Silk from the River Sukai

             With the departure of droves of pilgrims, wayfarers, and seasonal merchants, the pace of life slowed after the Spring Festival. Still, thousands of citizens continued their day-to-day routines in Shenobi. For Ayaka, the days slowed markedly. Spring flowed through the weeks to the end of March and into April, the month of u-no-hana. She spent increasing time at the River Colors Silk house, helping Noribuko with their small business undertaking. Since starting, they'd sent an entire wagon-load of the rare, sought-after fabrics to be sold in the markets of Gurinhirizu.

            “If we can get another wagon or two to your uncle, we’ll be able to purchase plenty black-waygu cattle to graze the highland fields," said Noribuko, "maybe even hire a few more nomin hands when harvest comes along.”

            Ayaka and her aunt watched the mercantile wagon, stacked with crates of silks and other expensive wares, creak up the dirt road. Noribuko had a sweat-cloth wrapped around her brow due to the cauldron room's air. She slapped her hands together. “So, let’s keep at it my young maiko.”

            Though the vast majority of daiymo women would never consider such work, Ayaka and her aunt found pleasure in it. They could have supervised, but instead chose to help the nomin, just as they had on many occasions in their homeland. Ayaka liked being close to the river, the fields, and forests. It reminded her of home. Most days, the only significant time she spent in the city was returning around dusk. In the evening she often saw Akemi and Midori for tea and a few bites to eat, usually followed by cups of sake - which recurrently culminated in Midori leading them in song after song at one of the taverns. 

            “I’m so glad you’re staying,” said Midori one night when tipsier than usual. She hugged Ayaka with an arm. “Things couldn’t be more perfect, neh.”

 

            At night when Ayaka lay down to sleep, she thought of Daisuken. In the morning, seeing the origami swan by her windowsill, she remembered his kindness; and often at the silk house, looking across the river, she wondered where he was? Was he safe? And when would he return? Though she listened for tidings at the market, tavern, and other places, she gleaned little. People weren’t keen to discuss events in the east. Ayaka got the impression they largely ignored the volatile situation, pretending it was of no consequence. By the way they carried on, a lot of them had fooled themselves. When immersed in the work at the silk house, Ayaka also forgot about battles potentially being waged. Among her tasks was striping leaves from mulberry trees, which were fed to the silkworms. Harumi helped her with this, and Noribuko picked cocoons from the trees to be stirred in boiling cauldrons. To pass the time working the nomin women chatted and hummed, often filling the silk house with song. Listening to this entered Ayaka into a semi-trance like state, a window which opened to profound, albeit passing peace.

 

            During the month of u-no-hana, spring effloresced in color. The monsoon rains visited them once a week or so, showering the countryside with thundering torrents, filling streams, pattering against rooftops and windowpanes. Ayaka breathed it all in. It is part of the Seishin-yodo, the life which will never abandon us. After a long winter, the days of lengthening sunshine awakened akarui poppies in the gardens; a rainbow variety of tulips and other wild flowers poked up amid brush meadows, opening their petals like so many smiles. Darting amongst the canopies, the white-eyed mejiro, herald of spring, sought the pink plum blossoms' nectar; and flocks of starlings and finches came home, chorusing in the trees. New butterflies fluttered, honey bees droned about, and hummingbirds of bright green, red, and violet plumage, sipped from bell-shaped tree-flowers.

 

            On a sunny afternoon Ayaka walked down to the Sukai River. Lately she had joined in the women's singing, and while rinsing the cloth in the river, she hummed one of the melodies. She was setting a few articles of silk on the grassy banks when a samurai rider emerged from the forest and dismounted. 

            Ayaka stood, containing her emotions. After nigh a month, the prince had returned. They walked to one another and bowed.

            “I am so glad you’ve come back safely, Daisuken-sama." 

            He found her concern amusing. "We encountered no danger that could not be dealt with."

            “I knew everything would be alright," she said. "When did you arrive?"

            “Just now.”

            Ayaka could not see his retainers anywhere.

            “I had a notion you would be at the Silk House," said the prince. "I wanted to make sure you were the first person I saw when I returned.”

            "Thank you Daisuken." She nodded with a smile. "I am happy you found me."

                           

            After the prince came back, Ayaka did not see him as often as she had imagined she would, as they both had hoped. Daisuken was left little respite due to the constant arrival and dispatching of messengers, councils with prefectural regents, foreign envoys, and the writing and sealing of documents, including a plethora of other governmental functions. He was also called upon to help train Shenobi's army alongside general Masuro. Lord Kodai-Otosan wanted the divisions honed in tactics, ready to be launched into action if the battle-horn called them.

            The spaces between made the occasions of Ayaka and Daisuken's meetings brighter; however, during an absence of several days, Ayaka began to wonder: What am I really doing? Where is this leading? What about my vision? No... My purpose to find the Spring-Source will never change.        Beyond securing her kingdom's safety and seeking the source of Seishin-yodo, she wasn't sure what she must do, and so she focused on the present for the time being, a present in which she often waited to see Daisuken. She did not know her reasons; she simply needed to see him, like a fish that had swam to the surface for the first time and glimpsed the shining world beyond. She had to continue to rise, to glimpse the sky, to feel the air.

