terrific company."
"I think we bored her."
"Oh, don't be silly. She seemed pleased enough."
"Well, she was an awful lot of work. I was just as glad to see the back of her, myself."
"Oh, you're just as glad to see the back of anybody --"
Rei, with tears in her eyes and her sword raised, was about to charge forward. But she was stopped by Shimako's hand on her arm. "You lads shouldn't say anything else," she said, raising her voice only slightly.
There was a pause.
"If --" the first voice began, tentatively.
"Believe me," Shimako said firmly. "You should hold your tongues, and not discuss the matter. At all. With anyone. That is your safest move."
The room was quiet.
"Come along, Rei-sama." Shimako tugged at Rei's sleeve.
"They..." Rei croaked, and stopped.
"They nothing. That's all. Let's just leave. It's the most dignified course."
The door slid shut behind them.
The silence continued in the little storehouse, for a few moments. Then the first of the two voices said, "I forgot to mention that the girl is the most awful tease."
"Maybe it's just as well," said the second voice. "They seemed angry enough as it was."
"Shall we pick up where we left off?"
"...Yes, but not here. People apparently feel quite free to just dash in here without so much as knocking."
"Too true. We live in a fallen age, Keita. Standards are not what they used to be. Where are my socks?"
--
Yumi was trying to be brave. Perhaps it wasn't very dangerous, being here with Sachiko-sama's cousin, but she still didn't like or trust him, and none of her new friends were about, so it was something. And maybe it was the best she could do right now.
Curious, though. He called this a garden, but it was very different from Mizuno-sama's garden. Where hers had been awash with flowers and flowering trees, surprised into blossoming wakefulness by the first spring weather, this was mostly rocks, carefully arranged. Rocks, and some sparse long grasses, with an arranged air rather than a naturally grown one. And a fountain, ornamental, though of stark lines. Was this a more typical garden? Was this what Sachiko-sama had meant when she'd said there was no other garden like Mizuno-sama's in this country?
"What is this place?" Yumi asked, looking the tall prince directly in the eye for the first time.
"Beyond that stand of cedars, and past the wall of the Enclosure, is the old Ogasawara palace. See the high gables there, over the treetops?" He was smiling, and had a hand on her shoulder. She wondered what was really behind this carefully fashioned facade of calmness, gentlemanliness, unflappable nobility. Satou-sama had twitched the curtain, enough to reveal a very different kind of person.
Sachiko-sama wears a similar curtain over her true self. Yes. But Sachiko-sama did let some people inside, people she was close to. She had honored Yumi this way, and Yumi could wish herself to have the same kind of curtain, so that she could invite Sachiko-sama inside, return the favor. But everything about me is on the surface, Yumi thought bitterly. I'm transparent, just an ordinary beggar girl, a girl with no home, no past, no secrets. What does Sachiko-sama see in me? Why would she choose me?...
"Er... the Ogasawara palace?" Yumi asked, catching up at last.
"Yes," said Prince Suguru, chuckling gently. "Your Mistress's family home. We spent a lot of time in this garden when we were children, she and I."
The carefully arranged rocks and brush around her took on a new meaning. This was it, then. This was where Sachiko-sama had learned all that careful control, all that poise, in this severe aridity, like a poem all of one-syllable words. She seemed to see a little girl with long black hair and blue eyes sitting by the ornamental fountain, smarting from the latest lesson in good manners, maybe dreaming of dragon-fire in the sky over Koryo...
"Her family --"
"Her mother no longer attends festivals," said Prince Suguru a little sadly. "Oba-san goes visiting shrines instead; she's on a pilgrimage to Yogawa even now. She's about halfway to being a nun. A bit disappointed in life, is our oba-san." The Prince sighed a little. He sounded really sorry for her. Then he cleared his throat and said, in a stronger voice, "And Sacchan's Daddy is in China. Just took ship three days ago. He's in partnership with my own father, and with Fujiwara no Ryuusuke; the three of them handle much of our overseas business."
"So no one is living in the palace."
"Correct. I thought you'd like a glimpse of your family home." He laughed lightly.
Yumi looked at him unhappily. She could resent his behavior, but had not the power of correcting it.
"Also, of course, it's a good place for a private talk." He lifted his hand from her shoulder and retreated toward the cedars, backing up, still looking her in the eye. "There's someone here who wants to speak to you."
