Ohori said that on the tallest peaks of Eizan, and the Gisan mountains to the north, you could see the stretch of the islands reaching out into the giant blue, the shape of a dragonfly curled about its wings. She said that, on a clear day, all of the emperor’s lands came into view. Every mountain, hill, and river; every estate of the Ten-Thousand-Autumn Throne.
But we don’t believe in your dominion, east, Sen thought, stripping off his armor in the tent.We don’t believe in your country, where I’m from in Kitano.We have our own country there.He frowned, felt a sense of shame;ourcountry. He was not of Iyo’s blood.But Iyo raised me.They’re my family as much as anyone. I really do have two souls.
Remember where you came from.
Remember what your people have done. For good, for ill; remember their actions have led you to the life you have.
What if I want to change?
He’d caught his reflection – wearing the armor his stewardbrother gave him – in a puddle on his way to the tents. It held him there, his own dappled face in murk. He didn’t know what to think.
In the lowlands and the gardens of Kiseda, there was no view of hills. No arc of sky over the mountains; here, the peaks themselves seemed the edges of the world, crag-curtains swept up high and impenetrable as a wall at the border of a damp horizon. He had no view from in the farmers’ land; he had only the chill, the wet-earth smell of thawing ground, and the shudder that still rippled through his bones. How many would have to die, he wondered, so the Ten’in might claim peace?
We fight for the realm, his sister Kai had said;to save it from itself.
“Are you sure she’s gone?” Sen asked. But Saito kneeled before him, the bringer of bad news. Rui had last been seen with Jobo in the middle of the temple. They’d been swept up in the chaos and the slaughter. The monks had stayed to the end; none came out.
“There was no body,” Saito said. “But they were the last ones seen behind the gate. No one’s sure… there are reports… Some of the Poet’s men say they saw a woman dressed in white, like a shrine maid, in the courtyard. Some say she’s the one who killed Prince Nioh. They saw Jobo fall. The girl… your friend… I’m sorry. They say no one could have gotten out.”
“Well, they’re wrong,” Sen said.
“Lord, they were surrounded by the enemy. Even if she managed to escape—”
“She’ll come back,” Sen said. “We’re nothing if we don’t have hope.”
Saito acquiesced. He knew what hope would mean, and he knew better than to argue.
Soon after, Kai made her way from the generals’ encampment behind the screens and ducked lightly under the flap.
“Brother,” she said. “I want to show you something.”
The Toryo of the Gensei clan led him to her tent, high above the plain on Kise hill. Two times taller than any of the others, large enough to fit a horse, it was filled with weapons of war. Spare arrows, longblades on a rack; a pristine suit of armor sat presented on a stand.
“I want to change this,” she said, turning. “This… strangeness between us. We are family. But… tell me you don’t feel it too? That we don’t know each other. I would very much like for it to change.”
“I as well,” Sen said. “Lord.”
“I don’t want to be your lord,” Kai said, “when it’s the two of us. That’s kind of the point.”
Sen could only nod.
“But, at the same time… of course it willtaketime. To really know each other. To understand each other. To, well, totrust…”
“Trust comes naturally, to family,” Sen said. Kai tilted her head.
“Here.” She turned quickly, one slim hand held out. “I thought that you should have this.”
In Kitano, he thought,my stewardbrother gave me armor too.
“I have armor,” he said.
“Gensei armor? Look.”
Deep crimson with white and indigo, it featured an elegant crest of bamboo leaves at the helm. Sen paused, looking closer. It couldn’t be…
He knew those colors. He knew that mask. It washis.
“Father’s.”
