Mirror Sword and Shadow Prince

by Noriko Ogiwara

  “You?” the prince said as he shoved his half-drawn sword back into its sheath. “You came again? You seem to like my pond. Where’s your companion? Lady Toko?”

  Oguna shook his head. “I came alone. I was on my way back from an errand to the chief’s hall.”

  “I see. Taking a little detour, were you?” the prince teased him. “Well, if you don’t tell anyone what you heard, I won’t tell on you either.”

  Oguna nodded. He was heartily regretting having come.

  The prince struck his knee with the palm of his hand and stood up. “Why don’t we go together? The headman of Kamitsusato has invited me several times to come visit him. It looks like I’d be better off staying there for a while and cooling down.”

  “What about your attendant?”

  “Don’t worry. He’ll take care of things for me if I’m not there.”

  Ignorant of the recklessness of the prince’s actions, Oguna was pleased. He had never expected to have a chance to be alone with the prince like this. Even though the young man’s identity was now public knowledge, the prince’s attitude toward Oguna had not changed. He was still friendly and generous. They walked together toward the road through the valley that led to Kamitsusato.

  Oguna was usually quiet around anyone other than Toko, but now he found himself very talkative as the prince adopted the role of confidant. When Oguna described how he and Toko had borrowed clothes from the village children and watched the tournament from under the chief’s stand, however, the taciturn prince laughed out loud.

  “You two certainly know how to keep people entertained. Lady Toko is quite a girl. I doubt that Lady Akaru was such a tomboy when she was little … or perhaps I’m wrong.”

  “No, she was always gentle and modest,” Oguna said, and then added, “At least, on the outside.”

  “Yes. She looks so fragile that the wind might blow her away, but she’s got a strong character,” the prince said, as if to himself. Then he looked at Oguna. “You know, despite what I said the other day, Lady Toko comes from the same stock as Lady Akaru. She may be rough and unruly now, but she just might turn into a beauty one of these days.”

  “Toko?” Oguna looked incredulous.

  “Considering that you attempted double suicide, the two of you have surprisingly little sense of romance.”

  “Toko likes you. She says there’s no one stronger than you. Actually, most of the girls in Mino think so now.”

  “Well, yes,” Prince Oh-usu said, not bothering to deny it.

  “I’ve been wondering how to become stronger,” Oguna continued.

  “You want to be strong?”

  “Yes. Toko says she can’t leave me alone for a second without worrying about me.”

  “That’s pretty pathetic.”

  “I think I could do it. As long as I don’t run into any snakes or lightning.”

  The prince burst out laughing. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I had no idea you’d be so entertaining. Just being with you has cheered me up.”

  “Do you think it’s impossible?”

  “I wonder. Physical force isn’t where true strength comes from … although your fear of lightning might be a problem. To be strong means to remain unfazed no matter what. When you can stay calm and respond appropriately in any situation, you’ll be strong. That’s what martial arts are about. They teach you how to eliminate any wasted effort and energy during combat.”

  The prince remained silent for a while. Then he casually pulled a dagger from inside his robe and handed it to Oguna. “Have you ever used one of these before?” he asked.

  “I’ve used a small knife to carve wood a little.”

  “This weapon is for self-defense. If you ever have to protect your life with it, point the blade forward, straight away from you, and watch your opponent calmly, following the flow of his movements. When he attacks, strike with the flow. It won’t do you any good to close your eyes.”

  Perplexed by the prince’s words, Oguna wrapped his hand around the handle of the dagger. “It looks as if you may get to try it sooner than you think,” the prince continued in a low voice. “We’re in for a bit of trouble. Watch out for arrows and keep your ears open.”

  They were standing in a natural cleft in the mountain that was roofed with pine and oak, like a tunnel leading into a tomb. It was dusky inside and no birds sang, but Oguna realized he could feel something in the air, something hard and menacing, not bighearted like the trees. “What is it?” he whispered.

  “It appears that there are some in Mino who don’t think so well of me.”

  “The chief would never allow it!”

  Prince Oh-usu let out a short laugh. “Really? Even though I’m about to take Lady Akaru away?”

