Mirror Sword and Shadow Prince

by Noriko Ogiwara

  The high priestess spoke in her windy voice. “… And one more thing. Tell me of your dreams. Has there been anything in your dreams recently that troubled you?”

  Lady Akaru was silent for a moment and then nodded. “Yes. I had a dream that was so clear it is hard to forget. I was facing west and looking at the sun when a large bird, white and shining, appeared in the middle of it and flew straight toward me. It flew down and landed on my lap. Then I woke up. What does this mean?”

  Fingering the deer bones in her hand, the high priestess announced abruptly, “It is fate. You have received a sign.” Startled, the chief half rose. The priestess looked at him and continued. “The emperor in Mahoroba desires to take this maiden as his wife. No doubt he will soon send his official messenger. She is fated to wed the descendant of the God of Light. You must be prepared. Do not spurn this duty, for this is destiny.”

  Confusion swept through the clansmen and whispers rose. Lady Akaru flushed as pink as a peach blossom but said not a word. Instead, the chief, clearly upset, exclaimed, “But she’s my eldest daughter. As such, she bears a heavy responsibility. She’s needed in Mino. Are you sure this is the right thing to do? Besides, if we are tied to the emperor through marriage bonds, Mahoroba would be free to intervene in the rule of Mino.”

  “We have a duty much greater than protecting Mino,” the priestess said calmly. “The whole purpose of the Tachibana clan’s existence has been and will continue to be the protection of the emperor’s line, the descendants of the God of Light. We ourselves are descended from the people of Darkness, the same clan to which the Water Maiden belonged, she who married the last-born son of the God of Light so long ago. Like the Water Maiden, our task is to still the raging blood of the God of Light, the violence of the heavens that still runs in his descendants’ veins, the fury which renders it impossible for their souls to set down roots.”

  “Set down roots? What do you mean?” the chief asked.

  “Surely their actions make that obvious,” the high priestess said curtly. “They can never be content no matter where they are. They build a capital only to destroy it and build another. They are constantly driven to conquer new lands, and they don’t know how to stop. No matter where they go in Toyoashihara, they will never find peace, yet they remain oblivious of that fact. It’s the blood of the Light. It will take centuries to still their violent nature so that they can plant their feet firmly on the ground. That is why we are here. Lady Akaru, ” she said gently, “you understand, don’t you? The duty you must bear is even heavier than that of the Keeper of the Shrine.”

  Lady Akaru had been listening with her eyes wide but she nodded her head once, slowly and deliberately.

  AFTER TWO OR THREE predictions concerning the crop for the coming year, people paid their respects to the high priestess and left the shrine one by one. Though no one said so, they were all eager to leave. Their minds were still reeling from the revelation of Lady Akaru’s fate, and all were impatient to go where they could talk freely.

  Toko too was surprised. Although she had not understood all of it, she knew that the priestess’s pronouncement had far exceeded the expectations of her parents or anyone else. Having been born in the home of the village headman, political discussions reached Toko’s ears even while she played. She had frequently heard the emperor in the capital mentioned, and while some referred to him as a ferocious hawk, she had never heard anyone say before that he was in need of protection as though he were a mere baby in diapers. Nor had she ever heard of any duty “heavier than that of the Keeper of the Shrine.”

  The high priestess is quite something, Toko thought, naively impressed. Why, she must be even greater than the emperor himself, and he’s descended from the God of Light. How I wish Oguna could have been there … No sooner had the thought passed through her mind than she turned about-face and ran back into the shrine, in the opposite direction of everyone else. The high priestess was rising slowly with the frailty of an old woman. Leaning on her two attendants, she turned toward the inner recesses of the building.

  “Keeper of the Shrine,” Toko called out.

  The high priestess turned to look at the crimson-robed girl with shining eyes who stood dauntlessly before her. Her eyes narrowed. “You’re Matono’s daughter … Toko, is it? The ceremony is over. What do you want?”

