Spirit's Princess (15 page)

“Lady Himiko! Lady Himiko! Wait!”

We all stopped and turned to see Sora racing from the village. Father scowled as the Shika huntsman caught up to us. “There’s no need for a man of your years and standing
to call this child by a title she doesn’t merit,” he said by way of greeting.

“I meant no offense.” Sora bowed to Father. “I thought that honoring her would be a sign of how much I honor you.”

“Fine, fine, never mind all that.” Father made an impatient gesture. “What business do you have with us that’s important enough to delay our journey? I want to sleep under my own roof for a change.”

“I’m sorry.” Sora bowed again, more deeply. “I forgot to give this back to her.”

Father’s eyes widened as he saw what Sora was holding in his outstretched hand. “A
stick
?” He spoke as if convinced that the Shika huntsman had lost his mind. “You came chasing after us to give this girl a skinny, miserable, broken
stick
?”

“I—I—I thought it might be something important.” Sora fidgeted. “Important to her, that is. She was carrying it when I first saw her, waving it at the deer. I thought she was using it to cast spells on them. If it was something powerful, I didn’t want to risk trying to destroy it. Who knows what kind of evil magic that might release?”

“Did you seriously think a child like this could be a shaman?” Father’s icy laugh was a slap in Sora’s face.

“No, I thought she was—” The kindhearted hunter wisely stopped himself from saying that he’d first mistaken me for a demon. Oh, what an unjustly ugly reaction he’d have gotten from Father for that! “Er, that is, I didn’t know
what
to think.”

“Obviously.” Father jerked his head in my direction.
“All right, give the ‘shaman’ her”—he snorted scornfully—
“wand.”

Chastened, Sora handed me the stick—my long-forgotten branch of cherry blossoms, now black and bare. I thanked him as warmly as I could, wanting to make up for Father’s sarcasm, but while I was still telling him how much I appreciated all he’d done for me, Father’s hand fell onto the huntsman’s shoulder.

“Forgive me, Sora,” he said, all the chill gone. “When my mind’s burdened with anger and worry, my tongue goes rogue and works mischief. You deserve nothing but my praise and thanks for having saved this girl.”

Sora accepted Father’s apology eagerly, and the two men clapped each other on the shoulder before parting on good terms. Still, judging by how fast he ran back to the village, I think Sora must have felt glad to escape our company.

To my surprise, Father made no more comments about the barren cherry branch, not even when I carried it along with us instead of discarding it by the side of the path. In fact, his silence extended from the moment Sora left us to the time when we made camp for the night in the shelter of the mountain pines.

The way home was far more direct than my wandering journey to the Shika village. One of the few occasions when Father spoke during our trip was to declare that if he had things his way, he’d be home in less than two days, but that it would probably take us four. He gave me a pointed look when he said it. This had the effect of making me determined to prove him wrong. I not only kept pace with him and Aki, but there were some fairly level places along the
way where I could summon up my peculiar, eccentric style of running and speed ahead of them. Aki was impressed and said so, but if Father felt the same, he kept it to himself.

To be honest, none of us were very talkative on that journey. I was expecting Father to give me a blistering scolding for my escapade. That first day on the road I walked with my impending punishment hovering over me like a hawk’s shadow over a field mouse. When nothing happened and not a word was said by nightfall, I didn’t know what to make of his silence, though I was deeply grateful to be spared a reprimand.

As things worked out, we reached home in two days. When we came within sight of the lookout tower, Aki stooped to sweep me off my feet and onto his shoulders. He shushed my protests by saying he wanted everyone to have a clear view of my safe return.

“The sooner someone runs to tell Mama that you’re all right, the better it will be.”

“But if they tell her you’re carrying me home, she’ll think I’m so injured I can’t walk,” I argued. “Put me down.”

I gave him a playful swat with my “wand.” The scrawny branch of cherrywood had been with me throughout my adventure, and I wasn’t going to part with it now. Father had called it a wand in mockery, but he spoke the truth unaware: every time I looked at it, it conjured visions of Kaya and memories of the happy days I’d spent among the people of the deer clan.