  Straining every nerve to hear, Oguna’s anxiety intensified until he felt that he was going to suffocate. His mind still doubted, but the goose bumps on his flesh affirmed what the prince had said. Besides, it was clear that while Oguna had never experienced anything like this before, the prince was used to it. Without warning, Prince Oh-usu pushed Oguna roughly to the ground. At the same moment, several arrows zipped through the air. Oguna stared wide-eyed at the white shafts quivering in the earth before his face.

  “There!” the prince said, looking up at the cliff. Then he shouted, “Stop behaving like cowards! I thought the men of Mino were made of better stuff than that. If you attacked knowing that I’m the prince then at least come out and explain yourselves!”

  Six or seven figures appeared from behind the trees on the cliff and swiftly descended a path known only to locals. Armed with knives and clubs, their heads were hooded so that only their eyes showed. But instead of attacking when the prince drew his sword, they formed a semicircle around him and Oguna, backing them against the face of the cliff.

  The man closest to them spoke in a muffled voice. “Let me answer your question, son of the emperor beyond the mountains. As messengers of the earth gods, we’ve come to punish you for sauntering arrogantly into Mino. We won’t let you take Lady Akaru. Go back to Mahoroba with your palanquin empty.”

  “You seem rather a shabby lot for messengers of the gods,” the prince said with a crooked smile. “Besides, don’t you think you’ve underestimated how many men you need to teach me a lesson?”

  Several men recoiled at his words, but the rest roared with anger.

  One of them attacked. As the prince parried the first blow, he yelled at Oguna. “Run!”

  Oguna took off at top speed. One man was tripped by the prince as he tried to intercept Oguna, but another, hatchet raised, rapidly closed in on the boy. Oguna could not stand the thought of being struck down from behind. Desperately, he leapt to one side, evading the descending hatchet, and turned to face his attacker, the dagger gripped tightly in his hand.

  “Hah! Coward! You can’t stop me,” the masked man jeered. Once again, he raised his weapon. It gleamed dully.

  Watch your opponent, following the flow of his movements. When he attacks, strike with the flow. The thought sped through Oguna’s mind as he lunged forward, striking at the man’s breast. Something warm and wet spurted across Oguna’s arm and chest before the man lumbered past, roaring like a beast and clapping his free hand to his side. Unable to grasp that he had caused this agony, Oguna stood stunned. And thus he was unprepared when the man turned like a wounded bear, his hatchet raised once more.

  He’s going to kill me. This time, he thought, it would be his turn to scream. But at that moment, an arrow sank into the man’s chest with a dull thud. Oguna whirled around in surprise and saw Nanatsuka. Gripping the flanks of his galloping horse with his thighs as he fit another arrow to his bow, he swept past Oguna to aid the prince. In the thunder of hoofbeats, Oguna’s attacker slowly crumpled to the ground.

  Oguna sat down, gasping for breath, and stared at the motionless figure. He did not need to remove the mask. He had known from the beginning who he was—Oshikuma. And without any compunction, he would have killed Oguna to silence him. Ogu
na wrenched his eyes away from the body and looked down at the blood that stained his hand and dagger.

  By the time Nanatsuka had dismounted, the prince was the only one left standing. Three men lay prostrate on the ground at his feet and the rest had fled at the sound of hooves. The prince called out cheerfully, “Nanatsuka! How did you know?”

  “When Lady Akaru returned alone to the hall, I thought something was wrong. Are you all right?”

  “Sure. They weren’t worth much. They couldn’t even conceal an ambush properly. I think they were just a bunch of hooligans.”

  “I must beg you not to make your servant follow after your scent like a hound. Especially when you know your life is in danger.”

  “All right, all right. But what about Oguna? Is he okay?”

  “Yes. I shot his attacker.”

  Nanatsuka walked over to Oguna and raised him gently to his feet. It was only then that the boy turned to him with a dazed expression. Glancing at the bloodstained dagger in Oguna’s hand, the prince said, “It looks like you struck quite a blow. Not bad, especially considering you’d only used a knife for whittling before.”

  Nanatsuka had to take his hand and pry his fingers open before Oguna let go.

