Find Me, page 8
“It’s stupid.” Ayame got up. “You don’t even care, do you?”
“About Robin?” Hiro shrugged. “He’s a bujin. We die, that’s what we do.”
“I get that you have nothing to live for, but don’t assume others’ lives worthless as well.” She went inside but couldn’t stand the odor and went upstairs.
In the dark bedroom, she opened the window and breathed through it. The whole house smelled of death.
She put the little wooden horse on her palm, stuck her hand out through the window, and let the steed ride in the snow. She’d been doing that when she heard her lord outside and looked down, sticking her head out the window.
Robin stood tall in his red-breasted armor, and for a moment she thought he was healed—he looked better.
Lord Kyuzo stood facing him in his simple robe, his hand on his hilt. He smiled at his bujin as snow fell on his dark crown. Robin didn’t have his helmet on.
Wraith circled behind Robin, as quiet as a shadow.
Lord Kyuzo took a step back, and his blade hissed out of its wooden sheath. Robin did the same and swung, wild and heavy. Although the lord could have simply evaded, he parried instead, making Robin chuckle.
“Almost had you there, my lord.” His breath steamed.
“Yes, you did.”
Another cross of the blades and Ayame realized her lord was indulging Robin. Wraith moved with Robin, keeping himself always right behind. On his last swing, Robin dropped his blade, and plunged to his knees.
Lord Kyuzo picked up his sword and extended it to Robin. “Here, brother.”
With much effort, Robin lifted his arm, and as his grip closed around the hilt, Wraith’s blade glinted down—no sound, just a faint trailing light.
“Journey well, brother,” Lord Kyuzo said. “And lookout for the Ono. I shall be sending the whole lot after you.”
Robin’s head rolled off his shoulders like a thing he’d been holding, and dropped, but he didn’t let go of his sword and died with it in his hand—a worthy end for a warrior.
When Ayame went downstairs, her lord was alone and drinking. Sora and Wraith were right outside the door. She could hear them speaking but couldn’t make out the words for they were nearly whispering.
She sat down by her lord and poured wine for him.
“I sent them to have Robin cremated,” he said, turning the cup in his hand. “As soon as they return, we’re leaving this wretched city. Whenever I come here, nothing but death greets me.”
“I’m sorry for your loss.” She slid her hand under his long black hair spilling down his back and caressed his nape.
“Yeah, it’s my loss, and his gain. He’s better off now.”
That was what people said in Nara, but all it did was remind Ayame of the pitiful state of the in-between. She was beginning to believe that the Sun Goddess left because she was disappointed with the immortals. They had eternal life without suffering but couldn’t fulfill the single duty they had. Each immortal was tasked with one thing, and many had to neglect their duty for the in-between to unravel the way Ayame had seen it.
“Master Grey will know to cremate him with twelve mon,” she thought out loud.
“I had a dream that the ferrymen had inflated their prices to twelve coins,” he said, lifting his gaze from the cup he’d been staring at. “It was precisely twelve and every time you say it, it reminds me of the dream. You were there too. You’d followed me to the in-between.”
“I’d follow you anywhere.” She leaned into him, and he embraced her. They eased each other’s pain.
Ayame heard the beating of hooves outside. No doubt he had as well. But a visit from the police was expected as the Ishii had been making a ruckus threatening imperial physicians, and one of them was being cremated because someone had drawn their blade, breaking the rules.
“Curse them all,” he whispered, letting her go.
Sora rushed in, his fair face paler than usual. “Father,” he whispered. “The emperor.”
Lord Kyuzo bolted up and Ayame only managed to pick up her dropped jaw as the emperor stepped in, Prince Coral Moon behind him.
Imperial soldiers crowded in after him, upturning the place as if looking for a poison needle between the mats.
“Ah, get, get.” The emperor shooed off his guards. “Go outside and wait.”
“Emperor.” Lord Kyuzo knelt to bow, the first time Ayame had seen him touch his forehead to the ground.
Then realizing she was still sitting behind a table, Ayame bowed but banged her head on the said table. So, her forehead didn’t quite touch the ground.
