Mirror Sword and Shadow Prince

by Noriko Ogiwara

  She found Matono out in the back, wearing an apron, scarf, and the expression of an army general as she commanded a troop of women preparing food.

  “Mother!” she called.

  “Toko! What are you doing here?”

  “I have a good reason,” Toko said hurriedly. “I’ve got to meet the prince. I have something important to give him. Where is he?”

  “He just left this morning for Kukuri.”

  “Oh no! You mean I’ve missed him?” Toko looked crestfallen. “Well, I guess it can’t be helped. I’ll have to go after him.”

  “What on earth are you talking about? Honestly, Toko. You can’t possibly go to Kukuri. The emperor’s forces are already near; it may be attacked at any moment.”

  “But that’s exactly why I have to go,” Toko said. “I have to talk to the prince before there’s war.”

  Matono looked startled. “So … you’ve heard, then? The rumor about who’s leading the emperor’s forces?”

  “Yes. Mother, what do you think?” Toko demanded. “It can’t, it just can’t be Oguna, can it? You don’t think that he would calmly agree to command the enemy troops, do you? I’ve just got to talk to the prince. I need to hear what he thinks.”

  Matono remained silent, but her grim expression deepened. Finally, she took off the scarf that bound her hair, told another woman to take over for a while, and pushed Toko toward the east wing of the house. “Come this way,” she said. “It’s too hard to talk here.”

  The room her mother chose was the one that Toko and Oguna had used as children but was now a storeroom filled with supplies. The two sat facing one another, surrounded by piles of chests and wicker boxes. Although Toko was sad to see this place full of childhood memories so changed, she ignored it as best she could. This was no time to be sentimental.

  “Perhaps it would be better for you if I said nothing,” Matono began, “but I doubt you would accept that, so let me tell you what I know. The prince is certain that Oguna is the impostor. And he’s furious.”

  Toko sucked in her breath. “He’s angry? With Oguna?”

  “It’s not surprising, really. The prince is a proud man. What could be more insulting than a rumor claiming that he’s an impostor? And as for Oguna, the prince has a good reason to be angry, one that makes it impossible to laugh this rumor off as groundless. The prince left in such a rage that I’m sure his only thought is revenge. The last thing he said to me was, ‘I was a fool to raise a snake in my bosom.’”

  “But why? He was so fond of Oguna. Why would he say such a thing? He knows that Oguna hasn’t got a single drop of malice in him.”

  Matono pressed her fingers against her eyelids as if she were exhausted. She remained like this for some time and then said haltingly, “Toko, Oguna … It turns out that Oguna is also a prince. Prince Oh-usu already suspected that he was the emperor’s child. He started investigating and discovered that the Itsuki no Miya visited Mino around the same time Oguna came to us. He guessed that Oguna must be her son. But it was such a terrible crime, and he’s not the type to hold something like that against anyone without proof. So he kept quiet. But this latest incident has brought it all out into the open. He told me he will never forgive the emperor and the Itsuki no Miya for hatching this scheme.”

  “It can’t be true …” Toko whispered hoarsely. “Oguna, a prince? It’s not possible …”

  “You know, Toko, ever since the prince told me, I’ve been blaming myself. I plucked that little baby out of the reed basket and nursed him at my breast without a second thought. Yet somehow I couldn’t bring myself to tell the priestess. I’ve been thinking. Maybe what I did was wrong. Maybe I didn’t tell the priestess because I sensed the truth.”

  Toko grabbed her mother’s arms and shook her, shouting, “Don’t say that! That’s not fair to Oguna. And not just to Oguna; it’s not fair to me, either. What would my life have been up to now without him? What’s wrong with rescuing a baby? How could a baby possibly have sinned? Mother! Mother, please! You told him it doesn’t matter who his parents are, he’s still your child! Remember? You told him so yourself.”

  Matono blinked and looked at her daughter. Then at last she smiled weakly. “Yes. Yes, that’s true. What a fool I was to regret what I did. I haven’t had much sleep these past few nights. I suppose I’m a little overtired. You’re right, but you know, I’m afraid of the high priestess. I’m afraid of what she’ll say about Oguna …”

  Abomination. Toko swallowed hard, forcing the word, which seemed unbearably heavy, back down her throat. She refused to cause her mother any more pain. “Don’t worry, Mother!” she said with excessive cheerfulness. “I’ll go find out.”

