by Fuyumi Ono
Youshou didn't finish the rest of the sentence. This traveler from Kei had no connection to Hou and certainly no connection to himself. Youshou knew better than to let his emotions get the better of him in such a situation. He simply shut his mouth to keep things under control.
"And yet?" Sei pressed gently. "Would it be rude of me to ask for more details? I came here bearing correspondence from the Empress. I cannot leave until I have delivered it."
Shouyou grasped his knees. "The Marquis is returning to Kei Province. His intention is to leave here for good."
"Which has the rest of you at loose ends."
"To say the least. No one else is qualified to govern Hou. And yet the Marquis orders me to make it so."
Four years had passed. The chaos was under control. The right people had been placed in the right positions. The Imperial Court was functioning as it should. Steps were being taken to provide help for the people. Goals were being accomplished. And if to end these accomplishments with an emphatic bit of punctuation, Gekkei broached the subject of a Chousai for the first time.
Youshou and the other enthusiastically agreed. Up till now, Gekkei had acted as the Chousai in all but name. Filling the position in name as well as reality—a leader to lead this leaderless regime—would be far more appropriate. Or so all the ministers believed. Instead, Gekkei nominated Shouyou.
"The Marquis ordered me to become Chousai. Why should it be anyone but him? No one agreed with that decision. But we suppressed our outrage and did what he wanted. We had assumed—wrongly—that the Marquis was at last prepared to sit upon the throne."
Up till then, Shouyou and his colleagues had repeatedly entreated Gekkei to fill the empty throne. The Royal Kyou of the neighboring Kingdom of Kyou had recommended the same. But Gekkei soundly rejected the proposition. Now it seemed that he had at last changed his mind.
"If the Chousai was supposed to run the kingdom, then the Marquis ought to be doing so instead. But if he was to recommend someone like myself to be the Chousai, then I believed he must take the higher position for himself. He never explicitly denied that he might do so. Yet today, out of the blue, he stated he was leaving the capital and returning to Kei Province!"
Gekkei should have understood the extent to which the other ministers had misunderstood his recommendation. But he never once sought to correct those mistaken assumptions. When he thought about it now, Gekkei must have known this all along. Had the ministers grasped what was going on, they never would have agreed to appoint Shouyou Chousai.
He had not only failed to correct these mistaken beliefs, but from the start he had done his best—by omission—to foster them.
"He says that he is a Province Lord, not an Imperial minister, and his job is to govern his province, not the kingdom. While it may have been necessary to trespass upon that authority in order to calm the chaos, it would be impermissible for him, as a Province Lord, to trespass upon that authority in order to rule the kingdom. He's still sticking to that same old argument!"
Tears of rage and disappointment fell on the hands grasping his knees. Shouyou knew that he could not fill Gekkei's shoes. Gekkei had slain Chuutatsu and stopped the slaughter. The faith of the ministers and the people in him was absolute. To retreat to his province, even after appointing Shouyou Chousai—both the people and the government officials needed someone to bind them together. All the more so there being no king to keep the kingdom from sliding into oblivion.
Shouyou couldn't deny the expectation that this was something only Gekkei could do, that they needed him to do. The same year they had struck down Chuutatsu, he had executed at least three-hundred thousands of his subjects, perversely spurred on by the shitsudou afflicting Hourin. Even then, Shouyou and his colleagues had hemmed and hawed. They pitied the people, they lamented the state of the Kingdom, but couldn't muster the courage to mention the word "regicide."
Gekkei was the only one who voiced the possibility, who took action. They saw nothing wrong in placing their faith and expectations in him. They believed that he would continue to lead them as he had during the insurrection. As far as the people were concerned, no matter what became of the Kingdom after this, they were sure that it was Gekkei who had saved them.
Nevertheless, Gekkei seemed determined to turn all that faith and all those expectations into futility.
Shouyou couldn't understand why he'd wallowed in such pain and misery up to now. Looking back on it now, when Gekkei returned to his palace in Kei Province following the uprising, his intentions had been clear. When he'd returned to the Imperial Palace in response to their entreaties, he'd declared he had no inclination of taking on any official Imperial position, and was there only to offer advice. He had not given up the title of Province Lord, nor shown the slightest interest in searching out a replacement.