There were no servants around. The keeper of the house and her attendants had fled at the sight of Robin’s tortured flesh. Sadness and pity panged Ayame’s heart, but there was no time to dwell on it. She busied herself wiping tables and scrambling to the back to find wine and put the kettle on for tea as the emperor and the prince seated themselves on cushions Sora fashioned for them. If the emperor was on a cushion, the lord had to be on the floor, and both Ishii lords followed decorum by kneeling some feet away from the emperor.
“I heard you lost a warrior. My condolences.” The emperor had a warm voice and the eyes of a man who smiled often. He was in his fifties perhaps and had a beard with silver strands that matched the shade of his long hair tied in a wound bun atop his head. He was in the same flowing blue garment Ayame saw him in the morning, and from up close, it was silk as light as air, lifting in the smallest breeze coming through the open door.
She served wine, then went to kneel in the corner and watched to see if anyone needed anything else.
“Yes, the Ono boy killed my bujin. Hashimoto attacked us en route as well. That, I would let go. It was a fair fight. But the boy used poison. It’s cowardly conduct, Emperor. I would like retribution.”
“You will wait. I will not condone fighting among my lords with the southern campaign on approach,” the emperor said. “What is this about you wanting to leave?” He tossed Sora’s letter on the floor between them.
Ayame got up, as quietly as she could manage, and scuttled along the wall to start a fire in the brazier. All the windows were open to chase out the stench of rot. The scent was gone, but the winter had settled in.
She couldn’t find the charcoal and started wood instead, which crackled nicely as the flames took hold. Then she crawled about, sliding the windows closed. The water boiled, so she went to steep tea, the aroma of herbs filling the air immediately as she poured hot water into the pot. All the while, the men talked.
“Ishii loyalty has always been and will forever be to the Ryu,” Kyuzo-dono said. “I shall ride with my emperor in the spring. But let me return to Yukiyama now and ready my men. The northern roads will become impassable soon, and as fine as your city is, Emperor, I don’t want to spend the winter idling here.”
The emperor considered it for a moment, then said, “All right, you may go. But Sora will stay.”
Ayame couldn’t read her lord’s expression, but Sora’s face was far less controlled.
“Why?” the young lord burst out.
Kyuzo-dono put a hand on Sora’s knee, a gentle tap to remind him to control himself. Ayame was yet to find out if Prince Coral Moon spoke at all.
“Ah…” With a deep sigh, the emperor turned to Sora. “I cared for your mother, Sora. And now, at old age, I miss her. She was an honest woman, and you remind me much of her. It was a mistake sending her away. As soon as I heard you set Kyuzo-dono’s lawn on fire, I knew you were mine.”
The little fire Ayame had been tending to flared at the emperor’s gesture. It caught her by surprise, and she jumped back with a yelp. Unfortunate reaction, as it angered her lord. The fury and contempt toward the emperor was now plain on his face that had been so guarded a moment ago.
“Are you all right?” he asked her.
“It’s fine, my lord.”
Oblivious to how much he was hated by both Ishii lords just then, the emperor continued with a smile, “You are my heir, Sora. And I will announce you as a crown prince in two days, when the celestial bodies align for an auspicious hour. I’m setting my affairs in order, and I mean to leave you a unified Nara.”
“I don’t want it!” Sora yelled like a child. “I’m going home with my father.”
“This is your home, and I am your father. You will obey me.”
“What?” Lord Kyuzo said, forgoing all etiquette. “What are you going on about, Blue Dragon?”
“I’m passing my throne to my son, as is my right.”
“No, you’re not.”
“Kyuzo,” the emperor warned, “you are about to be insolent.”
Had Lord Kyuzo had his armor on, his face and attire would have been the same color. Flushed with anger, he was trying to control his temper, breathing through gritted teeth, which made a hissing sound.
Ayame had been holding a cup, she realized, as it dropped on the floor and rolled. She didn’t bother retrieving it. Too stunned, the feeling had gone out of her limbs.
“Had that been your intention, why let me bring him here so far away from home with so few men? You realize you tie a noose around his neck?” The lord managed to speak in an even tone.
“Explain yourself, Kyuzo. This is his home, my power base. Sunlit City is impenetrable.”