  Toko had never spoken to the high priestess directly before. Face to face, she did indeed seem not quite human, but gathering her courage, Toko said firmly, “I have come to beg a favor. Would you please permit Oguna to come to the shrine next year? Would you please make him a member of our clan?”

  “Oguna? A boy, I take it?”

  “He’s my brother. We were raised together. We’re the same age … but Oguna is smarter than me. Just a little.”

  “I see. And how old are you?”

  “Twelve.”

  At this point, Matono came rushing into the room. “Toko!” She pushed Toko behind her and apologized profusely. “Please pardon the child’s impudence. I hope she didn’t say anything to displease you.”

  The high priestess, however, did not seem in the least perturbed. She said slowly, “How quickly the time passes. I did not realize your daughter had already grown so much. But of whom was she speaking?”

  Matono flushed slightly. “We have an adopted child. Didn’t I tell you about him?”

  “No, I hadn’t heard. And what is his parentage? I’d be surprised to hear that any Tachibana home had so few children they needed to adopt.”

  Matono’s blush deepened. “Actually, I don’t know who his parents are. I found him floating down Yasuno River when I went there with my maidservant. It was soon after I had given birth to Toko.”

  “Floating down the river? A baby?”

  “He was in a little vessel made of reeds. He must have been abandoned somewhere upstream. I felt so sorry for him …”

  The high priestess looked unimpressed. “I thought you had more sense than that. You should at least have consulted me about this. Why on earth would you take in a child that you did not even know? You could have found any number of foster parents.”

  Matono remained silent a moment. Then, raising her head, she said, “I nursed him at my breast. It was the fifteenth day after Toko’s birth and the first time I went outside. I had gone to the river to cut some grasses when I heard a baby crying, so faint that at first I thought I was hearing things. And my breasts suddenly swelled with milk … When I found him, I let him drink. He was so weak with hunger he looked like he would die. How could I abandon a child whom I had nursed at my own breast? I had a wet nurse for Toko, so I decided to take him home.”

  “He has strong luck,” the high priestess said, lost in thought. “He was in a small boat made of reeds, was he?”

  “I don’t know who his real parents are, but I’ve never regretted raising him. As Toko said, he’s very intelligent.”

  Toko stood looking from one woman to the other, waiting impatiently to see how their discussion would end. Finally, the high priestess said, “Matono, I want to see this boy’s face. Next time you come, bring him with you.”

  Inwardly, Toko shouted, Hooray! concluding that the high priestess just might be human after all. When they got outside, she whispered proudly to her mother, “We did it! It shows it’s worth trying to explain, doesn’t it?”

  “I can’t believe you did that! Really!” her mother fumed.

  “What have you two been up to? What took you so long?” Onetsuhiko had come looking for them, puzzled by their absence.

  “That Toko! She had the nerve to ask the high priestess herself to let Oguna come to the shrine. Honestly! She put me in such an awkward position. She hasn’t a clue what’s going on, yet she dares to do something so rash.”

  “Father, guess what? The high priestess said we should bring Oguna next year!”

  “Well, well.”

  Matono continued her lament. “Why can’t you behave and stay out of trouble? Especially now when the eldes
t daughter of the head family has just been told her fate and the situation is so serious. Weren’t you even listening?”

  “Of course I was listening,” Toko answered, hopping along from one foot to the other. “But Oguna is just as important, isn’t he?”

  “That’s exactly what I meant. You don’t understand a thing. If Lady Akaru doesn’t stay here and become the heir to the Tachibana clan or take the place of the high priestess, then that fate must fall to Lady Akaru’s younger sister or to you. You might even have to become the high priestess. And we won’t know until it happens.”

  Toko stopped, dumbfounded. “Me …?”

  Matono said, “You will both have to go to the shrine to be trained. After all, the high priestess is very old. Her successor will have to come from your generation.”