In retrospect, there was no denying that Gekkei was a Province Lord through and through. Despite making his resolution on that matter clear, Shouyou and his colleagues had shut their eyes and covered their ears. Their failure to comprehend the true nature of the situation was their own.
He could grasp all this with his head. But not in his heart. He felt betrayed, tossed aside like a spurned lover. No matter how irrational his bitterness and anger, he could not be the only one who felt that way. In fact, when Gekkei had uttered those remarks at the Privy Council, the entire hall had all but frozen over. After the undersecretary came to fetch Gekkei away, the place had erupted into wails of grief and outbursts of verbal abuse.
Gekkei had probably returned to the Gaiden. The remaining ministers would no doubt try to call him back. And none of their words would touch his heart—
With a start, Shouyou lifted his head. Flustered, his turned and found the Kei general gazing calmly at the courtyard. "I beg your pardon," Shouyou hastily apologized. "I drifted off there for a bit."
Sei looked at him and smiled. "What was that?"
"Nothing," Shouyou responded in a choked voice.
Sei nodded. "In any case, I seemed to have barged in at a quite inopportune time. I'm sorry for raising such a ruckus."
"Oh, no, nothing of the sort. I've been the one—"
"Then I guess the Chousai is the person to whom I should deliver this letter. Her Highness assumed that Hou was being governed by the Marquis, so its contents may not be entirely to your liking. But I would appreciate it if you would accept this on behalf of the Marquis."
Sei held out the letter. Shouyou was fit to be tied. "But—"
"Please feel free to pass it on to the Marquis. I'm sure Her Highness would not object."
Shouyou hesitated, but finally took the letter.
"I do not wish to impose on you further," Sei continued, "but I have another letter for the Chousai. Again, you might find its contents disagreeable, but I hope you would accept it."
"Not to be rude, but the substance of this letter?"
"It is from a lady of the Kei Imperial Court. It was intended for the Marquis as well. It would seem logical at the juncture to leave it in your hands. I know how presumptuous this may sound, but Her Highness wished both her letter and that of the court lady to be treated with equal gravity."
Shouyou gaped at him. Never before had a minister of Hou ever received a communiqué from the Royal Kei, not to mention a letter from any lady of the Kei Imperial Court.
"General Sei, I—"
Sei calmly interrupted him. "The name of this court lady is Son Shou."
For a long moment, Shouyou couldn't place the name. He was about to ask who Son Shou was when it suddenly came to him: Chuutatsu's daughter, the Princess Royal Shoukei, who had been banished from the Imperial Palace. Shouyou felt his knees go weak from the shock.
"Shoukei-sama—she is living in Kei?"
"Yes." The general answered with a knowing smile that communicated his comprehension of the circumstances surrounding Shoukei. "I know I have placed all these burdens on your shoulders, but I would appreciate it if you could see that they are properly carried out."
S
ei rose from his chair and bowed. Shouyou gripped the letters in both hands. "General Sei, will you be returning to Kei at once?"
"I have carried out my orders. Having visited Youshun Palace in this informal capacity and delivered those letters, my mission has been completed. I've instructed the officers traveling with me to avail to take the opportunity to inform themselves about the condition of the kingdom, after which we will sojourn in the city below."
"If you are not in too much of a hurry, I would ask that you delay your departure for a while. I really must insist that you meet with the Marquis."
"But—"
"It was the Marquis who had the most concern for Shoukei's welfare. I'll go get him. Please."
The general agreed and Shouyou frantically called for the undersecretary.
Chapter 4
The Privy Council had already broken up. Gekkei was returning to his official residence. He was intercepted by the undersecretary, who informed him that Shouyuu desperately wished Gekkei to join him.
Gekkei didn't see the point in meeting with a foreign emissary at this juncture, but didn't think it wise to so openly disrespect a representative of the Kingdom of Kei.
