A Sword's Poem

by Leah Cutter

  Why had she gone into the priesthood, and forsaken a husband? Kayoku longed to ask, but it wasn’t polite. Rumors claimed that she’d lost her first husband and one true love, before she’d even been married, and had joined the priesthood instead.

  Kayoku suspected that was partially the truth—but that it was also possibly equally true that Priestess Ayumi wanted autonomy, the kind of authority that being the head priestess of a temple would grant.

  After the tea was served by Kayoku’s servants, she waved them away, to stand outside the door.

  This was a private conversation. One that couldn’t be overheard by anyone.

  “So how may I serve the mistress of the house?” the priestess asked, using an older, more formal title for Kayoku’s position.

  Kayoku knew she couldn’t just ask for what she wanted. So she asked instead, “Have you seen Masato’s lists?”

  Priestess Ayumi grimaced, the look darkening her entire countenance. “I haven’t, my lady, but I’ve been informed about them.”

  The disposition of the Mori Temple and its people had angered many people. But the temple was officially under the protection of the estate, and not a separate entity. Some had proposed that they should petition the Emperor, so that Masato would have to negotiate with them separately, but there was no time, and Kayoku agreed that it wouldn’t do much good.

  All the goods existing on the temple grounds were to be inventoried and then packed, ready to be distributed elsewhere, including all altars, basins, incense burners, sacred texts, fragrant woods, and so on.

  The priests and priestesses were to all present themselves to Masato when he arrived and be prepared to convert to Buddhism, or lose their heads.

  None would be allowed to live or find another vocation.

  However, as Masato’s letter had indicated, it would be days before he or his representatives actually arrived at the estate. It wasn’t that difficult to hide those who wanted to stay and live a different life.

  Several had chosen not to abandon their posts, though. They would die with their temple, when Masato came and burned it to the ground.

  “Have there been any changes?” Priestess Ayumi asked. “Any other news?”

  Kayoku didn’t want to crush the priestess’ hopes, but she had to. “No news. Masato will be here. He will be the new lord of the estate. Soon.” She couldn’t help but shudder.

  “I see, mistress,” Priestess Ayumi replied. She swallowed down her disappointment.

  Kayoku gave the priestess a moment to settle herself back down to her fate. She was already accepting of her own.

  “So how may I help you?” Priestess Ayumi finally said.

  “I’ve heard rumors that some of the people on the estate aren’t waiting for Masato. The generals, and like that. That they’re already planning on walking in the lands of eternal cherry blossoms,” Kayoku said carefully.

  “I haven’t heard of any such thing,” Priestess Ayumi said, her face carefully neutral and not showing any emotion or reaction.

  A spike of fear ran through Kayoku. Had she miscalculated? But surely the priestess would be able to help her. She continued with her question, as if the priestess hadn’t replied. “How would you go about such a thing?”

  The priestess paused, considering. “I have never thought about such things,” she admitted.

  “Oh,” was all Kayoku could say. She’d been certain that the priestess would be able to help.

  “However, if I had ever thought about walking in the eternal lands before my time, I may have considered some of the different properties of some of the healing herbs and medicines that I regularly employ,” the priestess continued cautiously. “Many of the tisanes and teas we administer have a dangerous side to them.”

  “I see,” Kayoku said slowly, her heart lifting. “Could you give me an example?”

  “I’m not sure, my lady,” Priestess Ayumi said. She peered at Kayoku, studying her closely. “Too often, I’ve seen people ask, only to change their mind later.”

  Kayoku gave a bitter laugh. “Masato had two lists,” she said bluntly. “One for the people in the estate, talking of their fate. A second, for all the property. Did you know all the wives appeared on the second?” Kayoku made herself take a deep breath. “I’ve been running the estate for a while now. Yet I’m listed below the hunting dogs.” She tried to let go of her anger. She heard her stepmother’s voice again, telling her how unattractive the truth was. “I’m less than the horses or cattle,” she spat. “Why would I want to stay and serve any lord who thought as little of me as that?”