Yumi opened her mouth, to ask "Who?" and another hand landed on her shoulder, to replace Prince Suguru's, before she could get the word out.
She turned her head to see a face she'd hoped never to see again.
"Hello, my luck," said Tsujimoto no Fujito. "You can't know how I've missed you."
She jumped away from him. She took a quick look in Prince Suguru's direction, but he had vanished.
She looked back at Tsuji-sama and --
Grey mist.
--
Tsujimoto no Fujito had no magic of his own, so he'd had to buy some.
He'd lodged certain cherished movables with Old Keiko in the first place, so it was a simple matter, provided she had the necessary: just go to her and see if there was anything of his that appealed to her, and which she might be willing to accept in trade. And he had many lovely things he was sure would appeal to her, though, as she was blind, he had to describe them to her. His old perfume case, with mother-of-pearl inlay. An old koto which had belonged to his late mother. A --
"The golden box," she'd said.
He'd been afraid she'd say that. She'd probably had someone look the items over and tell her what was there -- unless she could just tell gold by the heft and the feel of it. "I don't know if I want --"
"A SPELL?" Old Keiko shrieked, baring her gums in what Tsujimoto hoped was a smile.
"I do, it's only that I don't know if I want the spell that badly --"
"You WANT A SPELL --"
"Yeeees," Tsujimoto said. He resented being shrieked at, and he was hanging onto his patience by his teeth here as it was.
"-- TO SET ALL TO RIGHTS!"
"Well..."
"A SPELL TO PUT YOU BACK WHERE YOU BELONG. THE WORLD THAT'S HOME TO YOU."
"Well... Yes."
"And you don't know if you want that as badly as you want a gold box?"
Tsujimoto tried silence.
"This gold box in partic'lar. Which smells like you kept incense in it."
"Yes. That's true --"
"What you really don't know," the witch went on with disconcerting helpfulness, "is if you really want to give the gold box to Old Keiko. Old Keiko is an ugly, stupid, eyeless, toothless old woman, and gold boxes would be wasted on her. Isn't that right?"
Tsujimoto growled deep in his throat, but said nothing.
"ISN'T THAT RIGHT?"
"What I really don't know," Tsujimoto burst out, "which should be obvious to any child, is whether a spell you sell me for a gold box is going to work or not. And if it doesn't work, am I going to be able to take you to task for it, and demand my gold box back, or am I going to be roasted on a stick by that blasted Ogasawara sorceress?"
Old Keiko laughed in rather a high-pitched, demented way. She took a bit of old leather out of the front of her robe, put it in her mouth, and began gumming it. Tsujimoto turned his gaze to the ceiling, and kept it fixed there, as she spoke, barely audibly, through the leather. "You want proof, then. You think Old Keiko's a liar and you want.. oh, what's the word?"
" A 'demonstration'?" Tsujimoto said, with heavy patience, still eyeing the rafters.
"Look at me a moment."
As if it pained him to do so, which it rather did, Tsujimoto brought his gaze down from the ceiling and rested it on Old Keiko's venerable, revolting face.
There was a sort of grey mist, and when Tsujimoto no Fujito came to himself again, he was outdoors, with the sun hurting his eyes, stark naked, and lying in a trough of horse-water. There were several persons of the low birth and intelligence and dress sense predictable for this part of town laughing at him on the porch of the house across the street.
He got out of the trough, with as much dignity as he could muster, and, streaming water, walked back into Old Keiko's house.
She was still sitting where he'd left her, by her chest. "Pretty good, eh?" she said, dangling a crystal on a narrow strip of leather.
"And that will work for me as well?" Tsujimoto said, keeping his voice even with considerable effort.
"That it will. You can test it on my boy, if you like. Here, boy!"
Well... suffice to say, the test had been satisfactory. And seeing how quickly the beggar-girl succumbed to the crystal, he knew for certain that he had not been cheated.
"It's time to end this foolishness," he said. "I am Tsujimoto no Fujito."
"You are Tsujimoto no Fujito," the girl answered him. Her eyes had gone from brown to a curious black.
I am your Master," he went on. "My commands you must obey, or it will be the end of you. In all things you will obey me!"
"I will obey you," the beggar-girl acknowledged in a whisper.
"I set you a task, and the task must be completed. You have seen where she keeps the golden object?"
The beggar-girl nodded. Her eyes were lidded.
