“I have no one.”
She said, “You have your sons, lord. You have the imperial army. You have me.”
“You?” The word, so soft on his lips. “Your family wanted you to kill me.” It was not an accusation. Just a simple statement of fact.
“You knew?”
“Of course I knew… I always knew.”
“Then why trust me?”
He buried his thin frame in blankets; nothing seemed to shield him from the cold. “I trusted you to make a choice. I trusted that my instincts would be right. And I hoped you would be loyal.”
“I am,” she said. “I am loyal.”
“Then I will need your help.”
Outside, slow-melting ice shone in the pale moonlight, tufts of snow. The clouds were clearing already; the air felt heavy, pressed.
“‘Three will die’,” he whispered at last. “The demon-emperor. Sutoh. He cursed us, the three great families, after we sent him from this land. The Ten’in… the Gensei… the Keishi. The three families who were allied, and now are torn apart. ‘Three will die.’ He promised to use our children to recompense for the death of his daughter. He wrote our names in his own blood, spilled from his tongue when he cut it out and smeared it on the walls. And now…
“Now, I fear we all suffer for it. I am not the man I once was. My bones are brittle with age. My heart is weak. I am dying, Yaeko. No, it’s true, I am. It’s all right. I’ve known for some time; I only wish I could delay it but another year. My sons won’t have an easy time running things when I’m gone, they’ll fight each other… there will be no unity in our clan.” He gripped her by the arms, a desperate motion he didn’t try to hide. “You must help us, Yaeko.”
“What would you have me do?” she asked.
“Fight. Help Akiyo lead my sons. Keep the clan together. We’ll make you one of us. An adopted daughter. I’ll add you to our lineage; the mark against you will be gone. But you must tell me… Will you fight for us, Yae? Will you fight for what our family represents?”
Our family, she thought.Our family.
“I will, ame’in,” she said, emotion breaking through her voice. “You have my word. I will.”
“Thank the gods,” he said. He clung to her hand, as though she could save him from his demons, even now. “We will need you.”
When she left, she saw the book that lay open on his lap. Saw the words he read. It was a poem, old verse from the ancient Book of Leaves:
Oh little girl,
little girl with your basket
with your shovel
you gather shoots on the hillside
from where have you come?
I want to ask your name
little girl
this land is all my land
this land under the gods
in the realm of heaven
they are watching
come with me, child; come
