Mirror Sword and Shadow Prince Page 6

  Toko still did not respond.

  “You were right. I can’t do anything without you,” Oguna said. “What people say about me is true. So I’ve got to see whether I can take care of myself without someone there to protect me. Whether I like it or not, someday I’ll be on my own. I need to try before that happens, right?”

  Still buried under the covers, Toko burst into loud sobs. Like a small child lacking the words to protest, she wept, heartbroken, and the noise carried so far that the guests assembled at the celebration looked up in surprise. No matter what Oguna said, she did not stop crying. Not knowing what else to do, he returned to the gathering.

  “Lady Toko?” the prince asked. Oguna nodded. “Don’t make her cry. You aren’t going about it the right way. Girls don’t respond to logic.”

  “But Toko’s special. I want to cry myself.”

  “Don’t even consider it. This is your party.”

  Oguna sighed. “Next to snakes and lightning,” he confessed, “the thing I fear most is making Toko cry.”

  “Now that I can understand,” the prince nodded.

  THE NEXT DAY when Oguna went into the stables to load up his horse, he found Toko leaning against a post and wearing only one shoe. He was surprised, for it was a long way to hop on one foot. When he went over to her, she pushed a bundle toward him. “Here.” Unwrapping it, he found a brand-new white jacket. “I sewed it myself. I didn’t have anything else to do. The sleeves aren’t sewn on very well, but please take it,” she said.

  Her eyes were red, like those of the dancers who rimmed their eyes with rouge on festival days. Whether she had been sewing or crying, it was clear that she had been up all night.

  “This’ll be useful. Thanks.” The stitches were long and loose, but Oguna was not so foolish as to mention that.

  “When are you coming back?”

  He shifted uncomfortably. It would have been simple to say that he’d be back soon, but he did not want to console her with lies—not Toko. Seeing that he could not answer, she said, “Make sure you come back, no matter what. I’m not going into that shrine until you do. I’ll wait right here. I won’t become a woman until we see each other again. I promise. I’ll be waiting for you the whole time, so please come back.”

  Oguna, who knew that Toko hated empty promises, said solemnly, “All right. I will. I’ll come back to see you.” Then he relaxed and smiled. “And when I do, I bet I’ll be stronger. I’ll show you that you don’t have to worry about me anymore.”

  Toko looked doubtful. “I have a feeling that I’ll never be able to stop worrying about you. But, yes, I bet you will be stronger. Just remember, Oguna, if being with the prince isn’t what you hoped, come back, even if you’ve just left. All right?”

  Although this last comment was a little disappointing, he smiled and said, “I promise to come back.”

  LADY AKARU finished preparing for the journey and quietly left her room. She wanted to take one last look at her home, to imprint on her mind forever the look of the familiar hall where she had grown up. She was dressed in her finest, with strings of jade and agate woven through her hair and clasped around her neck and slender wrists. When she walked, the tiny beads brushed together, whispering, and the sound seemed to cut her off from this place in which she had once run barefoot. Yesterday she had gone alone to visit the high priestess in the mountain shrine and receive her final instructions as a Tachibana woman. She thought over what she had been told with a twinge of sadness at leaving her carefree childhood behind.

  Lost in thought, she rounded a corner of the walkway that opened onto the garden and then stopped in surprise. Prince Oh-usu was standing there, as if he had been waiting for some time. He must have crossed through the garden to get there. A shock ran through her to the tips of her fingers and toes. She had not seen the prince this close since the day they had gone to the pond. In fact, she had carefully avoided him. But this was so sudden and unexpected that there was no way to escape.

  Lady Akaru paused for an instant, shaken, but then pulled herself together. Calm and gentle by nature, she quickly regained her composure and bowed her head in acknowledgment as politeness demanded. She resumed walking and was gliding past him when he spoke.

  “Won’t you even talk to me?” he asked. “Once you step into that palanquin, you belong to the emperor. We’ll never have the opportunity to speak like this again. This is our last chance.”

