Mirror Sword and Shadow Prince

by Noriko Ogiwara

  “Who would have guessed that you’d be walking along the main road in broad daylight dressed like that?” Tsunuga stammered. “Our men went off to Suzuka, not knowing you’d be here.”

  “Don’t worry. I sent Nanatsuka there. He’ll make sure they catch up with us. There won’t be many enemy troops left at Suzuka anyway.”

  “Then the danger has passed?”

  “For now, at least. We have a bit of breathing room. I’m going to straighten up now. If I stay like this any longer, I’ll never be able to stand straight again.” He grimaced as he stretched, looking a little more like the prince.

  When the first shock had finally worn off and Toko found herself able to speak again, she asked the question that was forefront in her mind. “So where’s Oguna? Is he with Nanatsuka?”

  Their faces stiffened, making them look once again like strangers. Toko, overjoyed at this miraculous reunion and buoyed by relief, was totally unprepared for their reaction. A chill gripped her to the bone, as though the world had frozen. “Why … do you look like that?”

  “Toko—” Lady Akaru’s voice broke.

  “Lady Toko,” the prince said gravely, “it’s thanks to Oguna that we are here now. He sacrificed himself so that we could escape. Without him, not one of us would have been able to cross that pass alive.”

  “Oguna’s not here …?” It seemed to Toko that her voice belonged to someone else.

  The prince briefly explained how they had parted. She listened silently, holding her breath, until his words finally penetrated her brain. Then she asked with unnatural composure, “So the prince that they caught was Oguna, is that right?”

  “Yes.”

  No sooner had he answered than Toko turned on her heel and began walking in the opposite direction—toward Suzuka. The others stared after her briskly receding figure; then Tsunuga dashed after her and grabbed her arm.

  “Just a minute! Where do you think you’re going?”

  “I came all this way to see Oguna, so I’m going after him. I’m going to the capital. Let me go!”

  “Don’t be ridiculous! You can’t do that!”

  Toko raised her eyebrows and glared at him. “When I say I’m going, I’m going. My mother told me to go and find Oguna. I might still make it in time. I’m going after him. If you’re that worried about me, then you can come too.”

  Tsunuga was a very patient man, but this was too much. Unable to conceal his anger, he barked, “This time, my lady, you are not going to get your way. Our first and foremost duty is to take the prince and Lady Akaru to Mino as quickly as possible. Whether you like it or not, you’re coming with me, even if I have to carry you.”

  Toko stared at him in shock. She had never imagined that he would be angry with her.

  “It’s no use going after Oguna,” the prince said in a tight voice. “If there had been even the slightest hope of saving him, I would have done it myself. I’m sorry.”

  Toko’s gaze roved from one face to another, her eyes wide with disbelief. It was hard enough to take Tsunuga’s anger, which to her seemed totally unjustified, but it hurt even more to hear the prince say it was no use, that he was sorry. Wasn’t he the strongest man in the world, a man who should never need to say such things?

  But it was Lady Akaru who delivered the final blow. “Toko, please,” she begged. “Don’t be stubborn. It’s so hard for us to hear you say things like that.”

  Nobody understands. I can’t count on any of them. Nobody puts Oguna first. Not like me. I came all this way on blistered feet just to meet him. But they don’t understand that at all.

  All she could do now was cry. Watching her eyes well with tears, Tsunuga said hastily, “My lady … please don’t cry. I’m sorry I yelled at you. But I can’t let you expose yourself to any more danger. Please, please don’t cry.”

  Tears streamed down her face. “My feet hurt …”

  “Of course they do. This hike was just a bit too much for you.” Tsunuga threw down his bundle of firewood and knelt in front of her. “Here, climb on my back. Come on now.”

  In the end, he did, in fact, have to carry her, just as he had threatened he would. Having lost any shred of defiance, Toko clung to his back, sobbing.

