by Fuyumi Ono
"No, please. Not that."
Gekkei glanced at her with a pitying expression. "If I leave you here like this, the people will surely tear you apart in revenge. I will enter you upon the census of a small province. You will be stripped of your social standing and your place in the Registry of Wizards. You name will be changed. You will henceforth mingle with ordinary folk like everybody else."
With that, Gekkei turned to leave. Shoukei called after him, "Kill me also!" Her fingernails dug into the floor. "How am I supposed to go on living?" Gekkei did not turn around. Shoukei grasped the arm of the soldier. "This is too cruel!"
In one corner of the Youshun Palace complex was a castle called Godou. The lord of this castle was Hakuchi, or the "White Pheasant." Because Hakuchi sang only twice in its entire life, it was known as Ni-sei, or "two utterances." The first was, "The king is enthroned." The second was, "The king is dead." For that reason, it was also known as "the last word."
When Hakuchi of Godou castle uttered the last word, it fell dead. Gekkei cut off his feet.
The Imperial Seal itself contained a powerful charm. As one of the Imperial Regalia, only the king could use it. When the king died, the engravings on the seal smoothed over, guaranteeing its silence until a new king acceded to the throne. Without the Imperial Seal, neither laws nor proclamations had any authority. In its place, one of Hakuchi's feet would be used instead.
During the regency of the Eight Province Lords, a single document was sealed with the print of Hakuchi's foot. To wit, that the name of the Princess Son Shou be removed from the Registry of Wizards.
Some three years passed.
Chapter 3
At the top of the sky, there is an ocean called the Sea of Clouds. The Sea of Clouds divides the world into what is above and what is beneath. From below, you would never know the Sea of Clouds was there. If you stood on a high mountain peak, you might perceive that the translucent azure blue of the broad expanse of the heavens was in fact the lower depths of the Sea of Clouds. But very few are capable of ascending such heights.
Nevertheless, it is understood by almost all peoples that at the top of the sky is an ocean called the Sea of Clouds, and that it separates the heavens from the earth.
Within the Sea stretched a single band of clouds. The band of clouds flowed toward the east, glimmering in a rainbow of colors. This was the Zui-un.
On a paddy causeway on a farm on a ramshackle little hill, a young girl was cutting weeds. She took note of the clouds.
"Look, Keikei. It's the Zui-un." Rangyoku wiped the sweat from her brow and held up her hand, peering at the dazzling summer sky.
The child next to her, gathering up the cut grass, followed his older sister's gaze and looked with amazement. He saw a beautiful cloud stretched across the southern sky.
"That's the Zui-un?"
"It appears when a new king enters the Imperial Palace. Zui-un means the cloud that accompanies good tidings."
"Huh," said Keikei, staring at the sky. As sister and brother watched the sky, in ones and twos across the paddies, the others busily cutting the summer grass stopped and looked as well.
"A new king is coming?"
"Must be. That bad king we had before died and now the new ruler has arrived. From Mount Hou, the king will go to the palace in Gyouten."
The people didn't have much pity for the fallen king. The king had been a god to them, but all indications were that this king, now divine, would bless them with wiser governance.
"Mount Hou is the home of the goddesses. It is in the very center of the world."
"That's correct. You've studied well."
Keikei puffed out his chest a bit. "Yeah. Mount Hou is where the Taiho are born. The Taiho is a kirin. The kirin is the only one who can choose the new king." Keikei again leaned back and gazed up at the sky. "The goddess of Mount Hou is Heki . . . um, Hekki . . . . "
"Hekika Genkun."
"Right, right. Also known as Hekika Genkun Gyokuyou-sama. And in the middle of Mount Hou is Mount Ka, where the number one goddess lives, Seioubo, the Queen Mother of the West."
"Very good."
"Tentei lives on Mount Suu. He's the Lord God of the Heavens. He watches over everything and everybody in the world." The boy looked high into the sky. The Zui-un left a long trail as it headed to the east. He added, "It's the king that rules the kingdom. If the bad king is gone and a new king has come, does that mean we can go home, now?"