“You think you control this city?” Lord Kyuzo said, rubbing his temples. “Crown Coral Moon, Emperor. Let him rein in Hissing Blade. The sorcerer is above Sora’s capacity to handle, I promise you that. If you cared for Tamaki, you will care for her son and not burden him with a weight he cannot hope to lift.”
“Hissing Blade will accept my decision, as you will. In the meantime, Sora will stay. Should you try to take my son away from me, I warn you that I shall find the act treasonous. Instead of defying, Kyuzo, try and oblige your emperor. It is your duty, after all.”
Sora resented the emperor. “You’re a damned—”
Kyuzo-dono struck him across the face before he could offend the emperor. Sora held his mouth and Ayame thought he might bawl.
The emperor rose, and Coral Moon followed suit. “Bring my boy to me before you leave, Kyuzo-dono.”
“Will you please hold off the announcement and give me permission to bring my men here,” Kyuzo-dono asked. “It won’t go over smoothly, Emperor. I have to control the city and defend it if I must. It’s for your own sake.” His amber eyes trained on the emperor, unflinching.
“Kyuzo, last warning.” The emperor wagged his finger at the lord. “Stop insulting my brother’s honor. It insults me as well. Prince Hissing Blade will comply with my decision, as he always has.”
“Fine,” Lord Kyuzo snapped. “What about the other lords then? Do you suppose they will gladly accept an Ishii raised emperor? They don’t want me anywhere near the throne. There’s bound to be pushback, Emperor. Let me defend the city. Let me serve you. I have no cause to usurp the Ryu. Please consider it.”
The emperor paused by the door, stroking his beard. “I could see how some houses would have their loincloths bunched up. Come with me, Kyuzo. We’ll talk it on more.”
“May I have a word with Sora?”
“By all means, but don’t have your emperor waiting out in the cold.” He stepped out and Coral Moon shadowed.
“Father, he’s a clown!” Sora hissed.
Lord Kyuzo pulled him by the nape and whispered, “If the clown is making it public, you must accept, son. Otherwise, you’ll always have a target on your back. Hissing Blade will hunt you down to the ends of the earth, you hear? The best way to deal with him is to get rid of him as the crown prince.”
“I don’t want it!” Sora cried. “I’m leaving. I’m going to run a martial arts school in the country. That’s what I’m doing.”
“Fine then, do as you want. Let me deal with Hissing Blade first, all right?” He pulled him closer and breathed into his ear, “Let me kill the bastard, then live as you want. But play along for a while. I need the Ishii here, you hear?”
“You promise?”
“It’s a grand promise, son. But I’ll try.”
Softened by the words of his true father, Sora nodded.
“Kyuzo!” the emperor hollered from beyond the door.
Before the lord stepped out, he turned and looked at Ayame. “Look after him till I return.”
“Of course, my lord.” Ayame was incredibly upset, but it wasn’t with her lord but the fool hollering outside. “Will you wait a breath?” she asked her lord, and ran upstairs without letting him refuse. She knew he would wait.
In the bedroom she shared with her lord, Ayame tossed her belongings in the dark to find the shinigami blade.
“Ayame?” Lord Kyuzo called.
“Coming!” She fluttered down the stairs, the blade in her hand.
Downstairs, she held out the sword in both hands, bowing to her lord. “Take this and carry it with you. You returned with it. It’s for good fortune. It doesn’t frost, do you recall?”
Lord Kyuzo frowned, not wanting to exchange his own blade. But he caved to her, perhaps not wanting to leave the emperor waiting.
“Fine.” He left his own blade with Sora, and slid Ayame’s sword through his belt. “I’ll be back. Take care of him.”
“Yes, of course.”
She breathed a little easier as Lord Kyuzo stepped out into the night.
“What’s with the blade?” Sora said.
“Nothing,” Ayame said.
Spirits might travel unseen by humans, but to attack a physical being they must turn physical, therefore visible. Depending on their strength, a mortal weapon might not cut them, but a death god’s blade killed everything. In his fox, Puff could be undone by a hard punch, but it wasn’t so with all spirits. Ghouls were difficult and she couldn’t even fathom demons, yet all succumbed to the gods of death.