When he entered the palace annex, the emissary and Shouyuu were in the courtyard. As soon as Shouyuu caught sight of him, he uttered the last name on earth Gekkei expected to hear. One that made his senses reel.
"Marquis, it's about Shoukei—"
Almost on their own, his feet picked up the pace. Rushing to Shouyuu's side, he was about to demand what this was about, when he caught himself and bowed to the emissary instead.
"I apologize for my abrupt manner earlier."
"Don't worry about it. I doubtless spoke out of turn myself, not knowing the true state of affairs here."
"Then Shoukei-sama is residing in Kei?" Gekkei looked back and forth between the two men.
Shouyuu handed him a letter. "It is from Shoukei-sama."
Gekkei waved his hand, signaling his reluctance to accept it. He was even more determined than the Chousai to have nothing to do with it. He turned to the general from Kei. "The Princess Royal was given over to the custody of the Kingdom of Kyou. Though I did hear that she had absconded."
"Yes. She lives in Kei, where she works as a royal scribe."
"Royal scribe," Gekkei murmured. The royal scribe worked in the Imperial Palace, in the proximity of the Empress, and helped her carry out her official duties—the lowest rank of civil servant who worked in that capacity.
"Yes," Sei confirmed, his voice equally soft. "Her Highness appointed her a royal scribe. Yet Shoukei is not a citizen of Kei. Her koseki still resides in Hou. We would like to request that her koseki be transferred to Kei."
Hearing Shoukei referred to in such a familiar manner, Gekkei turned to Sei. "General Sei, do you know Shoukei-sama?"
"Yes," Sei said, again with that knowing smile. "I hate to have to admit it, but not much time has passed since the coronation of the Royal Kei. The countryside has not been entirely pacified. During one particular incident, Shoukei proved herself quite useful."
"Shoukei helped the general?"
"Yes. Equally aware of the meritorious nature of her service, Her Highness strongly recommended that she be appointed a royal scribe. Shoukei is already listed upon the Registry of Wizards in Kei. However, because of the importance of maintaining cordial relations with Hou and Kyou, and the uncertain location of her permanent records, Shoukei's position cannot be made official, nor can she be promoted."
Gekkei took a deep breath. This girl had once been Chuutatsu's jewel in the crown, the only object of his love and affection. Protected in the depths of the Imperial Palace, insulated from the smell of the slaughter and the cries of the people, she was given everything she wanted on a silver platter.
After Chuutatsu was assassinated, her name was purged from the Registry of Wizards and she was exiled to a bleak village in Kei Province.
But her parentage was subsequently uncovered. The anger and bitterness of the villagers towards Chuutatsu could be quelled only by revenge. Gekkei sent to Kyou in order to keep her from being torn limb from limb. Resenting her treatment there, Shoukei had run away. That was the last he'd heard of her.
"After she fled Kyou, we heard rumors of jewelry being stolen from the Imperial Repository. Perhaps the general is better informed about the truth of the situation."
"What you have been told is true. Unless and until we are granted a pardon by the Royal Kyou, Shoukei cannot officially become a civil servant of Kei."
"And knowing all this, the Royal Kei nevertheless invited Shoukei-sama into the Imperial Palace?"
When the news came that Shoukei had gone on the lam, Gekkei had been deeply disappointed. He had to conclude that—regardless of whether she'd even been cognizant of the privileged life she'd been born to—in the end, she hadn't grasped the true nature of the duty that she carried on her shoulders.
The general smiled, seemingly able to divine the reason for Gekkei's consternation. "People can change. Thankfully."
"But of course," Gekkei answered shortly. Next to him, Shouyou was still holding out the letter. Gekkei went to take it, then reconsidered. "If that letter is intended for the ruler of Hou, then I cannot accept it."
"But—" Shouyou started to say.
Instead, Sei said, "Perhaps you should hang on to it for the time being. It was my decision to give to you in the first place."
Shouyou answered with a dejected nod and lowered his arm. Gekkei glanced at Sei. "Will the general be staying with us for a while, perhaps?"