I hope so, Rangyoku thought, hugging her brother tightly. Like many of those standing on the paddy causeways, the sign of the Zui-un awakened hope within her heart.
The miserable rule of the Late Empress of Kei, Jokaku, had brought the kingdom to ruin. In her last days she had ordered the expulsion of all women. Rangyoku had no choice but to take her brother by the hand and start toward the border. Many young women were hidden by their families, or were dressed up like boys, or soldiers and government officials were bribed with large amounts of money. Her mother did her best to protect her, but she died in midwinter during a cold spell that engulfed Ei Province.
The kingdom in chaos, her mother dead, and she being driven from Kei, they resolved to flee to another kingdom across the sea. People like them, banished or escaping the kingdom's devastation and ruin, hurried down the roads. Midway through their journey, she observed the flag signaling a new king flying over the Rishi, the city's riboku shrine.
The Ouki, or Imperial Standard, was that of a dragon rising powerfully into the air against a black background and the constellation of a rising sun and moon.
Greatly relieved by the promise of peace and prosperity, Rangyoku again took her brother by the hand and set off for their hometown. But something strange was going on. When a new king was chosen, the Ryuuki, the flag of a flying dragon, was flown over the Rishi. The Ouki was raised when the king formally acceded to the throne. Rangyoku didn't recall seeing the Ryuuki. When she asked around, indeed, the Ryuuki had not been raised. Furthermore, some Rishi were flying the Ouki and some were not.
The old-timers were suspicious. If the rightful king had acceded to the throne, the natural calamities would have ceased. But they had not. To make matters worse, war broke out over whether this was the rightful king or not. Those living far from the capital had no way of knowing which side would win or which side should win.
Rumors abounded that the king was a pretender and that the true king had risen up against her. And then the raising of the Ryuuki. And the Zui-un stretching to the east. Undoubtedly, the true king had arrived.
Rangyoku watched as the tailing end of the Zui-un disappeared to the east. She said, "Hopefully, this king will bless our lives with good fortune."
All of those gathered on the paddy causeways bowed their heads and uttered the same prayer to the fleeting Zui-un.
The capital of the Kingdom of Kei, Gyouten. The city spreads out in terraces across the high and hilly land. In the western part of the city is the steep and soaring mountain. The mountain's summit pierces the clouds. This mountain, reaching to the Sea of Clouds and beyond, is called Mount Ryou'un, also known as Mount Gyouten. At its peak is the Imperial Palace. Kinpa Palace is the home of the king of the Kingdom of Kei, the Royal Kei.
If you could stand above the Sea of Clouds, Gyouten would be an island floating in the midst of an ocean. On the sloping cliffs of the towering, tiered peak, jutting out into the air, was a many-storied building that enclosed the entirety of Kinpa Palace.
A giant turtle set down at the western edge of Mount Gyouten (Gyouten Island, if you wish). This divine beast had borne the king back from Mount Hou. Its name was Genbu.
The Ministers of the Rikkan lined up along the harbor to greet the new king. They who lived in the world above knew it was Genbu whose flight left the trail across the Sea of Clouds, called the Zui-un by those who lived in the world below.
Under the watchful eyes of the ministers, Genbu extended his craggy neck to the strand. The new king stepped onto the shore and there greeted Chousai, the
Minister-in-Chief. A soft sigh followed as many of the people there, heads still bowed, sneaked peaks from under their brows.
Kei was a kingdom in chaos because the throne had so long been vacant. In particular, these past three generations had seen a succession of short-lived rulers, all of them women. Even the pretender that followed them had been a woman. And now, the new king as well.
