by Sarah Ash
“Just like my big brother,” she said, gazing up at him, “always thinking of others before himself.” But she felt the stirrings of fear; Shun was sickly pale beneath his tanned skin and she sensed that every step was a struggle.
“Where d’you think you’re going, Sakami?” Yuna appeared out of the crowd. “And where’s the water I sent you to fetch?”
“But my brother – ”
“I’ll take him to the guards’ hall,” said Rikyu, winking at Sakami over Shun’s head. “Join us there when you can.”
Yuna put one bony hand on Sakami’s shoulder. “We’ve still got our jobs to do and wounded men need nourishing food to get better. Fetch the water first – and then you can make soup for him.”
Was Yuna actually showing her some sympathy? Sakami, confused, gazed at her, not knowing what to say.
“So why are you dawdling, girl? Get going!”
***
Carrying a steaming pot, Sakami reached the entrance to the guards’ hall only to find it blocked by two sentries with crossed spears.
“State your business.”
“My brother Shun’s been brought in injured. He’s an archer.” The words came out in a breathless rush.
The sentries glanced at each other; one nodded and they uncrossed their spears so that she could go in. “That soup smells good,” one said. “Any chance we could have some?”
“Not on duty,” snapped the other.
Mattresses had been laid out in rows in the hall and Sakami was shocked to see that so many were already occupied by wounded men; as she anxiously scanned the dimly lit room, she counted seventeen casualties.
But which one is Shun?
As she went further in, searching for her brother, she was almost overpowered by the strong odors of spilled blood and rank sweat. She heard men groaning, and as she passed them some called out to her for water. Forgive me, I have to find my brother first. Her heart began to beat sickeningly fast as she hurried on, dreading what she might find when she came to Shun’s bedside.
“Sakami – over here.” She saw Rikyu beckoning to her from the furthest corner. Close by, old Master Ujiake was bending over a pallet, giving directions to his assistants. As she approached, the elderly physician straightened up and, leaning on his stick, began to move away.
“Master Ujiake,” she called breathlessly. “How is my brother?”
He peered at her over the top of his spectacles. “The shuriken went deep, but fortunately no major organs have been damaged. He’s lost blood, but he’ll mend. I’ve given him a sedative powder to dull the pain, so he may be a little sleepy.” He turned to his assistant. “So, who’s next?”
Only then did Sakami notice that Rikyu’s tunic was stained with dark blotches of blood.
“Rikyu – you’re hurt too.”
“No; this is Shun’s blood.”
“You should go and get changed,” she said.
He nodded as if too weary to reply and walked slowly away. Sakami went to kneel beside Shun’s pallet. Her brother lay very still, his eyes closed. In one anxious glance she took in the bandaging strapped around his left shoulder and upper arm, and his face, pale as the starchy froth she skimmed off the boiling rice every morning.
“You won’t be drawing a bow for a while, Shun,” she said softly.
“Sakami?” He must have recognized her voice, for his eyes opened a little and gazed at her through half-closed lids.
“Master Ujiake says you’ll mend soon,” she said, trying to sound more cheerful than she felt. How can such a tall, powerful young man be felled so easily? She was distraught to see her strong, healthy brother lying there injured, brought down by a Kite shuriken but she knew she must not let him see how upset she was. “Would you like some broth? Or rice porridge?”
He managed a faint smile. “I haven’t got a head cold, Sakami.”
“But you’ve got to keep your strength up.”
His lids were closing. “Tomorrow, maybe. Sleepy now…”
Shun was always the boisterous one in the patrol, cracking jokes to amuse the other archers, annoying the commander with his unquenchable good humor. It must be the sedative Master Ujiake’s given him; a rest will help him mend. She leaned over him and kissed his cheek. “I’m off to the kitchen now, Shun, but I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
***
“Sakami – wake up.”
Sakami woke with a start. In the darkness she could just make out Rikyu’s face hovering over hers.
“Shun’s feverish,” he said in a whisper.