"Good," he said. "Tonight, while your mistress sleeps, you will take the object from its place, and bring it to the great cherry tree in the Western Market. I will be waiting there for you."
"I... will..."
"You must not fail in this, or it will mean your death."
"I... will... not."
Tsuji-sama stared. "What?!"
"I will not." The girl was blinking her black eyes, and her hands limply slapped at her robes, as if she were trying to awaken herself from a nightmare. "I will not betray my Mistress."
And for a moment, there was only the wind in the cedars.
The last few days had been difficult ones for Tsuji-sama, and to be balked now, when the goal was in sight, was too much. "Filth, offal, guttersnipe, sub-human sand-crab girl, you will do as you are told! You will! I am your Master! I am --"
There was a sudden dark shape, a cracking sound, and a terrible stinging pain in his hand, and he shrieked.
The crystal was gone, and it was no longer his cornered mascot in front of him, but a -- woman, or man? -- with strangely yellow hair. She was brandishing a sword in his direction.
"I think that's enough jiggery-pokery for one afternoon, sir," she -- yes, she -- said in a sly, mocking voice. "We in the Guild take it in ill part when a suspicious stranger molests our little sisters in this fashion. And then we do something ill to his part."
"Satou-sama --" there was the beggar-girl peeping around the swordswoman's shoulder. Her eyes were clear. All to do again!
"It's all right, Yumi-chan," said Satou-sama calmly, not taking her eyes off Tsujimoto. "I won't let him touch one hair of your strangely adorable head. En garde, recreant!"
"What does 'en gardu' mean?" Tsuji-sama wanted to know. He clutched at his stinging hand a bit, and looked about for possible escape routes.
"It means 'Draw your sword and let's settle this like gentlemen.'"
"You are not a gentleman, and I haven't got a sword." Tsuji-sama was growing more confused by the minute. Like gentlemen?... With swords?...
"True, I'm neither a man, nor gentle. But I do have a sword. So, since you refuse to give me satisfaction, I shall have to knock you down and give you a thumping with the flat."
"You wouldn't dare!"
Satou-sama stared a bit. "Why the devil wouldn't I?"
And she did it.
--
Yumi watched as Satou-sama feinted at Tsuji-sama's head with her blade, took his legs out from under him with a sweeping kick, and began to pummel him with the flat as promised. Tsuji-sama let out a series of heart-rending shrieks; he was plainly unused to this kind of treatment.
It was strange to see Satou-sama like this. Her clownishness and grinning good humour had vanished in an instant, along with her slow, limping shamble. Her hair whipped about, staying out of her eyes somehow, and her grey eyes flashed with anger, and her movements were so fast they were difficult to track...
...But then Yumi's mind was taken up with other concerns.
People were trying to use her against Sachiko-sama.
That was bad enough, but the possibility that she might actually be an effective weapon was horrifying.
One hand was over her mouth, and she felt tears running down her cheeks. She didn't want to leave Sachiko-sama. She didn't want to die. Life had become so sweet in the last couple of days. She wanted to live with Sachiko-sama, and with Rei-sama and Yoshino-san. And yes -- with Satou-sama too, as scary as Satou-sama was at the moment. She wanted to go on the Questioning, she wanted to see the divine Amaterako-sama, and hear the music in the gorge... at Sachiko-sama's side... for always...
But her head was still foggy from what Tsuji-sama had done to her, and she knew that she was anybody's to command. She had gone with Prince Suguru because he'd asked her. She had nearly succumbed to Tsuji-sama's magic... there were dark forces, demons everywhere, and she was a tool, a weapon, waiting for any fiend to pick her up and use her against the one person she loved and respected most in all the world.
She had to go away. Now, while no one was looking. It went against the grain, to leave without a word, without seeing Sachiko-sama one more time... but if she stayed for one more sight of her, would she be able to leave?
She backed away from the preoccupied Satou-sama and the squealing Tsuji-sama. She turned south, and at the turn it was as if something was tearing inside her. She shed her robes, kicked away her shoes. Her bare feet remembered the stony earth, and in remembering, cast aside the present race, and dreamed another dream altogether...
--
"HOLD HARD!"
The voice was husky, and it shot up by an octave or two in the middle of "hard," but Sei stopped thumping the man anyway and looked up.
The Emperor was coming, along with two-thirds of the Guild high council and a couple of spare Dragons. Sachiko was leading the field, but it was the Emperor who had shouted.