  She was already out the door when Matono scrambled up and called after her, “Toko, wait! What do you mean you’ll find out?”

  But Toko had dashed far ahead. “It’s all right. I’m just going to see the prince. I won’t do anything dangerous.”

  “Honestly! That girl!” Matono muttered with a sigh. Toko’s feet never seemed to touch the ground. She was always off like a shot whenever an idea occurred to her. How far, her mother wondered, did she intend to carry this freedom of spirit, this quality of lightness that seemed neither male nor female but more birdlike than anything else? This thought, however, only made her more anxious about her daughter’s future.

  Toko threw herself onto the horse she had ridden to Kamitsusato and headed toward the opposite gate from the one she had entered. The bulwarks here were even thicker and the watchtower heavily manned. Spotting Tsunuga among the guards at the top, Toko cupped her hands around her mouth and yelled, “Tsunuga! Tsunuga! Let me through. I have to go see the prince!”

  Startled, Tsunuga leaned over the railing, his bow in hand. “So it’s you again, Lady Toko!”

  “I’ve no time to waste talking. I have to deliver something important to the prince. It’s from Lady Akaru and it’s urgent, so hurry up!”

  “If you have something for the prince, I’ll take it for you. It’s too dangerous for you to ride to Kukuri right now.”

  Toko shook her fist in the air. “Don’t be foolish. Do you think that I’d let anyone but the prince touch the jacket Lady Akaru made for him? I promised to deliver it myself.”

  The other soldiers began poking Tsunuga and seemed to be telling him something. After a moment, he climbed down the ladder and stood in front of her looking somewhat sheepish. “Allow me to accompany you.”

  “You mean you’ll go with me? But you don’t need to do that, you know.”

  “I too fear for my safety, but everyone agrees that I’m the most suited to be your bodyguard.”

  “They think very highly of you, don’t they?”

  “Not really. It’s just that I’ve set a precedent.”

  “You don’t seem very happy about it.”

  “No, really, I’m overjoyed. After all, thanks to you I’ve made a name for myself throughout Mino.”

  Toko laughed, even though the joke was on her. Their escapade, she supposed, probably did make a funny story.

  ONCE THEY HAD passed through the valley, the camp at Kukuri came into view. It was built simply so that the soldiers could escape quickly, and to Toko, having just come from Kamitsusato, the difference between the fortifications was particularly clear. The man who stood before her after she had yet again exchanged words with the guards was none other than Nanatsuka. There was not a trace of amusement in his expression.

  “I am far from impressed by the fact that you would choose to come here. You must know that this is not the time for such antics. If you do not wish to be the cause of unnecessary deaths among our troops, you will leave immediately.”

  Even Toko was chastened by his words, yet still she begged him, “Please, just let me see the prince, even for a moment. I’ll give him the jacket from Lady Akaru and just ask him one thing. Then I’ll go, I promise. So please. I want to know that he’s not angry with Oguna. I want to hear it from his own lips.”

  Nanatsuka
’s thick eyebrows twitched and he looked pained. Toko realized that he too had been shaken by this turn of events. “Please, Nanatsuka.”

  “Lady Toko—I wish that I could grant you your wish, but the prince is not here. He left us in charge and went alone to meet the enemy commander.”

  “What?” Toko exclaimed. “He went alone? To meet Oguna?”

  “It was the enemy that asked for a parley before war broke out. The prince agreed and went alone. I tried to stop him, but—”

  “If they’ve asked for a meeting then their leader must be Oguna,” Toko said, relieved. “It’s bound to work out all right. Once they talk about it, they’ll be able to clear up any misunderstandings and things will move in a better direction.”

  “I’m not so sure,” Nanatsuka said grimly. “I have a bad feeling about this. I’m very worried about the way things could go. Even if Oguna has no ulterior motives, the people behind him are cunning and will stop at nothing. You know how they whipped the prince into a rage, don’t you? And the prince—”

  “Doesn’t stop once he’s angry, right?” Toko finished his sentence for him. Nanatsuka did not deny it. “Where are they supposed to meet?”