  IN A CEDAR GROVE in Nobono they rejoined the men from Mino. Everyone was overjoyed to see the prince, and the chief wept when he learned that Lady Akaru was safe. Kujihiko, who had intended to thrash Tsunuga for disobeying his orders, decided to let it pass. In the end, things had worked out for the best. After the strain of the past few days, everyone was relieved—everyone except Toko, who sat by herself, sobbing quietly. Those who knew what was wrong left her alone, but one man frowned and, leaving the others, approached her softly.

  Hearing leaves crunch underfoot, Toko stopped crying for a moment and looked around. A huge, rough-hewn man with a heavy beard appeared from behind a cedar tree—Nanatsuka.

  “Are you crying for Oguna?” he asked. He looked wild and ferocious with his clothes torn and tattered and his hair and beard unkempt from their desperate flight, but his eyes were kind. Although they held no tears, they were filled with a grief as deep as Toko’s. “He wasn’t a talker and he rarely spoke of home, but he often mentioned your name. The only thing he ever talked about of his own accord was you.”

  “I don’t believe you,” Toko said. “You don’t have to try to make me feel better.”

  “… But it’s true.”

  “I’m angry. I’m just so mad at everyone. And at Oguna as well. He promised me he’d come back, but then he went and broke his promise. Even though I waited for him all this time. He chose the prince instead of coming back. So how can I believe that he was thinking of me?”

  Nanatsuka moved closer. When he sat down beside her, he filled the small clearing. “Lady Toko,” he said gently. “In this world, certain things must take priority over what we want most. This is especially true for men. You may not like it, but what he did was very noble. He behaved like a man. You should be praising him instead of saying such things about him. It isn’t fair to criticize him when he valued loyalty so highly.”

  “But … if I can’t be angry … then I just don’t know what to do …” she said, choking on the words. “It’s not fair!” she cried. “I want Oguna. I want to see him again.”

  Nanatsuka reached out his hand and patted her awkwardly on the back. He knew that nothing he could say would comfort her. Toko turned and clung to him, weeping her heart out. “It’s good to know that there is someone to cry for him,” Nanatsuka said as he held her. “I’m glad that he has someone who cares enough to grieve for him.”

  THEY RETURNED to Mino. Lady Akaru inhaled the fragrance of her homeland, now in the harvest season, and smiled through her tears at the familiar shape of the hills, drinking in every little detail.

  “I’m home. I’m finally home. It’s almost frightening to have my wish come true like this. To wish for anything more seems like a sin.”

  Something in her tone disturbed the prince. Although she was in high spirits despite her fatigue, from the moment Akaru had set foot in Mino she seemed to have become quietly resigned. “What are you talking about?” he chided her. “It’s what we do from now on that really matters. Why do you speak as if it’s all over? I know the emperor will never leave us alone, but Mino is a natural stronghold. If we can repel his first assault, he won’t be able to touch us again for some time. Our chances are good.”

  Lady Akaru smiled at him. “Yes. I have complete faith in your ability as a commander. You go to Kukuri and do what you have to do. But I must go to the shrine. I don’t know if I can justify my actions to the Keeper of the Shrine, but I must try.”

  The prince’s eyes widened in surprise. “But why? Why should you need to ask pardon for what you did? Anyone who knows the truth could never blame you for what happened when the emperor took you as his wife.”

  Lady Akaru shook her head a little. “The priestess will. I have returned to Mino. In doing so, I have ignored our laws
, defied destiny, and failed in my duty as a Tachibana … I can’t come back without facing her judgment. I am more afraid of her than of anyone else. But this is the battle that I must fight.” She raised her eyes and her gaze was firm and steady. “You chose to fight against your own father, the emperor, for my sake, so I will face the priestess, the most powerful member of our clan. I don’t want to lose this battle. For your sake, and for mine.”

  “In that case, I’ll go with you,” the prince said, taking her hands in his. “We’ll let everyone know that anyone who criticizes you must face me as well. Together, we are one.”

  “Yes, we are one. But the high priestess will only meet people of our clan. You must let me go alone,” she said firmly. “I’ll be all right.”

  3

  “THAT’S WHAT she said?” the chief asked. “My daughter? She really said that?”

  “Yes,” Oh-usu said. “She also said there was no need to say goodbye because she’ll be back soon.” Lady Akaru had left with just a few servants and headed northeast.