“I’ll come right away.” Sakami followed Rikyu out of the kitchen, trying not to trip over her sleeping companions, and into the moonlit courtyard. “Is it bad, Rikyu?” she asked as she ran to keep up with his swift stride.
“Fever’s never a good sign after a straightforward puncture wound like that,” he said. “There could be infection…or the shuriken could have been poisoned.”
“Poisoned?” The thought horrified Sakami; until that moment, she had imagined that Shun would heal quickly, without complications.
“Maybe the Kites are playing us at our own game,” said Rikyu bleakly. “After all, we use a paralyzing poison on the tips of our arrowheads.”
The yellow glow of a lamp lit the paper panes of the hall windows; Rikyu led the way inside and Sakami tiptoed past the other casualties. Some moaned restlessly in their sleep; in the furthest corner, one of Master Ujiake’s assistants was bending over Shun’s pallet. As they drew nearer, she heard a halting, rasping sound that she realized must be her brother struggling for breath.
Shun’s really sick. He could die – and then I’ll be all on my own.
Such a selfish thought at a time like this! She knelt opposite Master Ujiake’s assistant and whispered, “Can I help?” She had recognized Ujiake’s daughter, Teiko-san, a severe woman of middle years who had dedicated her life to helping her father.
Shun mumbled incoherently, turning his head restlessly from side to side, but did not open his eyes.
“Just keep him as cool as possible.” Teiko-san passed her a fan. “And sponge his forehead with fresh water.”
Sakami dutifully began to fan her brother’s face. “So has he been poisoned?” she asked as Teiko rose and turned to leave.
“My father is not yet certain,” said Teiko-san crisply. “Besides, without the weapon that caused the wound, it’s hard to be sure.”
Had Shun tugged the shuriken out of his shoulder and cast it aside at the scene of the ambush? It would be just like you, Shun, wouldn’t it? ‘No problem, it’s just a scratch, I’m fine, I can carry on…’
***
Someone touched Sakami’s shoulder as she was nodding off; Rikyu had appeared in the cloudy light of dawn.
“I’ll stay with him for a while; you should get some sleep.”
She was too tired to reject his offer. “Thank you, Rikyu. Call me if there’s any change.” She tottered away, only half awake. Sleep, in the kitchens? Little chance of that now that dawn’s breaking. But it was kindly meant and she was grateful. Rikyu’s a good friend to Shun. I wish I had someone like that to look out for me…
Why, at that moment, did she remember Kai, his soft dark eyes warming as he smiled at her? Would Kai know what to do? Master Seishi, his mentor, had taught him much about healing.
She was suddenly overwhelmed by a sudden longing to see Kai again, even though Lady Inari had warned her to stay away. But now that he’s had to take his brother’s place at the head of the clan, I won’t be allowed anywhere near him. Yet if there’s the slightest chance he could save Shun’s life… Recent rumors from the main house hinted that he had banished Master Ujiake from Lord Takeru’s sickbed and had taken over his care himself, watching over his brother night and day.
She found herself walking purposefully toward the kitchens. I’ll take Kai some miso soup. I know where Lord Takeru’s room is – and if I say Yuna sent me, no one will dare turn me away.
***
“What are you doing in the main house again, Sakami?” Isamu was sitting outside Lord Takeru’s room, his sword across his crossed legs. He looked as if he had been awake half the night too.
“I brought Lord Kaito breakfast,” she said. At any moment one of the main house servants could discover her and have her beaten.
“But none for Lord Takeru – or me?” She couldn’t be sure if he was criticizing or teasing her.
“There’s plenty here for all of you – but I thought that you would prefer to serve Lord Takeru yourself,” she said, gazing demurely at the floor.
He let out a sigh. “Go on in, then. Serve Lord Kaito first.”
She knelt down, placing the tray on the floor, and slid open the door. By the early light penetrating the paper panes she could just make out Kai bending over his brother’s futon.
“Who is it?” he called, turning around. “Sakami?” His tone softened. “What are you doing here?”
“Breakfast for you, my lord.” She brought in the tray and slid the door across so that Isamu could not hear what she was going to say.