Aki did as I told him, but only after he caught sight of people running across the village moat to welcome us home.
Shoichi and Masa were among them, leading the crowd at a full-out charge. They didn’t slow their pace by even half a stride as they neared us but plowed straight into me, laughing and calling my name. I would have been bowled over if their embraces hadn’t kept me on my feet. At a word from Aki, all three of my brothers picked me up and carried me the rest of the way among them, as if I were a quarry they were bringing home from the hunt.

At our house, Mama, Yukari, and Emi were all waiting in a row at the top of the ladder, tears streaking their cheeks and smiles lighting their faces. I was hustled inside, examined thoroughly for any signs of injury, chattered over, hugged, and alternately told that I was the worst daughter ever born and the most precious child in the world. The three of them took turns, so when one woman had to pause for breath, another stepped in. I doubt that they
wanted
to keep me from uttering a single word of apology or explanation, but that’s the way it worked out. The hardest part was not knowing where to look. Each speaker wanted me to meet her eyes, to be certain I was paying attention to what she was saying, but what was I supposed to do when they all decided to speak at once? I soon gave up and fixed my eyes on the wolf skull someone had mounted on the wall, counting and recounting the beast’s fearsome teeth and waiting for my ordeal to end. Father and my brothers remained on the porch. I didn’t know what they were doing, but I wished I could have joined them.

Things only settled down when Father finally stuck his head inside and said he wanted dinner. Mama and my
stepmothers scattered to make the needful preparations while my brothers trooped back into the house. I couldn’t wait to taste familiar dishes again, but my appetite was soon ruined by the dark mood that descended over the meal. It sprang into being from the moment Mama began serving us. All through dinner, she kept trying to give me the best bits of our food, and Father kept stopping her with a grunt and a sharp, forbidding gesture. It worked immediately every time … until the next time.

Trapped between them, I squirmed and prayed for the meal to be over. The rest of my family looked just as unhappy as I felt, especially my brothers. Aki sat at Mama’s other side, with Shoichi and Masa next to him, in the order of their ages. Yukari had the place beside Masa, and Emi was next to her, at Father’s elbow. We should have been a glad gathering, taking pleasure in a good meal and celebrating my safe return. Instead, we ate under a storm cloud.

Aki tried to lighten things by filling the house with stories. He told me about the wolf hunt, about how Masa and Shoichi had carried themselves like true hunters.

“There was one young she-wolf who kept splitting off from the pack and prowling around us, just out of bowshot,” he said. “I’ll bet she wanted to see if our group would separate so that she could catch one of us alone.”

“Foolishness,” Father snapped. “Wolves don’t think that way. Their strength comes from acting together. Something was wrong with that one.”

“Well, it
seemed
as if she had that sort of plan in mind,” Aki said. “If that were so, she nearly got her chance. The strap of Masa’s quiver broke and all his arrows spilled out.
We didn’t know he’d stopped to gather them, or that the wolf was circling closer.”

“Oh, please don’t say any more, Aki!” Mama cried. “I can’t stand it!”

“But, Mama, look, nothing happened,” I said, stroking her hand. “Masa’s here, safe and well, see?”

“So he is,” Aki said. “And who do we have to thank for that? No one but our own brother Shoichi!”

Shoichi turned red and lowered his head, murmuring that he hadn’t done anything worth talking about. I was surprised by his newfound modesty and looked at my second-oldest brother with admiration.

Aki gave him a hearty pat on the back. “Is that so? Then tell me, who was it who spoke up and asked what had become of Masa? Who was the first to go back for him? Whose ears were keen enough to realize that he wasn’t the only one on Masa’s trail?” He swept his arm to indicate the wolf skull on the wall. “And whose arrow saved our brother just when—?”

“Enough!”
Father was on his feet, fists clenched, the muscles on his neck and jaw taut, an apparition more frightening than any wolf. “
This
is why your sister wandered off like a fool.” He jabbed a finger at Aki. “You. You and your stupidity, turning careless, negligent mistakes into fine-sounding tales. If Masa had had the sense to examine his weapons before leaving the village, he wouldn’t have left himself open to the wolf’s attack. And as for Shoichi, his arrow only grazed the beast’s shoulder before flying wild into the woods! A flea’s bite would have done more damage.”