Kaitatsu is a word unique to the people of Kei. A long time ago, a king ruled Kei for over three hundred years. His name was the Royal Tatsu. Kaitatsu means a nostalgia (kai) for King Tatsu. Toward the end of his reign, King Tatsu inflicted all manners of hardships on his people, but at least for three hundred years they had been governed peacefully and wisely. Kaitatsu reflected that longing for the enlightened rule of a long-lived king. This was the reason for the furtive sigh.
Enough of empresses. It'd be nice to have a king again.
This sentiment was voiced surreptitiously so that others would not hear, but those expressing it were not few in number and the sum of their reactions amounted to a rather public expression of dismay.
Nonetheless, that day the Imperial Standard was raised over the Rishi of Kei. In the Eastern Kingdom of Kei, a new monarch acceded to the throne.
The Era of the Royal Kei Youko, the Dynasty of Sekishi (the Red Child), had begun.
Part I
here is a mountain in the center of the world called Mount Hou. A goddess by the name of Gyokuyou governs that holy place. Because of the respect and affection held for Gyokuyou, many girls are named after her.
In the northwest quadrant of the world, at the eastern reaches of the Kingdom of Hou, in the province of Kei and the shire of Han, there was a girl named Gyokuyou.
"Gyokuyou!"
The cry carried far on the autumn breeze. The girl lifted her head from amidst the field of dry grass. She grimaced as she straightened her aching back, and she grimaced because she didn't much like the sound of the name.
She'd once had a beautiful name, Shoukei. Not some worn out, dime-a-dozen name like Gyokuyou.
Almost three years ago, stained with the blood of her mother and father, she was removed from the Imperial Palace and sent to the village of Shindou. Her once pearl-like skin was browned and freckled by the sun. Her chubby, peach-like cheeks had wasted away. The bones stood out in her fingers as did the sinews in her legs. The sun had bleached her dark blue hair an ashen gray. Even her violet eyes had lost their brilliance, turning a muddy purple.
"Gyokuyou! Where are you! Answer me!"
Hearing the shrill voice, Shoukei stood up. "I'm over here." She parted the stalks of maiden grass with her hands, showing herself.
She knew who that irritating voice belonged to in the moment she saw her face. It was Gobo.
"How long are you going to take harvesting the maiden grass? The other children are already headed back."
"I'm finishing up just now."
Gobo pushed her way through the tall grass. She took a look at the bundles of stalks that Shoukei had gathered and snorted. "Six bales, indeed. Pretty meager ones at that."
"But . . . . "
Gobo jumped down her throat as soon as the first word came out of her mouth. "No back talk from you. Who do you think you are?" She lowered her voice. "This isn't the palace, you know. You're just an orphan and don't you forget it."
As always, Shoukei bit her lip. No, she couldn't forget it for an instant. Gobo wouldn't let a day go by without casting an aspersion or two or three. She couldn't forget if she wanted to.
"How about you give it an honest effort for once? I don't think I need to remind you that if I let the cat out of the bag, the people of this village would have your head on a platter."
Shoukei held her tongue. Any reply would be met at once with the retort of that grating voice. "Okay," she said meekly.
"What's that?"
"Thank you for all you've done for me."
A sneer came to Gobo's lips. "Another six bales. Work till dinnertime if you have to. And if you're late, you go hungry."
"Yes."
The autumn sun was already low in the sky. Of course it would be impossible to gather six more bales of maiden grass before suppertime.
Gobo sniffed to herself and left, plowing back through the grass. Glancing briefly at Gobo's back, Shoukei grasped the handle of the sickle at her feet. Her hands were liberally nicked and scratched by the maiden grass, her fingers caked with mud. Shoukei had been brought to Kei Province and placed on the books of this remote mountain village. The story was that her parents had died and she had been sent to local rike, a kind of foster home for orphans and the aged from several of the surrounding towns. Gobo was the headmistress of the facility.
Besides Gobo, there were nine children and one old man. At first, Gobo and the others had been nice to her. But children got to talking about how their parents died. Much bitterness was directed against the dead king. Shoukei could not join in, could only hang her head and hold her tongue. When she was asked about her parents, she could not think of a good way to answer.