  At the sound of his voice, her heart leapt violently. She was finding it hard to breathe with her tightly cinched sash, and her voice trembled slightly. “What do we have to talk about? There’s nothing to be said.”

  “Then at least give me your hand.”

  “No!” She jerked away as if she had been burned. “Don’t do this! You must be true to your mission.”

  “My father already has three wives. And I can’t even guess how many concubines of lower rank. You must know that by virtue of his nature and rank, he’s not the type of man to love one woman. Not even my mother, who was his first wife. I can see the hurt that will befall you once you have been presented to my father. And I can’t bear that.”

  Lady Akaru struggled to smile. “But you’re just the same. One day you’ll be the emperor. You too will stand in his position, and you too will take many wives to rule over even greater territory.”

  The prince looked offended. “But I’m still young. I’ve never had a woman, and having met you, I never intend to have any other. If I gave up my right to succession, would you believe that my feelings for you are sincere? Would you come with me?”

  “Please don’t. You mustn’t say such things. Not when I’ve made up my mind to watch you, even if from the shadows, as you rise to become the next emperor.”

  He gazed at her earnestly as if searching for even a fragment of hope in her eyes. “Once you’re married, you won’t think that way anymore. You don’t know what it’s like in my father’s palace. Each wife sees the other wives and their children as bitter rivals. And if … if you should have a child, you too will wish that I had never been born.”

  Lady Akaru shook her head sadly. “How can you believe that? No matter what happens, I could never forget you. Never.”

  “If that’s true, then why—” he burst out, but she cut him off.

  “A priestess can only serve one god in her lifetime,” she said quickly. “Please. Think of me as that. Although I marry as a woman, I have trained for many years as a priestess. My duty to serve the emperor transcends my personal wishes. I am very glad that I met you. But from this point onward, please let me walk the path destined for me in peace.”

  Oh-usu’s outstretched arm fell limply to his side. In all his young life, never had he hoped so greatly nor been so firmly refused. “How cruel you are,” he said roughly. “If that was your intention, then it would have been better had you never smiled at me.”

  You have no idea how cruel this is for me as well, she thought, but she kept these words inside and stood head bowed, her hands gripping her sleeves. And as she stood there, the prince turned away, squared his shoulders, and stalked off. Although she knew it was for the better, she could not keep back her tears.

  SNOW FROM A SPRING flurry a few days earlier had already melted and the earth was dark and fragrant, making the grass appear even greener. The buds on the trees were red and swollen, as if about to burst open any minute. It was almost March, the month in which the cherry trees blossomed, when the procession bore Lady Akaru away to the capital, carrying with it the grief they all felt at parting. Lining the road to bid her farewell, the people of Mino spoke of celebration, but their feelings were mixed.

  The chief riding along behind the palanquin and the prince riding in front gazed ahead grimly as they swayed atop their horses. This made it hard for Oguna, who was riding beside the chief, to search the crowd for a glimpse of Toko’s face. She had promised to come and see him off, but she was not there when they left the hall. Perhaps she was hiding under the covers again …

&nbs
p; The procession moved ahead and the crowd, arms waving, receded behind. The road curved and Oguna turned for one last look before they passed out of sight. Looking up at the hall, he finally saw Toko. She had climbed through the ventilation hole like they had done on the day of the tournament and was sitting on the roof. The thought of how she would get down with her foot still injured made him wince.

  When she saw that he was looking, she began to wave a long, thin cloth, perhaps one of their mother’s scarves. It fluttered gracefully in the air, but Toko looked as if she would fall off the roof any minute. Though he could not have caught her even if she fell, he reached forward without thinking.

  “Oguna—!” the chief began, but before he could finish Oguna had fallen off his horse and had to be plucked from the ground by a servant.

  chapter

  two

  THE SHADOW

  PRINCE

  The Shadow Prince

  “THEY’RE so alike!”