            The next day he found her working in the mulberry groves by the silk house. As always he brought her a small gift, a sprig of wisteria flowers this time. He had already offered to send her additional servants, but Ayaka had explained her desire to partake in the endeavors.

            "Forgive me," he said once they walked under the boughs. "I do not enjoy spending long hours dealing with matters of the state, but it is imperative. The truth is, I would much rather spend every day with you."

            I know, Ayaka thought, but caught herself before saying it. "Thank you for visiting me, Daisuken-sama," she said. "It is always very nice to see you."

            The next evening Shinji came to the Bathhouse Inn. The prince had sent the palace servant with an invitation to an art performance. She accepted and attended with Daisuken. Two days later, amid late morning, the women at the silk house saw the prince arrive. Noribuko found out before Ayaka, and came to stop her chores, shooing her off. "No more work for you today. I'll take care of it, neh. Go my dove. The prince awaits."

            Daisuken tethered his onyx war charger by a stand of willows, leaving a pair of retainers to attend the horses. Though he went unguarded, as always, he bore his dual ancestral samurai blades.

            “Wasn't a council to be held at this hour?” Ayaka asked as she and the prince strolled by the river. She didn’t wish to divert him from any proceeding of weight.

            “Let the night be occupied with solemn matters,” he answered. “The day is for beauty. That means to see you under the sun, like a celestial megami, descended to earth."

            "Thank you, Daisuken-sama." Ayaka nodded, slightly abashed by the dreamy way he looked at.

            While they walked, she noticed that he sought solace, not only in her company, but that which the countryside bestowed.

He was a man of many burdens, and she wished life could be easier for him.

            Another day not long after, the prince found her by the silk house at midday, as he said he would. Ayaka had prepared him a bento box with rice and vegetables. They sat on a log for awhile to eat, but mostly they walked. His visits never lasted longer than an hour, on account of his responsibilities to the army and government. The prince desired to get away from the city, from everyone, and roam by the water's edge with her. Their meetings were a chance to slow things down, to live unhurried, to forget. He strode often in that dignified manner, hands loosely clasped behind his back. They shared long spells of silence, yet this quiet was not awkward, not empty. And what they did speak of had little bearing on the nation's affairs, as Ayaka knew was his preference. Instead they conversed of simple everyday things; the season, its weather, what was crops were being sown, the animals and plants they observed, as well as the arts. Interwoven through it all they shared some histories of their lives. Ayaka was more inclined to give personal anecdotes, feelings, and dreams ...

            "What is it?" he asked.

            She realized she had stopped walking, and stood, transfixed by the way the lush meadow and flowers rippled under the breeze.

            "It is strong here," she spoke abstractedly. Noticing he didn't understand, she inquired, "Can't you feel it? The Seishin-yodo?"

            He gazed with her for a time. "It is a wonderful place, ... But I cannot be certain of such a power... Perhaps, ... there are many things I do not know."

            Ayaka thought to tell him about her vision, yet withheld. He would not believe, ... not yet.

           

            During their next afternoon meeting by the river, Ayaka perceived something troubled Daisuken. It was the sole occasion their discourse strayed into the political sphere. Since she would have found out anyways, he chose to be the first to inform her:

            "The Shogun has conquered Chisan-mori Kingdom."

            Ayaka halted. Despite the ample spring sunshine, a wintry chill seemed to invade.

            "Katakana Castle now stands alone," he went on. "On its cliffs it may endure the siege for a time. Unfortunately, sooner than later the Eastern hordes will shatter that stone." Pondering, Daisuken furrowed his brow. "The lords of Shinrin and Eruku become restless. Many call for harsher action in response to what has befallen Chisan-mori and Katakana. Shenobi's allies are assembling their divisions."

            "But what do they intend?" Ayaka tried to sound collected, nevertheless he felt ill to her stomach. They were strolling again, slowly howbeit, almost as if the ground could be treacherous and had to be tread carefully.

            "For now it is a show of strength. Perhaps the old enmity that Shinrin and Eruku kept Chisan-mori and Katakana is the sole thing that stays them. Thus the fate of the minor kingdoms has been sealed." Daisuken exhaled, disillusioned. "Shinrin and Eruku will continue preparations to safeguard the realm, as they should. However, if Kage-maru pushes on this course, our allies shall lose patience. It is of Shinrin I am most wary. Lord Ryudono and his son are vital partners, but they are perhaps overbold. I fear that before long they may take things into their own hands."

            Ayaka nodded, putting on a brave demeanor. I am a princess. I must not show fear.

            Speaking of the problem assuaged Daisuken's unrest. The country along the river was too lovely, and the spring breeze, laden with its ambrosial fragrances, served as a balm for the spirit. Thus as they wandered, through meadows and orchard arbors, they gave little thought to what may or may not happen elsewhere. Ayaka knew the serenity was an illusion, yet saw no reason to break its enchantment. Nothing has begun. There is still time. The typhoon might never come; its clouds were faraway, less substantial than fog, dispersed by the wind. And the prince was at peace while they appreciated the palate of blossoming colors.

