Chapter Thirteen Kai #2
The west gate: silent, cold and gray. The famous trees, orange and cherry, stood as lone watchers in the courtyard.
No one wanted to go out. They passed snow-covered halls, the little fence-line with the bell that rang in splintery air, and went to the pine garden on the other side.
Here Yora sat on a bench, looking at the falling snow in the mute, stone-colored sky.
“I enjoy this little grove,” he said. “Close as we’ll ever get to the woods, when we’re here. In the capital.”
“I like it too.” They were quiet for a moment, watching light, cottony tufts among the evergreens, pine needles glistening with ice.
Her uncle looked at his hands. The scars, the thick fingers.
Tough skin, callused and strong from practice.
And yet, as she glanced at Yora now, she thought he seemed so old, sitting heavily on the bench.
So tired. He massaged his fingers, and let the moment go on.
Somewhere, a bird called, a blue-winged magpie darted from the camellias.
“I haven’t seen my daughters in more than a year,” he said. “So much time has passed. They’ve been training with your cousin Tokuon in the mountains near Yamakaji. After their arguments with the chancellor’s sons, they couldn’t stay.”
“I wrote to them, before they left.” She kept her eyes downcast. “I told them not to go.”
“Well, my daughters will never do what you tell them.” He smiled softly. “Seikiyo offered them a choice. The same choice he demanded of me: stay loyal, or die. My daughters could not stay loyal. And of course, they would not die. So it was exile.”
“Just like all of us,” Kai said.
“But not your father.” Yora did not look so tired anymore. He looked angry. “You may be limited here, but you are alive. You have your rank.”
“What rank? I have no lands. They gave our lands to Zusho…”
“You have your life. Sometimes that is enough.”
“Thank you for the lesson, uncle,” she said, souring. “But I have things to do, excuse me.”
“Patience, Kai. Please. It’s the only way we have survived. The only reason we still have what few things we do.”
“And while you were being patient, uncle, Seikiyo was the one taking everything we had. Think about it.”
He said: “Don’t you think I have? Kai. Do you know why people say we need a man like him? Seikiyo? They think the emperor and the monks are not enough to lead us through an age of plagues. When things get bad, you need someone who can use a bow.”
Frustrated, she shook her head. “Why do all these terrible things need to happen,” she muttered.
“We’re human. We have the beautiful, and the terrifying, in us, both.”
“I’ve received a letter from the monk Moro, of the Gate. He wants to meet me. Did you know that?”
A pained look crossed her uncle’s face. “No,” he said. “I did not.”
“Why do you think he wants to meet? It’s because he’s at war with the monks of the Mountain, and they are backed by Seikiyo. He means to move against them.”
“That would not be wise.”
“He has allies. He’s a friend – and advisor – to the retired-emperor. Goshira has said as much. He wants our help.”
Yora stirred. “The monks say, ‘One spirit, two souls.’ And as it is within each of us, so too is it with the realm. Our lands have always had a dual system of power, Kai, going back all the way to Sora’in, and before.
Some say the early emperors ruled as brother and sister, sharing duties, alternating between religious rites and the path of governance. ”
“Is that true?”
“I believe it could be. One spirit, two souls. Such is the nature of our world. Calm, and tempestuous, both. Wise, and foolish, both.”
“Dead and alive,” Kai said, breathing the words. “Both.”
“Two hearts,” said Yora. “The empire always defines itself by what it is, and what it is not. Civilized, against the barbarians in the east and south. Emperor the religious leader, regent chancellor the political. Two powers. There have been, ever since Sora’in banished the gods and monsters from our realm. ”
The story of the Sora’in had always been Kai’s favorite: ruler of the Eight Islands, the shaman empress Sora’in was born the first child of Emperor Kotake, descendant of the god Hirume Kotaijin.
When she came of age, she was crowned Ten’in, and as she mastered her powers, she was able to manifest both souls within her spirit and transformed into her true form.
Kai remembered details of the story now: how Sora’in was the most powerful human to have lived, how her power rivalled that of the eight million gods; how, after conquering the dragonfly islands, she met the god of the earth to forge a peace between the spirit-world and her own.
She married the god of the earth and had a daughter, but after years of peace, Orochi, the serpent-god, arrived, and soon he killed the god of the earth with Sora’in’s own weapon, the sacred spear of heaven, and took her husband’s skin to get into her bed.
When the night came and they lay naked together, he revealed himself in his true nature. She threw him out in fury, but they had already coupled, and the serpent-in-god-skin claimed that marrying her was the price of her powers. “You are for ever married to me now.”
Instead, she killed him, and in her rage cast a spell that banished all gods and monsters from the realm, at the cost of her life, and the spirit-world and the world of the earth were separated for evermore. Sora’in’s daughter took her place and continued the imperial line.
But that was a thousand years ago, Kai thought, and we’re still paying the price.
Ever since, matriarchal rule had been pushed further and further away.
Now most emperors were men. Now, the court looked at the untamed houses beyond the mountains and called them barbarians.