  “I knew him. He was someone I knew,” Oguna said in a strained voice, afraid that he might cry if he let his feelings out.

  “I see.” The prince placed his hand gently on Oguna’s head. “But it’s only natural to protect yourself if you’re about to be killed. If you die, you’re finished. You’re a good kid. I’m glad you weren’t killed because of me.”

  “We must report this to the capital,” Nanatsuka said indignantly. “We can’t turn a blind eye to the fact that these people tried to kill you.”

  “There’s no need. I don’t want to damage our relationship with Mino. There can’t be many of these extremists. It’ll settle down soon.”

  “But—”

  The prince cut him off. “Nanatsuka, enough. I like this land and its people. I’ll show you that we can win their hearts without using force. I’m very popular, you know. After all, I won the tournament.”

  “It appears that you’ve also won their envy.”

  “Leave it. There’s no point in getting upset over a few renegades.” He patted Oguna on the head once more and said, “You forget it too. You did well. And remember that these words of praise come from a prince. If you want to become strong, then you’ll have to learn to let some things go.” When Oguna continued to look miserable, the prince bent down and looked him in the eyes. Then, as if he had made a decision, he said, “I’ll be leaving soon to take Lady Akaru to the capital. Why don’t you come with me? Come and learn what I’ve learned. Whether it’s engineering or martial arts, you’ll be instructed in the best knowledge and skills available. You’ve got potential. In four or five years, you could become the best double I could ever have, and not just in looks either.”

  “Double …?”

  “You’ll be my shadow, one of my closest attendants, trained to take my place when needed—a secret weapon. Think about it. It’s not a bad offer. After all, one day I’ll succeed to my father’s throne.”

  4

  PRINCE OH-USU and Oguna arrived together at the headman’s hall in Kamitsusato. Men were sent to bring back the dead and wounded. Having barely escaped with their lives, the survivors were quick to reveal the names of those who had fled, and it was not long before the headman’s men caught them. By evening, they were being interrogated by the chief, who had rushed over, pale with shock, as soon as he had heard the news. The captives hung their heads and insisted that they had acted on their own.

  Although it remained unclear who led the ambush, the prince did not press the matter any further. He saw no point in pursuing it, a fact that greatly impressed the chief. Although the chief ordered everyone to keep the incident quiet, the tale had already spread from one village to the next.

  When Oguna returned with blood-spattered clothes, Toko had at first turned pale, but once she knew he was all right, she bombarded him with questions and then sulked when he was unresponsive. She was terribly disappointed that he and the prince had had an adventure without her, especially as she had been forced to spend that time practicing dance with the other girls, something she detested. Although she enjoyed solo dancing, she had a hard time keeping in step with others.

  “Fine, then. I understand. You go out and have this great adventure with the prince but you don’t want to tell me anything about it. You’ve become such good friends you want to leave me out, right? Well, go ahead then. See if I care. I just won’t talk to you anymore.”

  Having said that, of course, it was Toko who suffered. Instead of coming to apologize the way he usually did, Oguna went off on his own, despondent. Toko was so worried about him that she could not concentrate on anything, yet she could not back down either. She managed to stay true to her word until bedtime. As she lay under the covers, she kept her ears pricked for his return, but no matter how long she waited, there was no sign of him. Finally, she could stand it no longer.

  Stupid, stupid Oguna! Why do you make me worry like this? She was sure he must be outside somewhere. Although a rare occurrence, he had disappeared like this before. She rose and threw on her clothes. Quietly lifting the latch on the door to their sleeping quarters, Toko slipped outside. Winter had relaxed its cold grip and a hazy moon hung in the sky. The main hall to the south where the guests were being entertained was lit by brightly burning torches and guarded by eager local youths. Toko turned away from them and headed north to search a row of low-roofed sheds. She found Oguna sitting on the thatched roof of the last shed and gazing up at the Seven Northern Stars. She climbed up with practiced movements and sat down beside him wordlessly. He showed no sign of surprise, simply accepting her presence.