Moreover, having been born to wealth and power, she knew nothing of rural life. She had no servants. She had been suddenly thrown into an environment she had never seen before, where you tilled the earth by the sweat of your brow and sewed your own clothes with your own hands. She hardly knew her left hand from her right. Having lived such a cocooned life, it was hard getting used to the life of the orphanage. She found herself estranged from the others. She was so dumb, they said, she didn't even know how to use a hoe. She couldn't explain that she had never seen a hoe before, had never touched a hoe before
According to her current census records, Shoukei's "parents" had lived alone in a mountain forest not far from Shindou. They were fumin, itinerants who had quit their homesteads and were not attached to any township. Fumin were often gamblers, criminals, or recluses like her "parents." They had discreetly eked out a living in the mountains near Shindou as charcoal makers, drifters with no ties to the land or any landowner.
They had been executed.
Shoukei's real father, the Royal Hou Chuutatsu, had promulgated countless laws and edicts ordering that the fumin return to their lands of record. To reject one's obligations to the law was to reject the sanctuary of the law. Crime and corruption festered amongst the fumin. Their undisciplined lives undermined the upright citizenry and encouraged the criminal element. The king implored them again and again to return to their homesteads and resume their proper livelihoods. Those who did not could not expect to escape punishment.
Gekkei, the man who had inflicted this plight upon her, he had registered Shoukei on the census as the daughter of this couple. Their child, previously in the care of an orphanage in a faraway village, had supposedly been transferred here just before their deaths.
But Gobo had somehow seen through the fabrication. The girl entrusted to her orphanage was none other than Chuutatsu's supposedly dead daughter. One day she had said to Shoukei, "If this is indeed the case, then you must let me know all about it. This life must be so very difficult for you."
Shoukei had wept. A life spent growing food and raising animals was indeed a trying one.
"Just supposing that the princess herself was living way out here in the sticks, dressed in rags. She who was once known as the brightest gem in Hoso. The jewel in the crown."
Shoukei buried her face in her hands and Gobo continued on in her soothing, coaxing voice. "An acquaintance of mine happens to be a wealthy merchant in the capital of Kei Province. He deeply mourns the passing of our late king."
Shoukei was unable to hold back any longer. Her life could never be as it was before, but the promise of things improving even just a little, of being rescued from this grubby existence, enticed to her let down her guard.
"Oh, Gobo, please help me." She collapsed in tears. "Gekkei, the Marquis of Kei, he murdered my mother and father and abandoned me to this fate. He hates me."
"Just as I thought." But ice and steel were in her voice. Shouke
i raised her head in surprise. Gobo said, "You are that monster's daughter."
Shoukei could hear Gobo clenching her teeth and realized her mistake.
"He killed people like they were insects."
It was because people broke the laws, Shoukei wanted to retort, but too intimidated to speak, she swallowed her words.
"He killed my son. All because he felt sorry for a child going to the block and threw a stone at the executioner. For that alone, he was condemned and sentenced to death by that jackal."
"But . . . that was . . . . "
"So you think he should have been executed as well?"
Shoukei shook her head violently. "No, I didn't know anything about it. I didn't know anything about my father doing things like that."
In fact, Shoukei was completely in the dark as to what her father and mother had done. Sheltered within the heart of the palace, surrounded by wealth and fortune, she had assumed that the rest of the world was the same way. It wasn't until the soldiers had gathered in the city below the palace and turmoil had rent the air that it occurred to her that anyone might hate her father.
"You didn't know? You're asking me to believe that the royal princess had no idea what was going on inside the Imperial Court? The whole kingdom fills to the brim with angry protests and the laments for the dead and you don't hear a thing?"
"I honestly didn't know."
"You lived your shameless little life with no idea where the food came from to fill your dirty little mouth? From the people of this village, that's where from! Who, despite all the burdens laid upon their backs, kept their shoulders to the wheel and put in one honest day's work after another."