  2

  OGUNA LOOKED at the sun through the trees in the winter grove. Clouds had appeared during the afternoon and the sun shone a wintry yellow against branches that protruded like bare bones. He wandered aimlessly through the woods behind the chief’s hall. Relatives already filled the hall, warming themselves by the charcoal fires and renewing old bonds while awaiting the master of the house. Among them, however, was a group of youths who were invariably nasty to Oguna when they saw him. As long as there were no witnesses, they would not hesitate to bully him. Preferring to be alone, he had gone around the back rather than enter the building.

  Oguna knew what made him an easy target. He was different. He was small, he was quiet, and Toko always stood up for him. There were many reasons for Oguna’s very existence to irritate those less fortunate than he, though he was at the bottom of the Tachibana social ladder. And because he understood, it did not really bother him. He accepted it as part of his situation. Oguna knew the faces of those most likely to torment him, and as long as he managed to keep out of their way, he did not suffer much.

  The violence of this particular group of boys, however, had escalated over the years so that even Oguna could no longer brush it off. No matter how hard he thought about it, he could not understand why they hated him so intensely. Oguna had yet to realize that with each passing year he became increasingly conspicuous, fanning the flame of their envy.

  The chief’s procession would stop midway down the mountain for a rest and return to the hall before evening. Oguna tried to gauge the passage of time, and when he thought that people would be lining up outside the gate to greet the returning procession, he turned his steps in the direction of the hall. He was still among the trees, however, when he glimpsed someone’s shadow. As he turned toward it, a mocking voice rang out.

  “Hah! Look at the little coward hiding in the woods. Come on, guys! Let’s get him!”

  Oguna began to run, hoping to break out of the forest as fast as he could. But it was no use. One of the youths had run ahead and blocked his way. Oguna bit his lip. Four pimply young men confronted him; they were the same familiar faces, rebels that even the chief found hard to control. This was far worse than if they had caught him in the chieftain’s hall. Here there was no one to question their behavior. Gloating, they advanced toward him like hunters who had cornered a deer. Their skin was flushed and their eyes were glazed from drinking sake all morning.

  “What’s your hurry now? Why are you running away? We’re inviting you to spend a little time with us. What’s the matter? Do you think you’re too good for us? A foundling like you! Don’t be such an arrogant brat!”

  They jabbed at him and pushed him, surrounding him on all sides so that he could not back away. At first, Oguna was merely anxious. He knew he was in serious trouble. But when he saw how they enjoyed his predicament, his anger rose. “Are you sure you want to do this?” he said, his voice stern. “The procession will be back any minute.”

  “Shut up! Can you believe this squirt? He’s helpless without Toko, always hiding behind her skirt. You can’t tell which one’s a girl!”

  “Sure you can. He’s the girl. Just look at his face.” Their shrill laughter rang through the quiet wood. “Hey there, little girl, serve us sake. Come on now, bat those eyelashes and pour us a drink.”

  Oguna remained silent, and one of them grabbed him by the collar and pulled him close. “Don’t underestimate us. Some who’ve crossed us didn’t make it home in one piece.”

  Oguna was not afraid of being hit. At least he thought he wasn’t, so he said, “If you want to hit me, go ahead. But don’t blame me if you get in trouble for punching someone on New Year’s Day.”

  “Listen to the brat!”

  “We’d better teach him that there’s some things a coward should never say.”

  Oguna’s calm fanned their fury, and they let him know with their fists and feet. He felt his lip split open. That was bearable, but a hard kick in the stomach left him gasping on the ground in a pile of dead leaves, unable to rise.

  “He’s not even fit to be a girl,” one of them jeered. It was Oshikuma, the cruelest of the four and their ringleader. “Here, I’ll show you. Watch this.” He put his hand in a pouch tied at his waist. Pulling out something long and black, he grabbed Oguna by the hair and shoved it in his face. Instantly, Oguna began to scream.