  “I understand,” Priestess Ayumi said, nodding. “I may be able to help you, my lady.”

  “Blessed be,” Kayoku said, bowing low. She felt as though all the air had been let out of her, all the steam that had been blowing her up for days.

  “Wait here,” the priestess said.

  Kayoku sat, swaying in her seat, feeling as though her head floated far above her body, near the rafters.

  It had been difficult to get to this place. She understood the priestess’ hesitation with helping her with such a request.

  But Kayoku also wasn’t about to change her mind.

  Kayoku rose when the priestess returned. “This will help you sleep,” the priestess muttered, pressing a bag of prickly, dried herbs into Kayoku’s hand. “Make a tea with it, then drink it just before you lie down. May all your nightmares pass quickly.”

  “Thank you,” Kayoku said. She couldn’t tell the priestess how much it meant to her, that she had a path out, finally.

  That she would soon no longer have to worry about good luck or bad. She was about to take her own destiny in her hands. The rest of the world could wait.

  Ξ

  Kayoku sat in her front rooms, formally dressed in a shimmering golden robe, decorated with red dragonflies. She’d washed her face clean of all makeup. Two jeweled hairpins held back the ends of her hair, one of her most prized possessions, as they’d been her mother’s. She knelt on her best pillows; her favorite teapot, made from brown clay and glazed so it appeared bronze, sat beside her, filled with water that had recently boiled.

  The bag filled with herbs sat immediately in front of Kayoku. It looked so innocent, just plain brown cloth, barely large enough to fill her palm.

  But Masato had finally sent a letter, saying that he’d be there the next day.

  Kayoku would be gone before he arrived.

  She picked up the small pouch. The dried herbs pricked her skin through the bag. They smelled musty, like regular medicine, bitter and dry. But Kayoku trusted that Priestess Ayumi wouldn’t mislead her.

  It was easy enough to pour the pouch into her tea pot and let the infusion steep. Kayoku drifted. She hadn’t said goodbye, but she also didn’t feel as though she needed to.

  She was the one taking this journey. It was a very private affair. No one else needed to know.

  She had left very detailed instructions for the other wives and her servants about what to do once she’d gone.

  Kayoku let herself float, listening to the stillness of the night. It was very bittersweet, this parting. To not see another sunrise. But Masato had already instructed that Iwao’s wife was to come to his tent that first night. Kayoku shuddered, thinking of what that would have entailed.

  Better to leave first.

  Sounds drifted in. At first, Kayoku ignored them. Someone was whispering urgently outside the door to her room. She’d left the strictest instructions with her main servant, insisting that she not be disturbed.

  The noise increased and started to annoy her, like the incessant buzzing of a gnat. What was that? Who was there?

  Finally, a strident voice broke through Kayoku’s meditation.

  It was Hikaru, demanding to see her.

  Kayoku felt herself wrenched back into the present day. She hadn’t realized how far she’d floated away, and to what a sweet place, until she came back.

  She knew that the younger wife wouldn’t be denied
. She was so unused to her wishes not being met that she didn’t know how to graciously accept a refusal.

  With a sigh, Kayoku put the bag of herbs behind her and pushed the teapot to the side. She raised her voice. “Let her come in,” she called out.

  She didn’t have to see Hikaru’s triumphant smile to know it was what she wore. But the second wife had composed her features appropriately by the time she entered Kayoku’s room.

  “Forgive me,” Hikaru said, bowing her head low. She wore a dark robe, almost black, with no pattern to break the color. Kayoku had never seen anything like it. Hikaru almost looked as if she’d been cut out of the night.

  Maybe part of Kayoku still floated in another place.

  “I had to see you,” Hikaru said, still addressing the floor. “I have a boon to seek from you.”

  When Hikaru looked up, she looked puzzled at first. She sniffed the air deliberately, then turned a look of shock and horror to Kayoku. “You have yama no geikkeiju!” she proclaimed. She turned her head to the side. “You made a tea from it. An infusion. It’s deadly.”

  Kayoku didn’t deny it. “What boon did you seek?” she asked patiently.