"We will stay in Hoso. My mission is complete, but my colleagues still have work to do."
"The Imperial guest quarters could be made available," Gekkei said, turning to Shouyou.
Sei raised his hand. "No, that is not necessary. Her Highness knows that Hou is in dire straits and asked us not to place any further demands on the Imperial treasury."
"I see," Gekkei said.
Even though this was an informal visit, having an emissary from another kingdom take a room an inn in the capital seemed excessively disrespectful.
At the same time, with the Royal Hou no longer with them, large sections of the Imperial Palace had been shuttered. After cleaning up the vestiges of the revolution and putting things in order, buildings unrelated to government functions were locked up. Courtesy dictated that the personal emissary of another kingdom should be housed at the guest palace. But it hadn't been used in a long time, and there wasn't nearly enough time to get it ready.
"In that case, if you wouldn't mind, I would ask you to stay at my official resident as my personal guest. I understand the general had intended to visit with me in the first place. Though I cannot accept the Royal Kei's personal correspondence, it would be unconscionable of me to allow you to leave as things stand right now. The trappings are somewhat spartan, though."
Shouyou added, "We would really appreciate it."
The general smiled. "Well, then. If it's not an imposition, I shall take you up on the offer. But seeing that my colleagues have other business to take care of, please allow them to stay in Hoso."
Chapter 5
When Gekkei stayed at Youshun Palace, he used a manse tucked away in a corner of the Seishin. It was close to the Sea of Clouds, the smallest building in the compound. It would have otherwise made for cramped quarters, but as he kept his retinue to a bare minimum, it was quiet and airy.
"I apologize for the plainness of the accommodations," Gekkei said to Sei, as he escorted him through the twilight.
This wasn't false humility. From the front gate through the building to the patio, there wasn't a single scroll or wall hanging to be seen. Only the bare necessities. Gekkei had informed the few servants that a guest would be arriving, so some flowers had been arranged, lanterns lit, and wine and tea set out. Despite the bleak surroundings, the results were not off-putting.
"I heard from the Chousai that you were preparing to vacate the premises. Such preparations are
underway, I take it?"
Gekkei offered Sei one of the chairs on the patio overlooking the garden. "Yes, but this was never intended to be anything but temporary quarters."
"Making the round trip from here to Kei Province must be a considerable inconvenience."
"Not at all," Gekkei said with a thin smile. He poured Sei a cup of tea. The evening breeze carried with it the scent of a nearby lake. The moon rising in the purple sky skimmed the roof of the patio.
"It's not that far riding a kijuu over the Sea of Clouds. The prime minister and the Rikkan hold down the fort when I'm gone, but it is a lot to impose on them.
Illustration
"And yet you have no desire to rule the kingdom."
Gekkei's hand froze as he poured the tea. "Naturally. I have trampled the Mandate of Heaven. I could not possibly assume a throne that was not rightfully given me."
"If that is true for you, then it would be just as true for everyone else who would rule in your stead. If you reject this calling and leave the Imperial Palace behind, wouldn't the ministers—beginning with the Chousai—have to follow suit? The Kingdom of Hou would soon fall apart."
Gekkei smiled bitterly. "So the general wishes me to become a usurper as well?"
"When you put it that way, perhaps I do. But I think you're going overboard. You've put the Chousai in a real bind. He doesn't believe he can hold things together. I have the feeling he's exaggerating just like you. But the fact remains that if you abandon the Palace because of your crimes, you are more or less implying that those you leave behind are blind to theirs. Neither your equally guilty colleagues nor the people you serve seem to agree with that assessment."
Gekkei offered Sei the tea. "I hadn't thought about it in exactly those terms, but you may have a point. In any case, I don't see the ministers fleeing the capital in significant numbers. Which is why, as the ringleader, I can take the fault all upon my own head. As the original guilty party, that should be my responsibility."
"I suppose so." Sei tilted his head to the side. "While I can't argue with your logic, neither do I agree with it. Your argument—that you led the insurrection and so you bear the original sin—doesn't sit right with me."