  It was a snake. Oshikuma had gone to great lengths to dig one out of hibernation. Though small and so stiff with cold it barely moved, it was enough to make Oguna forget everything else. Swinging the snake by the tail, Oshikuma struck him repeatedly, laughing uproariously when Oguna cowered and hid his head in his hands.

  “You see! Look at that! Even a girl wouldn’t be so scared!”

  For as long as he could remember, Oguna had been terrified of snakes. He trembled at the mere sight of one and had once even fainted at the touch, so that the nurse Tatame had mistakenly thought him ill.There was one other thing he could not stand: lightning. Snakes and lightning—for fearing these two commonplace things he was branded a coward, though he feared little else.

  Now he was completely helpless. Neither pride nor appearances mattered anymore. He sobbed and begged Oshikuma to stop. “I’ll do anything you want!” he cried.

  Oshikuma’s mouth twisted into a cruel grin as he stopped twirling the snake. “I heard that. You said anything, right? You’d better keep your word and do what I say. I want you to …” What he said was so disgusting that the blood drained from Oguna’s face and then flooded back again.

  At that moment, a high-pitched voice, burning with rage, rang through the forest. “You there! I know your faces and your names! I’m going to tell my uncle everything. How dare you stoop so low, especially on New Year’s Day!”

  Toko stood on the bank looking down into the forest, her bright crimson robe vivid against the gray clump of trees. Her gaze was so fierce and her tone so forceful it was hard for the young men to believe she was just a twelve-year-old girl. Oguna’s tormentors froze, rooted to the spot. “Why don’t you get lost?” Toko continued. “Or do you really want me to tell my uncle? You’ll be sorry then. Listen carefully. Don’t ever lay a finger on Oguna again, you understand? Unless you wish to be banished from this clan forever.”

  They swore at her under their breath, but they could not defy Toko. While she might sound like a bossy little girl, as the high priestess’s niece, her words carried weight.

  “Hah! What a joke! He’s such a baby he has to be rescued by a girl,” Oshikuma spat as a parting shot. He smacked the snake against the ground. They sulked off looking somewhat deflated.

  Toko glared after them until they were out of sight and then flew down the bank to Oguna’s side. “Are you all right? Can you stand up?”

  “The snake … could you move it?” he said faintly.

  “Honestly! Where did they get this?” She picked up the snake distastefully and threw it into the bushes, then rubbed her hand against the trunk of a tree.

  As soon as it was gone, Oguna perked up. “Thanks! I’m so glad you came.” He stood up and began dusting the dirt from his knees.

  “Your mouth, it’s bleeding.”

  “It doe
sn’t hurt,” he said, licking the blood from his lips.

  “You’d better put a cold cloth on it or it might swell up.”

  “Really, it’s all right. Besides, I was hoping you’d get home while it was still light. Let’s go to the pond and see the construction site like we planned.”

  “Oguna! You’re unbelievable!” Toko said. “How can you get over that so easily? I’m still furious! I’ll never forget how mad they made me. If I hadn’t come, what would have happened to you?”

  Oguna shrugged his shoulders. “Don’t worry about it. Nothing really happened.”

  “How can I not worry about it? They were so awful, and what he said to you was disgusting. Doesn’t it make you mad? It should!”

  “Well, yes, it does, but …” he muttered doubtfully. “It’s my own fault that I’m afraid of snakes …”

  Toko stamped her foot. “Honestly! That’s exactly why I can’t leave you alone for a minute without worrying. But what am I to do? I won’t be here forever …” She broke off suddenly. Oguna blinked and waited for her to go on, but she said nothing. In the sudden silence, they heard a servant calling Toko’s name from the direction of the hall. Toko had rushed off in search of Oguna the instant she had dismounted from her horse.

  She turned away abruptly, grabbed Oguna’s hand, and began walking away from the hall. “Let’s go see that pond. I just can’t go back there and greet everyone cheerfully right now.”