  “I see.” Kamubonehiko bowed his head.

  Disturbed by his bleak expression, the prince asked, “What do you think the high priestess will do?”

  “I have no idea. When it comes to the priestess’s purview, I’m out of my depth. After all, I’m just her son-in-law.” He sighed deeply. “Let’s just pray that it doesn’t come to the worst.”

  The prince frowned. “What do you mean by ‘the worst’?”

  “Nothing,” Kamubonehiko said hastily, shaking his head. “Don’t mind me. I’m overanxious. I’ve been worrying about my daughter for so long. Now that we’ve finally won her back, let’s not think about anything bad.” Having said this, however, he lapsed into a glum silence.

  They pressed on toward Kukuri. As he rode, the prince struggled to suppress his concern, but finally he could stand it no longer. Jerking the reins so sharply that his steed reared and whinnied in protest, he wheeled around to face the way they had just come. “I’m sorry,” he said, “but I can’t stop worrying. My lord, please carry on to Kukuri ahead of me. I’ll join you as soon as I know that Lady Akaru is all right.”

  The chief did not protest and in fact seemed relieved. As leader of the clan, he could not ask the prince to aid his daughter, yet in his heart he had hoped that he would.

  Nanatsuka immediately turned to follow the prince. “I’ll go with you,” he said.

  “So will I,” came a clear voice. Everyone stared in surprise as Toko rode up.

  Tsunuga hurried over. “My lady, you can’t. You aren’t well. You must return to the hall and rest.” After weeping the entire night in Nobono, Toko had come down with a fever and had had to be carried for most of the return trip.

  “I’m fine,” she said. Now that she was recovering her strength, she was tired of being treated so delicately. “My fever’s gone, and the prince will need someone to guide him. Besides, only members of the Tachibana clan are allowed to enter the shrine.”

  “You know, she’s right,” the prince said.

  “But she shouldn’t go alone,” Tsunuga insisted. “I’ll go with her.”

  “No. I think the fewer the better,” the prince said. “Lady Toko can ride with me. She’s as light as a feather, so she won’t burden my horse.” That settled the matter, and the three of them set off after Lady Akaru.

  Nanatsuka rode up beside Toko and peered at her anxiously. “Are you sure you’re all right?” He was so large and sturdy that to him she appeared exceedingly fragile.

  She smiled up at him. “I wasn’t really sick. I was just … dreaming. The dream’s gone now, so I’m better.”

  “You were dreaming?” He looked doubtful.

  Toko hesitated but then decided to share her secret. “Oguna’s alive! He was badly hurt, but he didn’t die and he’s getting better.”

  The prince had been listening silently, but at this he started. “What? How do you know?”

  “I felt him. I kept dreaming of our childhood, and I knew that he was having the same dream. I could tell he was wounded and delirious. That’s what made me feverish. When we were little we both came down with the measles at the same time. Ever since then, when one of us gets a fever, the other always does too.”

  The prince and Nanatsuka were speechless, unsure as to whether they should believe her or not. Oblivious, Toko chattered on. “I was worried at first, but his injuries weren’t fatal. I would never have had a dream like that if he were dead. And I wouldn’t have gotten a fever either. He’s alive. And if he’s alive, that means I’ll get to see him again someday, right? In the last dream, somebody was taking care of him …”

  Toko stopped abruptly. She now remembered sensing some strange force that had shut her out, as if a curtain had been drawn around Oguna. This troubled her. Someone radiating waves of power had been by his side from start to finish, preventing her from drawing any closer. Consequently, she had not seen Oguna’s face even once.

  Who was that?

  But whenever she tried to understand what she had felt, it slipped through her grasp like a lizard’s tail. It was not something she could put into words and explain to her companions.

  After a while the prince cleared his throat. “Do you often see things like that? I mean, you know—dreams that come true?” he asked.

  “No, almost never. I only dream when I have a fever.”

  Nanatsuka dispelled the awkward pause that followed. “Well, if what you just told us is true,” he said, “that’s great news. It makes me feel much better just to think that he might be alive somewhere.”