  “On the island. The island in the pond the prince built.”

  Toko felt a pang when she remembered how enamored Oguna had been with that island. “I’m going to see.”

  “That’s impossible. No soldiers from either side are allowed within a hundred steps of it.”

  “But I’m not a soldier.”

  “It doesn’t matter. If even one person moves, the agreement will have been breached and both sides will launch an attack. Please restrain yourself. If you do not want to fight, then pray.” His voice was hard and it was clear that he was struggling to resist running after the prince himself.

  Toko felt like weeping. Oguna is so close, she thought. He’s finally come back to Mino. Yet who could ever have imagined that he would come home in such a terrible way?

  3

  THE EMPEROR’S TROOPS advancing from Mahoroba had assembled on the banks of the river southeast of Kukuri and set up a large camp. Within the commander’s tent at the center, Oguna was arguing with Sukune, the emperor’s trusted retainer.

  “The emperor told me he wished to make peace with Prince Oh-usu. He said he wanted to prevent war from breaking out in Mino. That is why he chose me for this position. So why do you keep trying to stop me from fulfilling his purpose?” Oguna demanded, glaring at Sukune. He had reached the limit of his patience. By now, Oguna was painfully aware that he was being manipulated like a puppet, forced to dance from one intrigue to another. “I didn’t come here to take the prince’s place. I accepted command of this army only because the emperor told me he would forgive Prince Oh-usu.”

  “Of course you did,” Sukune said, a thin smile playing about his lips. He looked at Oguna, who stood in front of him with clenched fists. “And the people in the capital and the men in this army all believe that the commander of this force is the true prince. What could be wrong with that? If you return victorious, you will be greeted with thunderous ovations.”

  Sukune’s narrow face and slender figure were almost feminine. He looked more like a petty officer than a warrior, but in fact it was he who made all the decisions, while Oguna, who rode at the front of the troops, was merely an ornament. Oguna found this infuriating. “It was you who planted the rumor that the prince in Mino was an impostor, wasn’t it? There was no need to go around telling everyone that.”

  “What harm could there be in increasing your status as leader? It certainly seems to have dampened the fighting spirit of the Mino forces. Don’t you think that’s an effective way to prevent war?”

  “And just how do you think the prince felt when he heard?”

  “Doubtless he must feel your actions to be unforgivable. Which is precisely why I have been advising you that it’s pointless to talk with him face to face.”

  Oguna’s lips grew taut and he shook with anger, but still he forged on. “I must speak to him in person. He knows me. I’m sure he’ll understand that I only came here to stop Mino from becoming a battlefield. I need to explain why I accepted the role of commander—that I didn’t come here as his enemy.”

  “Do you really imagine that you can come this far and still conduct yourself as though you were his underling? When the emperor himself has recognized you as his own son?”

  Oguna looked away. “He doesn’t recognize me … I am not a prince.”

  Oguna vividly recalled the moment he had stood once more before the emperor after returning to the capital with Princess Momoso. The emperor had ordered him to describe what had happened when he had touched the sacred sword in the shrine, but that was all. His father’s dark, glittering eyes had remained totally unmoved. Then, as if Oguna had always been under his command, the emperor had appointed him as his special envoy to attempt reconciliation with Prince Oh-usu and ordered Oguna to command his forces and bring back the prince.

  “If Oh-usu returns to the capital, I will pardon his crime and forget about Lady Akaru. I will look upon this rebellion as if it had never happened,” the emperor had told him. That was why Oguna had accepted this post.

  Oguna had sensed at the time that the distance between him and the emperor would never get any smaller. The emperor did not mention their kinship, and he would probably never do so. But Oguna did not mind. He had never wanted to be a prince anyway. He had accepted the appointment simply because it meant he could go to Mino. Oguna had wanted to return so badly that he had thought he didn’t even care how.

  Now, however, he realized his own naivety. The emperor must have some scheme of his own in mind. Otherwise, Sukune, who served as the emperor’s hands and feet, would never have manipulated events in this way. Even Princess Momoso, who had expressed so much concern for Oguna, seemed to have some ulterior motive. Before he had left, she had given Oguna the Sword with a secretive smile and told him never to let it leave his side. What she was planning, he did not know.