In winter, they dwell in holes, it was said; in summer, they live in nests.
They drink blood. The court dismissed them; colonized them; assimilated them into itself.
Because they need us, Kai thought.
She watched the falling snow. Already it was piling up; some children – noble-boys from the court – dashed into the yard to play beneath the pines.
She watched, while the boys, who could not be more than five or six, tumbled and tussled each other into the snow, throwing clumps at each other and running around the trees.
It would still be a cold winter, but for now the snow was light, nearly weightless.
A breeze flurried about, the pines swayed, and she thought, It’s like they’re dancing.
Feather-tufts drifted from the trees. But the pines don’t have leaves, Kai thought, some thin needles never fall.
Unlike the rest, stripped naked in the cold and left with empty branches, frozen, bitter, frail.
“There is a curse in the imperial line,” Yora said. “The royals. It infects the city like a sickness, coming and going…”
“Like Emperor Sutoh,” she said.
“The demon-emperor. Yes.”
“You knew him.”
“I met the exiled prince,” he said, after a pause.
She fought the pressure rising in her chest. “What really happened, uncle? In the war?”
“He challenged Goshira for the throne,” Yora said, simply. “We stopped him.”
“You and my father?”
“Both of us. And Seikiyo. We used to make fun of him, you know. Because his name sounds like the capital – ‘Seikiyo of Saikyo’. We joked it meant he was destined to rule us all. If only we knew how true that was.”
“The Chiten doesn’t like him.”
“Goshira still wields immense influence from his cloistered court. His precedence as head of the house has let him outflank the Hara regents. A retired-emperor will always stand above the regent body, so he took the retirement, as his father did, so he could rule unfettered. But I am worried… As chancellor, Seikiyo is now essentially considered the emperor’s teacher.
Traditionally, he would take no part in court affairs, and defer to the regents, but it’s no secret Seikiyo has no love for the Hara clan.
Whatever ceremonial duties he might have, they vanished the same time your father died.
” He held a leaf loosely in his palm. “When Seikiyo took what he thought was his.”
“The Hara have been regents for two hundred years, how could they just let that happen?”
“Because for two hundred years they’ve been losing money.
And in that time, the families – our families – gained strength.
The regents are nobles, not warriors, and they’ve been in decline for years.
This is why they call the houses of Keishi and Gensei the ‘fallen leaves’ of the royal family: because we have scattered and divided ourselves around the realm, leaving our home – the emperor’s tree – in ruins. ”
“That’s what Goshira told me,” she said softly.
“I know what the retired-emperor has told you. And I know there is some truth in his words.”
“Then we should help him.”
“There’s always a splinter of truth in what Goshira says. That’s what scares me. He never lies, not completely. Yet, at the end, the dice always land exactly how he wants. Do you know why he wields the power he does?”
“He said he didn’t have any power,” she said. “He can only consult.”
“And the dice fall as they will?” Yora shook his head.
“No. Once again, that is only halfway true… I cannot deny the Keishi are consolidating control. I worry that if something is to happen, the peace will be shattered and Seikiyo will drop all pretense and make a challenge to Goshira by virtue of his role as the grandfather to the crown prince, who lives under his roof. I fear he’ll take control of the capital by force.
What do you think will happen to us then? ”
“Then we will have to find our strength again,” Kai said. “We can do it, there are clans still loyal to us. They are in the east right now, gathering banners…”
“You take me for a coward.” Yora met her with a steely gaze. “And a fool. I know. I won’t challenge you, Kai, but I will say this: I’ve seen more revolutions than you have. And I warn you, that way will only lead to pain.”
“You’re afraid to act.”
“It’s not the Keishi I’m afraid of. Though it is true they may defeat us on the field. What I’m afraid of is all the people who will die. I’m afraid this will only curse our houses more than they already are.”
“I can’t simply sit here and do nothing,” Kai said. “I know you don’t want war. But I’m starting to think it’s going to happen whether we want it to or not.”
He massaged his fingers. “The demon-emperor didn’t start everything, you know. It goes much farther back than that. Some say it’s a curse of their greed, the Ten’in – their wickedness, and ours, for supporting them. A curse that hangs above us all.”
“What if we can try to find a way to break it?”
“I’ve been trying to break it for years,” he said. “I don’t know if I’ll succeed. Sometimes, I fear that everything just keeps getting worse and worse. But…” He attempted a smile, “maybe that’s just human nature. Come. Let us go inside.”
“We must do something,” she said.
“Kai,” he said gently, “do not act rashly. A misstep here will undo everything… We must be careful.”
“Until when, uncle! When?”
“Let us go inside,” he said again.
But she cursed and wheeled around, suddenly too confined on the bench. He would never turn against Seikiyo. She saw that now. Not on his own. He’s just trying to hold on to what he has. Nothing will change that, and in the end, Seikiyo will take it all.
Which is exactly what he wants, she thought.
I’ll have to do something myself.