  “Doesn’t it?” Toko beamed at him. “I’m not going to cry or sulk anymore. I’m sorry that I made so much trouble.”

  It was clear from her expression that she really had recovered from her grief. Nanatsuka was impressed. Although she might look slender and fragile, Toko had extraordinary resilience and tenacity.

  “Isn’t this Moyama? Where the bird funeral took place?” the prince said abruptly as they climbed the mountain path.

  “Oh, so you’ve heard the story about our ancestor the crow,” Toko said happily.

  “Yes. Didn’t the maiden’s soul turn into a white bird and fly back from the land of the dead? I wonder if that story contains some clue about how to defy death. Lady Toko, have you ever heard a tale about a magatama?”

  “A magatama? No, never. What kind of tale?”

  “I don’t know myself, but Lady Akaru mentioned a special magatama … I wonder where your priestess’s power comes from?” he muttered absently. “I never thought that the powers wielded by the ancient gods might still exist; after all, so much time has passed since the world was formed. But somehow they still seem a part of your lives. At least, that’s what it feels like when I’m with you and Lady Akaru. Your high priestess sounds quite formidable, you know.”

  “Really? It’s true that people say her premonitions are from the gods …” Toko, unsure of what he was trying to say, followed the thread of her own thoughts. “But predictions don’t always come true. Take the weather for example. People often predict sunshine and get rain instead.”

  The prince looked up at the trees. “This forest is so thick, you can’t even see the sky let alone guess the weather. Do we still have far to go? I doubt that anyone who lives shut away in a forest like this has much sense of humor.”

  The ancient forest, its giant trees standing row upon row, was dark and quiet even in the daytime. It showed no hint of the season or any sign of wildlife. It finally dawned on Toko that the prince found the depth and silence unsettling.

  “My father,” he continued, “is obsessed with the idea of defying death. During my grandfather’s reign, there was some tale of a tree whose fruit gave eternal youth. My grandfather sent a man named Tajima to search for it. Decades passed. Ironically, by the time Tajima returned with a fruit, my grandfather had passed away and no longer needed it. The fruit, however, proved to have no magical powers, and Tajima, a feeble old man himself, died soon after
. But the journey was not completely in vain. My father, who was already seated on the throne, gleaned one fact from Tajima—eternal youth is somehow linked to the Tachibana tree. Ever since he has been pursuing this possibility like a man possessed. He first sent me to Mino because the name of your clan is Tachibana.”

  “I never knew there was such a legend about the Tachibana,” Toko said, surprised but pleased.

  “You really don’t know anything? But you were born to become a priestess too, weren’t you?”

  “No, I don’t have to because Kisako, the chief’s second daughter, is going to be the next high priestess. She’s the same age as me, but she’s training at the shrine right now.”

  The prince seemed a little too interested. “Ah, Lady Akaru’s younger sister. And is she just as beautiful?”

  Toko gave him a sideways glance. “Don’t ask me about Kisako, please. She and I have never gotten along. When she left to train at the shrine, she called me a ‘brainless kite.’ So I told her she was a vain little magpie. Everyone laughed and that made her really mad. She’s never forgiven me.”

  Toko’s words shattered the solemn, oppressive atmosphere of the forest. The prince and Nanatsuka held their breath, struggling not to laugh out loud.

  IN A LARGE ROOM deep within the hall, Lady Akaru knelt on the bare wooden floor facing a dais at the end of the room. She held her hands decorously in front of her and kept her head bowed low. She had been waiting like this for some time, but the shrine priestess’s chair remained empty. To Akaru, the priestess’s failure to appear despite her request for an audience felt like a rebuke. The hair falling across her face hid her expression as she frantically reviewed her every action to see if she had omitted some important point of etiquette and offended the priestess. True, Akaru had been in a hurry, but she had still brushed her hair carefully, washed off all the grime of the journey, and put on clean clothes. She had regained her composure, or at least she thought she had. The way her younger sister Kisako had looked at her as she had helped her wash, however, had made her feel somehow unclean. No matter how pure the water, you can never wash away your sin, Kisako’s eyes had said.