Sei smiled a greeting at Sachiko, who just grimaced and said, "Sei, where's Yumi?"
Sei looked around, suddenly at a loss. She seemed to have got a bit carried away. Yumi was gone, and here she was thumping this man for no visible reason. Though it did feel good. "I'm sorry, Sachiko. She was here, but she seems to have done a runner while I was correcting this oaf."
"What was he doing?" Youko wanted to know.
"Phew, long story," Sei said. "He was using some kind of tu'penny-ha'penny magic to get Yumi in his power. A crystal, as I thought. I knocked it out of his hand." She looked around. Nowhere in sight. Probably wouldn't be easy to find. Oh, she was looking worse and worse...
Sachiko had started to dash off, but Fujiwara-dono had put a hand on her shoulder, and was telling her, "I know you want to find your young friend, but you should probably first get some idea of which way to go."
Sei was ready to start thumping herself. She'd lost Yumi after all. Sachiko had relied on her... Why did Yumi run?
Sachiko took a deep breath. "Sei, why would this man want Yumi in his control?"
And then there were hurried footfalls, and Rei and Shimako had come rushing up, breathing hard. Well, Sei could score one point, perhaps, little as it would console Sachiko for the loss of Yumi. "Rei! Do you know this face?" She stooped, clutched the cringing worm's pigtails, and hoisted his head so his face was in view.
"In Heaven's name!" said the Emperor.
"Unnatural bitch!" whined the prisoner. "Unhand me, or I'll have you flayed!"
"You might want to reassess your position before you try that," Sei said with a happy smile.
"Why, that's one of the three villains we surprised the other night, outside our inn," Rei said wonderingly. "The chickenhearted one who wouldn't fight."
"One of the miscreants who sent Yumi up to your room the other night," Sei agreed, turning to Sachiko. "Given that he was just now trying to get Yumi under his control, and given his imperious manner, I suspect he's the ringleader of the operation." Sei looked now at the Emperor. "Do you perchance know this man, your Imperial Majesty?"
"I certainly do," Suga-sama interposed. "That is Tsujimoto no Fujito. He was banished from court a year ago. Appropriation of the wrong monies, and sleeping with the wrong daughters, as I recall."
"Oh?" It was like Suga-sama to butt in at this point, Sei reflected. "How interesting. So, your Imperial Majesty, he shouldn't be here?"
"He should be in Kyushu," the Emperor agreed. "He shouldn't be in Heian Kyo, and he certainly shouldn't be inside the Nine-Fold Enclosure. Tsujimoto-san, what do you here?"
Tsujimoto no Fujito did not speak. He just glared imperiously at the ground, which was an inch from his nose.
"Er," said the Emperor miserably. He rubbed his own nose with the back of his hand a bit.
Fujiwara-dono came forward. "Give me his head, Satou-san."
Sei relinquished the man's head to the wizened sorceress, who bent over the recreant with a terrible weight of power. Strange fires seemed to gleam in her eyes.
There was a suffocating atmosphere among all those there in the garden. The Emperor put his hands up to his face, ready to shield his vision from the ultimate horror.
Then Fujiwara-dono gave Tsujimoto's eyes a two-fingered poke, and slapped his face briskly a few times. Tsujimoto yelped and sniveled. "Your soul to perdition, you insolent little shit," Fujiwara-dono excoriated him calmly. "When the Emperor asks you a question, you answer him, and hop to it, or I'll get a firm grip on your tongue and YANK it heartlessly. Do you hear me?"
"Enough," he whined.
Fujiwara-dono dropped his head negligently so that his nose bumped in the dust, and she stood over him. "Or maybe I'll just give you to Satou-san to play with some more. It looked like she was enjoying herself. Would you like that?"
"What in the world is going on?"
Everyone looked up. Shimazu Yoshino had arrived. She wasn't the sort to be self-conscious, easily embarrassed, but she did seem to wilt a little under the annoyed gaze of the Guild leadership, the confused one of the Emperor, and the brief glance, the wounded and wounding look, the turning-away of Rei.
"Yumi has disappeared, Yoshino," Sachiko said. She was visibly struggling to be calm, gentle. "You didn't happen to see where she went, did you?"
"No. I've been, um, preoccupied," Yoshino answered, glaring at Rei. Then she swivelled full-face back to Sachiko. "What, Yumi-san's disappeared? That's awful! Are we looking for her?"