  “He’s adorable! He looks just like His Highness when he was younger.”

  “Let me see!”

  No sooner had Oguna arrived at the prince’s mansion than he was surround-ed by women, who vied for a chance to look at him. Their sumptuous robes would have been reserved for special occasions in Mino.

  It had taken the procession five days to traverse the mountains. According to the prince, five days by palanquin was not a long journey. They could have reached the capital in half the time on a swift horse. But to Oguna, who had never set foot outside Mino before and had only a vague idea of Toyoashihara’s size, the distance seemed immense. The land, the buildings, the roads, the people—everything in the capital was so foreign it made home seem even farther away. The mansion the prince pointed out to him as his father’s living quarters was astonishing, but even more amazing was the fact that the magnificent buildings and gardens these people called “the palace” covered an area as large as a whole village in Mino.

  Prince Oh-usu entered the room, wearing clean clothes and looking refreshed. “Honestly!” he said. “These serving girls! Oguna, just ignore them.”

  Oguna, who had been sitting awkwardly in their midst, jumped up, relieved.

  “Did you get a chance to bathe?” the prince asked.

  “Yes …” Oguna said, remembering the bathhouse with a shudder. The women who had waited on him there had also had plenty to say when they saw him.

  “Come with me,” the prince said, but then stopped and laughed at the look on Oguna’s face. “Relax,” he said, clapping him on the shoulder. “I’m not going to expose you to any more public ridicule. I’m sick of being compared to you and laughed at myself. You can have a nice, quiet room in a separate building where you can get used to living here at your own pace. I won’t let those noisy women near you. Then, when the time is right, I’ll introduce you to my mother and other people. And someday, even to my father.”

  Oguna recalled the emperor’s palatial residence with its soaring roof and gilded crosspieces. “Will Lady Akaru live in the emperor’s mansion?” he asked abruptly. His clansmen had left him at the gate to follow Lady Akaru inside while he had traveled on to the prince’s residence near the eastern foothills.

  “For now, I guess.” The prince’s face remained impassive, but his voice tightened. “She’ll be granted her own hall at some point, but I couldn’t tell you where.”

  “Can I see my clansmen before they leave for Mino?”

  The prince remained silent, thinking as they walked. “I’m sorry,” he said finally, “but that’s impossible. I want to keep your existence secret for a while. If people found out about you, your value as my shadow would decrease. I don’t want anyone to know that I’ve brought you here from Mino.”

  Oguna nodded. “It’s all right. I understand. I said goodbye already anyway.”

  The prince smiled. “You’re a smart boy,” he said. Then his face grew serious. “You’ve got a lot to learn yet, but there’s one thing I want you to remember: As long as you live here, be on your guard. Death waits for the careless. My father’s palace is large, bright, and gay. It’s full of people, but it’s still as dangerous as being alone in the forest in the dead of night. I suppose you find that hard to believe?”

  “Yes,” Oguna said, surprised.

  “I thought so. But that’s what it means to be the emperor’s son, so you’d better get used to it. I didn’t master the sword and the bow for fun. I learned to use weapons because I had to.”

  “But who … who would want to kill you?”

  “Who are my enemies? I have many,” the prince said, almost proudly. “Given a chance any of the chiefs who resent the emperor’s rule would kill my father, or me, his heir. So too would my father’s wives who seek to place their own sons on the throne, and any ministers who support a different prince. There’s an intense power struggle behind the facade. People who live here are good at hiding what they think behind their smiles. Then there’s my father who sends me off on dangerous missions to hunt down rebels or act as his envoy. He’s testing me. If I succeed I gain his trust, but if I fail, it could cost me my life.”

  Seeing the troubled look on Oguna’s face, the prince placed a hand on his head. “It’s not as bad as it sounds,” he said, his smile returning. “Once you get used to it, it seems normal. I’ve done pretty well so far, and I plan to continue doing so.”