  “Are you planning on killing Masato?” Hikaru asked. “I would ask that you wait two days before you do that.”

  Kayoku blinked, surprised. Why would she kill Masato? It would be like trying to kill a wind or a storm.

  “I’m not going to kill Masato,” she said.

  “Then who…” Hikaru gasped and placed her hand over her mouth. “You’re not planning on killing yourself, are you?”

  “What do you want?” Kayoku asked instead of answering. She felt no need to share anything so personal with the second wife.

  “You can’t kill yourself,” Hikaru said urgently. “You have such a short life as it is. You need to take advantage of it!”

  Kayoku gave a bitter laugh. “As Masato’s slave? No better than one of his hunting dogs? Death is much, much preferable.”

  Hikaru grew still. She studied Kayoku intently. “I see. Could I please ask that you delay? So that I might get my revenge on Masato first?”

  Kayoku didn’t want to be intrigued. She wanted her death!

  But the time had passed, her peace already disturbed. Even if Hikaru left immediately, Kayoku knew she wouldn’t go back to her plans.

  And she did want to help anyone get revenge over Masato.

  “What did you have in mind?” Kayoku finally asked.

  Ξ

  “Fine,” Kayoku fumed at the guard in front of her. “You and a small number of men may accompany us.”

  Kayoku had warned Hikaru that it would be impossible for them to leave the estate without escort. Hikaru had assured Kayoku that an escort was fine—her sisters would take care of them. They just needed to get outside the estate walls.

  Kayoku waited with Hikaru at the back gate to the estate. She’d been outside before, at night. But she’d never left the estate, not like this, not this late. She wore a dark cloak over her formal robe—she’d seen no reason to change. Particularly not since the story she’d given the guards included the hint that possibly Masato had requested her presence.

  The guards would assume that Kayoku was off to see a lover. Or possibly she was leaving the estate for good, looking to run away. She wasn’t surprised when the head guard refused to let her go.

  Finally, a heavily armed escort of six men joined them at the gate. “Be sure to keep up, boys,” Hikaru teased as she and Kayoku stepped over the threshold and into the night.

  Kayoku could barely see anything. The night was too deep. Hikaru, however, walked as if it were still daylight, unerringly following a path, leading Kayoku with her.

  The floating sensation Kayoku had indulged in before returned. It was as if they moved in their own dark time, wrapped in the finest of black silks. Everything seemed muffled: the chorus of cicadas and their cycling call in the bushes, the fragrant night winds that tickled the hairs on the back of her neck, and the distant trees standing guard on either side of the path.

  Fireflies blinked into existence on their right. Hikaru laughed and clapped her hands. “Look, my lady! Living candles! They are here to wish us well.”

  Kayoku merely nodded. Were they really insects? Or were they magical lights, brought to life by Hikaru’s sisters?

  Just a few steps farther, Hikaru suddenly reached over and tugged on Kayoku’s arm. “This way,” she whispered.

  A shudder of fear ran through Kayoku as she stepped from the path.

  This was going far, far beyond anything she’d ever done before, had ever contemplated doing. She’d been headstrong for a woman. But she’d more or less followed along the path that her father, her husband, and society had set for her.

  Even a single step into the darkness was to start following a wild path that Kayoku wasn’t certain she’d ever return from.

  Hikaru paused while Kayoku got her bearings. Did the second wife understand the momentousness of the occasion? Kayoku doubted it. Hikaru was far too self–involved.

  “I’ll get us there and back,” Hikaru whispered after a few more moments, urging Kayoku forward.

  Kayoku nodded and followed, though she knew Hikaru lied. There really was no going back, was there? Not to a time before. Before the war. Before Iwao’s death.

  After a few more steps, Kayoku glanced over her shoulder. To the right she saw a pair of hooded figures, going off into the woods. The guards followed.

  They hadn’t seen the switch. Kayoku assumed that when it was time to return, the guards would be led back, and would escort them back to the estate.

  Kayoku breathed a deep sigh of relief, grateful that Hikaru’s sisters would do as the younger wife had promised: merely lead the guards astray, but not hurt them or cause them harm.