"Yes. I need to know if this person --" Sachiko waved an arm at the prone man flinching at the feet of Fujiwara-dono and Satou Sei -- "has any idea of where she went."
"I don't," said Tsujimoto no Fujito, with his newly acquired face-down-on-the-ground haughtiness, "and if I did know, I wouldn't tell you."
--
Sachiko went to him. She reached down. She got him by the hair. Looking him fully in the face for the first time, she saw something jumping in his eyes. She knew what he was going to do even before his hand disappeared under his robes.
She gave him the credit of not believing it was something he'd ordinarily do. People kept grabbing his hair, he'd been beaten and pummeled into a corner, and now he was lashing out, dangerously, perhaps because he'd seen something in her eyes that he thought meant his doom.
Someone, Sachiko never found out who, cried "Knife! Knife --" And, before the second "knife" had been said, there the knife was, buried halfway to the hilt -- in Tsujimoto's left arm.
He screamed.
Before he could make up his scattered mind what to do about the knife in his arm, the hilt still in his hand, Sachiko's right hand had closed over it. Her left hand still gripped his hair.
He gazed at her in terror.
"Stabbed yourself," she said, calmly. "Clumsy of you. But we sorceresses sometimes make people nervous, and they do things like that. I'm sure we don't intend to. And now... An unexpected treat! I am in complete control of this arm. What do you suggest I do with it?"
"Please let go," he whispered. "Please let go, please let go, please --"
"What were you doing with Yumi?"
"Nothing! Nothing! I was only --"
"Only using some magic on her involving a crystal. Only trying to assert control over her, for some dark end, it doesn't matter to me so much what you were trying to do -- I think I have a suspicion what it was. What matters to me is that you were using Yumi to do it. Correct?"
"I didn't mean her any -- AAAAGH --"
"It seems to hurt you particularly badly when I turn it just so rightwards; it scrapes against something. I shall try to avoid doing that in future, though I can promise nothing. Look at me." She struck at him with her voice and her eyes, and his shining eyes were locked on her dark ones willy nilly. "I have news for you, Tsujimoto-san. Yumi is my imouto now. That means she is off-limits to you. You do not spin your filthy crystals at her. You do not come near her, speak to her, ever again. If you do I will destroy you so completely there won't even be a memory --"
"-- stop -- please --" The worm was crying. His nose was running. The filthy cowardly little --
Sachiko felt a hand on her shoulder. Tightening her grip on Tsujimoto's knife hand -- he keened -- she turned her head to look. It was Sei.
"That's enough, Sachiko," Sei said calmly.
"Why do you interfere?" Sachiko hissed.
"I've given him a thrashing, and you've scared the crap out of him. It's enough."
"Enough? Yumi is gone! You lost Yumi, Satou-san. This man --"
"If you keep going the way you're going, you'll kill him. He's a prisoner and a wounded man. Do you want that on your conscience?"
Sachiko started. Her grip on the knife hand lessened. "I wasn't..." She couldn't finish the sentence. She looked around. Most everybody seemed to be very interested in the ground, or the trees. A knife in his arm won't kill him, however I twist it. Only Youko and Fujiwara-dono were looking at her, and their faces were unreadable.
I wasn't going to kill him. Was I?...
"Sacchan, please don't hurt him," came a new voice.
Sachiko looked up, along with everyone else.
Prince Suguru had joined them. He stood by the fountain. He looked more moved than she'd ever seen him. His eyes kept shifting to the prostrate man who was her prey.
"I saw where she went, Sacchan," he went on. "South. Back into the City, I suppose." He pointed over the hillock.
"Where were you hidden to see that, your highness?" Fujiwara-dono wondered.
"In the cedars there," he said calmly, with a small gesture.
Sachiko stood. She stared at him, her inaccessible yet ubiquitous cousin. The calm accusation in her look was answered by acquiescence, even a little shame in his.
"This villain is an old friend of yours, isn't he?" she said levelly, prodding Tsujimoto gently with her shoe. "I used to hear a lot about the two of you, before he was banished."
"Sacchan, please let me explain --"
"You are dead to me." Cold. Brusque. Final.
In the stunned silence that followed, Sachiko turned on her heel and began to head south. She hoped she was brushing off the dust of the old family garden for good. She had always hated this garden.
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