  Oguna placed his hand on the hilt of that sword now and suppressed a feeling of helpless frustration. From the moment he had laid hands on it in the shrine, he had been propelled in a direction that seemed directly opposed to his own intentions. Far from freeing him, the proof of his birth had only driven Oguna further into a corner.

  “I’ve had enough,” he murmured. Taking off his helmet, he threw it aside and began untying the straps of his armor.

  “What are you doing?”

  “I thought it was obvious. I’m going to meet the prince. I’m going to the island where we agreed to talk.”

  “But your armor.”

  “I’m not going there to fight.”

  Under Sukune’s incredulous gaze, Oguna stripped off all the gorgeous trappings Princess Momoso had prepared for him, right down to his undergarments, and then changed into a plain white jacket and trousers. The prince once told me never to wear white when I served as his double, he thought. So I will wear this and go to meet him as Oguna.

  Sukune sighed. “If you truly wish to be killed by Prince Oh-usu, then I will not stop you. For someone who served as the prince’s shadow, however, you know surprisingly little about him. He knew long ago that you were the emperor’s son.”

  Oguna’s hands froze involuntarily in the middle of tying his belt.

  “Prince Oh-usu most certainly investigated your origins, probably much earlier than anyone else. And he employed you in his service, even though he knew. He continued to exploit you as his shadow for his own advantage.”

  “That’s a lie!” Oguna cried.

  “It’s the truth. I too was sent to investigate, and I can recognize others who do the same work as me.”

  “You’re just saying that to alienate me from the prince,” Oguna said.

  Sukune shrugged. “How I wish you would see reality. The emperor does not have a monopoly on using lies and deception. Anyone who lives in his palace must be hiding something, and Prince Oh-usu is a badger from
the same den.”

  Oguna stalked out of the tent without uttering another word. Sukune, he realized, was a dangerous man. His soft, low voice slipped insinuatingly into the ears like poison. If Oguna were not careful, he would start believing every word Sukune said.

  Oguna was about to break into a run when he suddenly realized that he had thrown aside the Sword with his armor. Although he had decided to take nothing with him, he hesitated, recalling what Princess Momoso had told him. “Wear this at all times,” she had insisted as she pressed the Sword into his hands. “Keep it with you night and day. It is yours and yours alone. If you do not take care of it, something evil will happen.”

  Just as he turned back toward the tent, he heard a muffled shriek from within. It was Sukune. Startled, Oguna rushed inside and saw Sukune staring blankly, his face pale and his right hand cradled in his left.

  “Did you touch the Sword?” Oguna asked sharply. Sukune’s eyes rolled back in his head and he looked as though he were unable to speak. Oguna walked over, retrieved the Sword, and thrust it in his belt. “No one but me should ever lay a hand on it. Remember that.”

  “Th-that … sword … it … it … can’t be …” Sukune stammered, finally finding his voice. His eyes were filled with dread. Oguna merely looked at him, then left the tent without answering. This was the first time he had ever seen Sukune regard him with something other than contempt.

  TOO LATE, Oguna realized that he was not dressed for the weather. A cold wind had begun to blow and fallen leaves floated in brown clumps at the edge of the pond. Shrikes screeched in the distance. This was the season when people yearned for the warmth of a fire. The tread of approaching winter echoed on the wind, and the dreariness of withering and death lay heavily on field and forest.

  But still those fields and forests were Mino, and the sight of them brought Oguna joy. It made him happy just to know that the pond, the island, and the bridge were still there. Although they seemed somewhat smaller than he remembered, they were just as dear. From close up, he could see that the island was more carefully tended than the first time he had seen it. Across the bridge, orderly trees grew on the bank and stone steps wound up through them to an arbor at the top of the small hill. A maple branch, its leaves crimson, stretched out over an elegant roof supported on round posts. Oguna had almost forgotten why he had come. Running up the stairs, he looked around the arbor and thought that he must have arrived first. But he was wrong. Prince Oh-usu emerged soundlessly from behind one of the posts.