I saw my two younger brothers cringe under Father’s
bitter tirade. I wanted to reach out to them, to take their hands, to tell them to pay him no mind. I knew that was impossible.

Only Aki sat tall and uncowed by the spate of rage loosed under our roof. Lifting his chin, he said, “You weren’t there. You don’t know how it was. That ‘flea bite’ got the wolf’s attention, turning her away from Masa. Until that moment, none of my party could get a clean shot at the creature. We were all too scared of the scorn that follows every hunter of this clan if he misses his target. Was it always this way? No. I’ve spoken to more than one of our clan’s grandfathers, and they remember other times. When did the Matsu start caring more about what others would say about them and less about what they could
—should
—do? Whose tongue-lashings worked that change?” He stared at Father meaningfully. “Only Shoichi wasn’t afraid of drawing ridicule. For that, yes, I
do
call him a hero.”

“Then you’re a worse fool than I thought,” Father said grimly. “Your behavior among that outlander clan proves it. Do you imagine I didn’t see you sniffing after that woman’s milk-faced daughter? My eyes work, even if your mind is full of straw! What were you thinking? If you want to take a bride, there are plenty of suitable girls within our own village walls, pretty girls, well-mannered girls, girls who’d be honored to become the first wife of a chieftain’s oldest son!”

Aki’s cheeks flamed. “
That woman
is Lady Ikumi, and she’s as important a chieftain as you. No, she’s even
more
powerful; she’s her clan’s shaman!”

Mama whimpered. “Aki, son, my dear son, please don’t
say such things.” She plucked at his sleeve, but he ignored her and the venomous look in Father’s eyes.

“Her daughter is a hundred times as suitable to be my wife as any of our Matsu girls. She outshines them in every way, in everything you say recommends them. She’s beautiful, kind, charming—!”

Father turned his head aside and spat. “She’s a new face, that’s all; new and different. You didn’t grow up with her, so you’ve made her into something special, like a piece of fruit that’s growing just beyond your reach. Believe me, if you get your hands on it, you’ll find it tastes the same as the rest.”

“Well, if she is the same as our girls, why
can’t
I want her?”

“Oh, you can
want
her all you like.” A cold smile stretched Father’s lips. “You just can’t have her. Are you too moonstruck to understand? She’s not one of
our
people. She isn’t Matsu.”

“Why does that matter?” Aki challenged. “So she’s Shika, not Matsu; so what? Her people showed us nothing but hospitality, generosity, and respect. They wanted to begin trading with us. They treated Himiko like one of their own instead of saying, ‘She’s not Shika, so leave her to die!’ ”

Father’s expression changed to one of pity. With a slow shake of his head, he said, “My son, you’ve grown to be one of our clan’s best hunters and trackers, the equal—even the better!—of men many years older than you. My pride in you is beyond measure, but sometimes it makes me forget that you’re still little more than a boy. Your face is marked with a
man’s tattoos, but your mind and heart are as untouched and ignorant as a baby’s. You haven’t experienced enough of life to understand the grim truth behind the Shika chieftess’s ready smile.

“Times are good now. We’ve been favored with many seasons of plenty, free from hunger and want, but who knows when the spirits will decide we’ve lived easily for long enough? Hard, hungering times are when the truth comes out and when clan fights clan to survive. If you married your Shika girl and her people attacked us, could you trust her to stay loyal to
our
clan?”

“And what if
we
were the ones who attacked her people first?” Aki shot back.

Father ignored the question. “Look at your poor mother!” he declared. “Look at what your rebelliousness and disloyalty are doing to her!” He pointed to where Yukari and Emi had moved to take Mama into their arms as if their bodies could shield her from the argument raging between father and son. Mama’s hands covered her face as she wept so softly it was nearly inaudible. Only the shudder of her shoulders signaled the force of her grief. I tried to reach out and comfort her, but my stepmothers’ embrace separated us.

“How is this my fault?” Aki cried.

“You’re the one willing to sacrifice your own clan for the sake of that girl. What’s worse, we wouldn’t be involved with the Shika at all if not for you!”

Aki gaped at Father as if he’d gone out of his mind and dragged the rest of the world along with him. “How can you say that? Himiko was the one who led us to the Shika.”