“Sunrise already?” He sat back, knuckling his eyes.
Just like a little boy waking up, she thought fondly. “How is Lord Takeru?”
“He’s still wandering between here and somewhere else. Sometimes I can reach him…and sometimes I don’t know where he is or who he thinks he is.” He sounded so despondent that she wanted to reach out and put her arms around him; instead she passed him the soup bowl.
He lifted the lid from the bowl and sniffed the rising steam. “This smells good; did you make it, Sakami?”
She nodded, watching him as he drank. He set the bowl down and nodded his appreciation.
“My lord – ” she began.
“We’re alone; you can still call me Kai.” He smiled at her over the rim of the soup bowl. Just hearing his voice again, calm and reassuring, made her feel a little less anxious.
“Kai, my brother Shun’s been hurt. A Kite shuriken got him – and they think it may have been poisoned.”
“Poisoned?” Suddenly he was fully alert. “Where is he?”
“In the guards’ hall. They’ve put all the wounded men in there.”
“Go ahead; I’ll meet you there. I’ll need to fetch the medicine chest first.”
“Oh, Kai, thank you!” Suddenly the future no longer seemed so dark and uncertain.
“Don’t thank me yet; I may not be able to heal him.”
She felt tears of gratitude welling up, and before she could turn away to hide them he reached out and took her hand in his, squeezing it reassuringly.
“Don’t cry,” he said, his voice low. “I’ll do everything I can to save him.”
Even as she made her way back to the guards’ hall, she could still feel the warm pressure of his fingers around hers and the little shiver of heat that had spread through her body at his touch.
***
The air in the guards’ hall smelt fetid and stale; too many injured men placed so close together had created a sickly fug of sweat and vomit. Sakami opened the windows to let in the cool freshness of the morning before the summer’s heat became too intense.
Rikyu was still at Shun’s side, fanning him; he looked up as Sakami drew near and she saw from his worried frown that Shun’s condition had not improved.
She knelt down beside Rikyu and took Shun’s hand; his skin felt fierily hot, yet clammy beneath her fingers.
“Everything’s in flames…” he muttered. “Lie low, Sakami, don’t breathe a word, then they won’t know we’re here.”
“Shun?” she said uncertainly. “Shun, it’s all right; we’re safe now.” It sounded as if he was reliving their flight from the burning village many years ago. She looked at Rikyu. “He’s delirious.”
“Not good,” he said. She could feel the panic rising in her again, a stifling, sick feeling that her brother was not going to recover. “Look, Sakami, I have to go. The squad’s on patrol duty. And now we’re two men down…”
“I understand.” She took the fan from him and managed an encouraging smile. “Take care, Rikyu. Come back safely.”
As Rikyu stood up, he gently patted the top of her head, a kindly, brotherly gesture. “He’s a fighter, Sakami; he’ll pull through.” Then she saw him halt, staring toward the doorway. “Is that – ?”
He dropped to his knees and bowed low. She turned around and saw that Lord Kaito had appeared at the far end of the hall, the medicine chest strapped to his back.
“Where is Shun the archer?” he said.
After the initial moment of stunned stupefaction, two of the women who were tending the wounded hurried forward to help as he limped along the rows of mattresses. Sakami gazed at him, her heart brimming with gratitude. Even if he could do nothing to help Shun, he had made the effort to come and that counted for a great deal.
“Is this your brother?” he asked, stopping opposite her. She nodded, and, as he tried to shrug the medicine chest off his back, without thinking she stepped forward to help him, as she had done so often when they were crossing the mountain. Then, blushing, she glanced away, knowing that a servant should not look so frankly into the clan lord’s face, and concentrated on placing the chest on the floor beside Shun’s mattress.
“Can I lean on you, Sakami?” he said softly.
“Of – of course, my lord.” She had forgotten, in her own embarrassment, that it was difficult for him to kneel down, and put out her hands to steady him.