If Lord Kyuzo could see it, he could kill it—she was certain. And now that she’d given him an adequate weapon, she could bury her concern, as shallow as it was, and tend to Sora as she’d promised.
Wraith came in, his expression cold, but he sat by Sora and said, “If your place is here, so is mine. Don’t worry about it too much. I’ll protect you, always.”
ten
Loss of All
Shin, Lord Isamu’s son, came in drunk with his two bujin—Ayame had forgotten he even existed. Shin got himself a cushion and sat at the table by Sora. Ayame got up and busied herself with dusting cushions and wiping the floor with a damp towel. She was too upset to speak to strangers.
“Are the Ishii leaving?” Shin asked. “Father told me to leave with Lord Kyuzo.”
“No,” said Sora, who’d regained some composure. “We’re not leaving. Ah… is the celebration at the palace concluding?”
“No,” volunteered the youth enthusiastically, and described some dance numbers and the wonderment of ‘fireworks’—wholly impressed.
But for the exploding lights, it sounded like a fall festival at Yukiyama. Who cared? Certainly not Ayame.
She was a terrible cook, really. But presuming the dawn was coming in a few hours, she tried her hand at making a morning meal for the men who’d been up all night. The rest of the bujin came in as Ayame fiddled with the boiling pot.
“Ay, Priestess-san, move over,” Monarch said, taking over.
Puff came as well. “All good. The warrior was cremated with twelve coins. Jester has his ashes. Now, can we go home? This place is loud and awful.”
Ayame couldn’t explain the change of plans to Puff. She thanked Monarch instead and stepped out. Deep in the night still, it was chilly, but she needed the cold air. Some type of sickness, either from the pregnancy or her nerves, brewed in her gut. She was bent on the snow, breathing deep with her hands on her knees when she heard Wraith and scanned the dark alley for him. The fireworks had quieted some time ago, and the moon came through the break in the clouds and revealed three shapes murmuring across the street.
Besides Wraith, who was speaking, one was Jester, his bald head unmistakable, and the other looked to be Hiro—he was a scrawny one. Wraith had his hand on Jester’s shoulder and what he told the bujin was inaudible, but as he spoke to Hiro, his voice was clear.
“You can get out of the city, right?” Wraith asked.
“Yes, I can hire us a boat to cross the moat,” Hiro said.
“No.” That was Jester. “I need my horses.”
“Perhaps, not your horses, Jester, if the purpose is to be discreet,” said Hiro. “The stable master will realize Ishii horses are missing. But we can steal mounts from the Ryu police, and gear too, and cross the bridge as them.”
“Don’t they know the faces of their own?” Wraith asked.
“There are more than five thousand soldiers in the capital, Wraith, and they are mostly conscripts. They don’t know and they don’t care.”
“Right…” Wraith trailed off. “Hiro, this is important. You can pull this off?”
“In my sleep, Wraith. I know the city backward and upside down.”
“Right.” Wraith handed a pouch to Jester. “My lord’s seal.”
“Keep it, brother.” He returned it. “In case shit happens, I don’t want to be the poor bastard who lost the Ishii seal. And if nothing happens, my word is bond. I mean, it’s Goodnight. What is he going to say? That I lie?”
“Right.” Wraith kept the pouch. They three bowed to each other. “Haul, brothers.”
“Got it, brother.” And as if Jester really had been a shadow, he and Hiro vanished into the night within a few steps.
“Eavesdrop much?” Wraith said as he passed by Ayame.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“What I am supposed to,” he said. “Protecting my lord.”
By lord, Ayame didn’t know if he meant Sora or Kyuzo-dono, but Jester hadn’t hesitated, and he had no obligation to Sora. She hoped whatever Wraith was doing was in the interest of her lord, and that was all. Whatever happened, she was glad to have come. She couldn’t imagine idling in Moonlight with Misaki whilst her lord was in this much trouble in hostile territory.
Inside, Monarch served food, and as Ayame shamelessly sat down to accept a bowl, she saw Master Grey handing out mon to the men.