  The trees were more closed in, now. Kayoku had never been in the wilderness like this before. She’d always traveled safe roads, well–marked. Silvery light lined the path. It was easy to walk along, easier than Kayoku would have imagined. Then she saw the bushes pulling out of the path, the vines creeping back.

  It was an elegant magic, simple and unassuming, designed merely to make life easier.

  Bitterness overcame Kayoku. Nothing in her life had ever been easy this way. No wonder Hikaru was so spoiled!

  The path opened up onto a small clearing. Ferns and bamboo lined the edges. Two impossibly beautiful young women stood there, one very tall and thin, with her hair down, wearing finely made red robes, the other, shorter and pleasantly plump, with jeweled butterflies in her hair.

  Kayoku could see the family resemblance between the two women and Hikaru: something about the size and shape of their noses, their overly sensuous mouths. They exclaimed over their sister, happy to see her, holding her close and weeping. Evidently it had been some time since they’d been together.

  Finally, Hikaru turned to Kayoku. “This is my older sister, Etsu,” she said, drawing forward the taller woman. “And my younger sister, Cho.”

  Kayoku was surprised at the informality of the introduction.

  Then again, she was merely human, wasn’t she?

  “And this is Kayoku. I couldn’t have gotten here without her,” Hikaru explained to her sisters. “She’s been invaluable, teaching me how to be human with grace.”

  Kayoku blinked at the description. She hadn’t known that was what Hikaru thought of her at all.

  “Thank you for taking care of our impulsive sibling,” Etsu said. She walked over and took Kayoku’s hands. They felt impossibly smooth, like silk, and very warm. “We are in your debt.” Etsu paused, then added, “I do not say that lightly. If you ever have need, in particular, magical need, I will give you a way to call us. If we can aid you, we will.”

  “It was nothing,” Kayoku demurred. “I was just doing my duty.”

  Cho laughed merrily at that. “Duty or not, I’m sure she didn’t make it easy on you.”

  Kayoku just smiled pleasantly and didn’t reply. She was surprised
at how much she liked Hikaru’s sisters.

  “But now, we need to see about getting her powers back,” Etsu proclaimed. “Hikaru claimed that you would be willing to help us. I need to ask you directly, though. Are you willing to help?”

  Kayoku nodded. “Hikaru assured me that this would hurt Masato. Even though Hikaru contributed to the death of my dear husband, Iwao, Masato is still the one who did the deed. I would still like to see him punished and hurt.”

  The smile Etsu gave Kayoku chilled her. It promised inhuman pain and suffering to any who dared cross her.

  “Masato will be hurt by this. Weakened greatly as well,” Etsu assured her.

  “Good,” Kayoku said. “Then I will help.”

  “Then let us begin,” Etsu said drawing Kayoku forward.

  The last few steps were as momentous as the first for Kayoku. She’d gone down a wild path. Now, there really was no turning back.

  Without regret, Kayoku joined the sisters in the center of the clearing.

  This was much more sweet than walking in the eternal lands would ever be.

  Eight

  Watching My Sisters

  Hikaru

  Watching my sisters glide through the night filled my heart with such longing. I vowed that when I got my powers back, I would never take such ease for granted again.

  Kayoku stood directly across from me in the clearing, her regal bearing lending her a stature and elegance I hadn’t imagined possible.

  Etsu had been correct in scolding me about my attitude toward the humans! Never again.

  Despite how they made my very soul ache, I was still glad to see my sisters. I hadn’t realized how I had missed them. They’d always been a part of my life. I wished I could sit and drink tea with them for the rest of the night, waiting until after the sun had risen before we all retired, playing silly word games, writing poems for each other, telling stories and learning old myths.

  But tonight was meant for grimmer things.

  I was pleased that Kayoku had agreed to participate in the spells my sisters were weaving. I hadn’t been exaggerating when I’d told my sisters that she’d been teaching me how to be human. I’d watched her deal with the servants, running the estate single–handedly, and negotiating the increasingly difficult demands of Masato and his agents.