  At the end of a long covered passageway, they came to a modest building overlooking a quiet, tranquil garden of rocks and moss surrounding a small pond and bordered by a grove of pines. Prince Oh-usu slid the door open and they stepped inside. The room was tidy and bare, as if it had not been used for some time. “I’ll have them bring over all the things I used when I was your age,” he said. “You should learn just as I did—learn to act just like me. I’ll make sure you have the very best teachers. I won’t be here much, but with the teachers I select, you can’t go wrong.”

  Oguna looked up at him like a lost puppy. “You’re not going to be here?”

  “I spend most of my time traveling, you see. I’ll have to go back to Mino several times to build the villa, for example. But I won’t treat you badly. You’ll have everything you need. After all, I chose you to be my shadow, which means that your future is mine. We’re destined to become far more than brothers.” His face brightened. “I’ll tell you what. Next time I go to Mino, I’ll see if I can learn anything about your parents. Perhaps I can find some clue.”

  Oguna looked doubtful. “But it was twelve years ago. Do you really think it’s possible?”

  “It’s worth a try. Oh, and one other thing. Your name doesn’t really suit your role as my double. Why don’t I give you a new one? My name is Oh-usu, meaning ‘big mortar,’ so how about Ousu—‘little mortar’? It will sound like you really are my younger brother.”

  Oguna was touched by the prince’s thoughtfulness, although he still preferred his own name. He could hear Toko’s indignant voice echoing in his mind: He’s the only boy in our house, and that makes him special.

  One of the “very best teachers” was none other than Nanatsuka. Oguna was surprised by how pleased this news made him. He had not realized how much he had dreaded the thought of being left without any familiar faces.

  “No one in the capital can beat Nanatsuka at field combat and hunting,” the prince said, as though boasting of his own prowess. “And that goes for archery too. He’s the one who taught me to shoot. Stay with him night and day and learn everything you can. He’ll never run out of things to teach you. He’s also the best servant you could ask for and has served me faithfully for many years.” Turning to Nanatsuka, he continued, “From today, you’re Ousu’s teacher. I want you to live here with him and train him just like you did me. All right?”

  As always, Nanatsuka held himself so respectfully that his enormous frame seemed almost small. He bowed solemnly and said, “I am at your service.”

  “Good,” the prince said cheerfully. “No one has spent longer by my side and no one knows my
habits as well as you do. I’m counting on you to make sure that Ousu is fit to serve as my shadow.” Then he turned and began to stride away.

  “My lord,” Nanatsuka called after him hesitantly. “If I may make a request …”

  “What is it?”

  “I only ask that you take Miyadohiko in my place as your servant. Though young, he is reliable and trustworthy.”

  The prince frowned. “The right to choose who goes with me is mine, not yours. You have no say in the matter.”

  “I beg your pardon.” Nanatsuka bowed his head even lower.

  The prince’s expression relaxed and he said teasingly, “Well, whomever I take, whether Miyadohiko or someone else, no one could be such a hound as you. You stay here with Ousu and let me run like a loosed fox for a while.”

  “Please take care.”

  The prince waved his hand impatiently and left the room. Nanatsuka’s shoulders fell. Watching him, Oguna did not know what to say. But there was no trace of disappointment on Nanatsuka’s face when he turned toward him. Placing a large, heavy hand on Oguna’s shoulder, he said, “Since we’re both here because we found favor with His Highness, let’s do our best to be of service to him.”

  “Yes, sir,” Oguna said hastily.

  From the next morning, Nanatsuka took Oguna hiking almost daily. They walked the fields and mountains, gazing down on the capital from every mountain ridge as Nanatsuka drilled the geography of Mahoroba into Oguna’s feet and eyes. Seen from above, the palace was a wooden miniature of gray and red buildings packed into a neat little box. Oguna not only learned the layout of the capital but also developed strong legs. His aching muscles plagued him for many uncomfortable nights until he could keep up with his teacher.