Now tongues will really start to wag…
She sat back on her heels behind him as he bent over Shun to take his pulse. As he placed one hand on his forehead, Shun muttered something incomprehensible and tried to push the hand aside.
“Shun, can you hear me?” he asked, bending closer.
“The Kites…” Shun moved his head restlessly from side to side.
“What are you doing in here, my lord?” Teiko-san came walking briskly down the aisle between the patients toward them. “You must leave this work to my father and his assistants; it’s not fit for the lord of the clan to dirty his hands with such a menial task.”
There was a soft gasp from the watching carers, shocked to hear Teiko-san speak so disrespectfully to Kai.
He looked up and, to Sakami’s relief, merely said mildly, “As lord of the clan, I’m afraid I must disagree with you, Teiko-san. The well-being of every member of this clan is as important to me as my own. The very least I can do is to use my medical training to help you and your father.”
“We have the situation under control.” Teiko-san sounded flustered and Sakami saw an angry red flush coloring her cheeks.
“If I might make a suggestion about Shun’s treatment,” continued Kai steadily, “it looks to me as if the Kites are smearing their blades with a poison extracted from a purple spiny sea urchin, which causes fever and vomiting. It’s rarely lethal, but it can incapacitate the victim for many weeks. To counteract the effects of the poison, we need to use itadori as an antidote.”
“I’ve never heard of such a thing before.”
“The island on which the Kites live is not so far from the monastery; this urchin lives in the waters around their shores. In the infirmary, we sometimes treat fishermen who’ve trodden on one and been afflicted in this way. So Master Seishi insists that all his assistants understand how to treat the symptoms.”
“But itadori is just a common weed, not a medicinal herb.”
“This poison causes an agonizing burning sensation. My master says, ‘If it’s hot, we must cool it down,’ and we discovered that an infusion of itadori root, which has cooling and astringent properties, will calm any trace of fever and clean the poison from the patient’s blood.
“Oh! I see.” Teiko-san subsided a little.
“I’d be happy to share my master’s knowledge with you and Master Ujiake,” he continued, “as I fear this is not the first such case we’ll see. Luckily Shun is young and has a strong constitution; he’ll make a good recovery.” H
e was looking steadily at Sakami as he spoke and she felt tears of gratitude prickling at her eyelids again.
He’s going to be all right.
The castle’s alarm bell began to clang. Heart thudding, Sakami glanced at Kai, and he beckoned her to the doorway where no one could overhear them. Outside, castle guards went running past, spears and naginata at the ready.
“I haven’t enough itadori root left to make more of the antidote. Is there any way you could contact Honou and ask him to fetch some? It grows close by the stream.” He took the pot of dried itadori from the chest and pressed it into her hand.
She nodded, understanding what he was implying. “If he can sneak past the barricades in the tunnel.”
“He’s a fox; sneaking in and out should be second nature to him. Oh – and don’t mention my name. You know how much he detests me.”
“I’m so sorry, my lord. He – ”
“Lord Kaito!”
She shrank into the shadows as one of the general’s officers approached and saluted.
“The general has new intelligence, my lord. If you’d be so good as to accompany me…”
Kai picked up the medicine chest and followed the officer across the courtyard without a backward glance. Sakami slipped away, making for the tunnel entrance, determined to do whatever she could to get the remedy for Shun.
Two guards stood on duty outside in the sunlight. She stopped. Both looked hot and one was idly picking his nose. There was no way she would be able to get past them.
General Tachibana gave strict orders that no one was to go out or in by the tunnel. So now what do I do?
She took a sniff of the bitter fragrance of the dried medicinal herbs. Would they clear a muzzy, sleep-deprived mind as well?
Honou will be your guardian. If ever you need help, just call him.
Inari’s words came back to her, as if the clean scent of the herbs had awakened the memory. But the sight of a young dog fox in broad daylight could cause alarm, especially so near the food stores and the chicken run.
Please come in human form, she prayed silently and then whispered, “Honou. Honou, I need you!”
The sunlit air in the courtyard shimmered as if an unseen presence had passed through, stirring up the dust.