  “I stabbed Oshikuma,” he said abruptly, as if this thought had been running through his mind the whole time. “It’s the same as if I killed him. The prince pulled his blows so as not to kill anyone. Oshikuma was the only one who died.”

  “It was his own fault,” Toko said indignantly. “What he was trying to do was unforgivable.”

  “He wanted to kill me … I wonder why he hated me so much? Do you know, Toko?”

  “No, but whatever the reason, you’re not to blame. You know what Mother would say if she were here: ‘When you hate someone, it comes right back to you.’”

  Oguna hugged his knees. “I didn’t mean to kill him … I just … I guess I just wanted to do a good job.”

  “You must’ve been so scared,” Toko said. “I can’t even bear to think of it—being attacked by someone who wants to murder you. You couldn’t have had time to even think about what you were doing. You shouldn’t brood about things like that, Oguna.”

  “But I wasn’t scared,” he said flatly. “That’s why it bothers me. I wanted to see what would happen if I did what the prince said. So I tried it. Even though I knew what it meant. Even though I knew that it was Oshikuma. I don’t understand myself.”

  “No one could blame you for taking revenge. Come on, Oguna. Cheer up, would you? When you brood like this, you make me feel bad too.”

  In the light of the moon, the grim look on his face made him seem older—a young man, more sensitive than the prince.

  “What’s wrong with me? Why am I afraid of lightning but not afraid of stabbing someone? It’s not right. If it were the opposite, it would make more sense. I wonder who my parents were that I should be born this way.”

  “Don’t say that, Oguna. You’re you, and personally I don’t see anything wrong with that at all. It’s never caused us any problems, right?”

  “I want to be stronger,” he said. “If I were strong like the prince, I wouldn’t worry about things like this. I could fight without killing the other person and I could forgive, too. When I grow up, that’s the kind of person I want to be.”

  Toko smiled. “Now that I can agree with.”

  Oguna gave her a pleading look. “
Then you’ll understand what I’m planning to do, won’t you, Toko? I’m going to the capital with the prince. He invited me to go, and I’ve decided to accept. I want to go and see what I can do, what I can become.”

  Toko blinked owlishly. “Wait a minute … What are you talking about?”

  “The prince is probably talking with Father and Mother right now. He wants to take me into his service when he goes back to the capital.”

  Toko’s bewilderment turned to fury. “What?” she shouted, making Oguna cringe. “How could you decide something like that without even asking me?” she demanded. “When I wasn’t even there? Is that how little you think of me? You’re so stupid! I never want to see you again! Go ahead! Go off on your own! I couldn’t care less!”

  “Toko!”

  But she ignored him. Before he could stop her she slid hastily down from the roof, missed her footing, and fell onto a pile of barrels stacked under the eaves.

  ONETSUHIKO and Matono accepted the prince’s proposal without hesitation. For someone as illustrious as the prince to take Oguna into his care was beyond their wildest dreams, and tears of gratitude welled in their eyes. Onetsuhiko immediately began preparing a celebration for the whole village while Matono threw herself into gathering the things Oguna would need for the journey. She called him to her and hugged him tightly, something she rarely did anymore.

  “Oguna,” she said. “It’s because I’m your mother that I’m sending you away. Do you understand? I’m sending you away because I can’t see anything here for you in the future. But don’t forget. I will always be thinking of you. And not just me—everyone in this family will. Remember that whenever you feel alone.”

  Toko did not speak to Oguna for two whole days. Her silence unnerved him. Having sprained her ankle when she fell from the roof, she was immobilized anyway, but whenever Oguna went to her room and attempted to talk to her, she drew the covers up over her head. By the night of the second day, after repeated rejection, Oguna was desperate.

  “Toko,” he said solemnly. “I’m sorry. So would you please forgive me? Won’t you at least talk to me? Please. Tomorrow I have to leave for the chief’s hall, and the next day the procession will leave for the capital. This is my last chance to talk with you. Please say something …” The hump under the covers remained silent. “I know you’re angry with me, but please be reasonable. This would have happened sooner or later anyway. Just the other way around, that’s all. You told me that, remember? You said that one day you’d have to leave me behind. It’s just happening a few years earlier, that’s all.”