 

            Nearly a week flowed past, and because of his duties, Ayaka saw Daisuken only once. She wondered why he comported himself towards her the way he did? It was clear he harbored feelings for her, deeper than fondness. Then why was he so reserved? He hadn't even tried to hold her hand. Ayaka wasn’t sure what she wanted either. True, she looked forward to his visits, and was downcast of sorts the days he did not come. But what did she expect from this man? She searched the clouded landscape of her emotions, and could not find the answers.

            "How is everything going with prince Daisuken?" aunt Noribuko asked one evening at their lodgings. "The two of you seem to get along well enough, neh?" she added hopefully.

            Ayaka sat in bed, looking out the window at the stars. Her aunt must've sensed her thoughts. Ayaka was slow to respond, "I, ... I'm not sure ... "

            "How do you mean?" Noribuko scoffed. "Can't you see he fancies you?"

            "Yes, ... it's just that - "

            "What's wrong with you? He's the prince of Shenobi for shouting to the heavens. Don't you fancy him too?" The way she asked indicated any answer other than yes was outrageous.

            "Yes, I do." Ayaka nodded. "But, ..., maybe, ..."

            Noribuko shook her head, murmuring something that sounded like a beseeching complaint to her ancestors, to the gods, or both.

 

            Two days afterwards, Ayaka and Daisuken finally took their stroll by the river again. When wading a meadow of whispering stalks, his hand found hers, and as if by their own accord, their fingers interlocked. They drifted further, listening to the swooshing foliage, until coming to a secluded swathe of grass on an embankment. Here they overlooked the river. Ducks meandered on the current, which flowed over smooth stones on its southward course through the vale, and towards the city.

            “You are beautiful,” said the prince. "The most beautiful woman I have ever known."

            “Thank you, Daisuken-sama” Ayaka smiled, nodding meekly.

            In the silence that followed she felt him studying her profile with adoration.

            "I love you, Ayaka Soranoyume."

            Unsure what to say, she listened to the river, swishing freely.

            "Do you feel nothing for me?" He asked at length.

            "Yes," she said, "I mean, I do feel, Daisuken-sama." She could not meet his gaze.

            The warmth of his breath caressed her neck. Perhaps minutes passed before she turned to him. He pressed his lips onto hers. Still, she did not meet his eyes. He kissed her neck, and heat rose in her, but she wavered. He kissed her again.

            The prince was pleased, but not overly. He wanted more - she could feel this - he wanted her entirely, from head to foot, outside as within. A part of Ayaka was willing to yield - however, for some motive she could not quite comprehend, she refrained, and they simply sat in silence, he waiting for her.

            Why did he have such patience, when all his life at the mere wave of a finger he could satiate his desires with the most beautiful women in the lands? This man, who had conquered armies and brought castles low, could easily force himself on her - instead, his conduct was gentlemanly in the utmost. Suddenly Ayaka understood. She was of the few things in his life pure and free, untainted by the conflict, the politics, the falsity of the highborn. He saw her like the sacred shiroi-hato bird. He did not want to cage the bird lest it never truly be his - for a bird, no matter how beloved by its master, remained encaged solely because its master had locked it there. Ever it would feel the call of the open skies. Unlock the door, and it would fly away, never to return,… unless, ... it loved you too. 

 

            Three days later, during mid-afternoon, Ayaka went to the river to cool off from a stint in the silk house's cauldron room. She splashed herself and drank handfuls of the sweet water. The breeze cooled the moisture on her skin. When she looked up, she saw a samurai riding a horse, trotting down the dale towards her. It was Daisuken, and he had donned his red Hiryu armor. When he drew up closer, she noted a severity in his eyes which she was not accustomed to.

            "What happened?" she asked after their salutations, though she sensed she knew.

            "Katakana Castle has fallen sooner than we foresaw. Both minor kingdoms are conquered, and Fumei-noyorou has severed every remaining diplomatic tie with Shinrin and Eruku." The prince squinted into the noon light, as if bringing his words from a memory. "In an attempt to reopen dialogue, a council will be held with Eastern representatives. It is merely for provision, but as Sword-Arm of the South, I must go. The Shogun needs to know Shenobi stands by our allies."

            Ayaka did not like this one bit. "But you said yourself, the Shogun cannot be trusted. What if it's a trap?"

            "Certain risks cannot be avoided. Worry not. We are prepared for any turn of events. I ride with two hundred of my worthiest Hiryu retainers."

            The prince dismounted and stood before her. The breeze fluctuated between them. He pulled her close and kissed her. This time Ayaka received his affection, pliant like a willow; and she held his gaze as he spoke, "The road ahead is long. If all goes well, I shall return before the month of the tall-grass. But I wanted you to be the last person I saw before I set forth."

            Within Ayaka's chest was a tightening. Did this mean he thought he might not be coming back?

            Tentatively, he asked, “Would you wait for me again?”

            The crossroads had returned. One path leading into the mist, another calling her home to Gurinhiruzu, and yet another to a different unknown. She listened to the river and the countryside to find an answer.

            “Yes, Daisuken-sama, I will wait for you.”

            They embraced. Reluctantly, het let her go, and mounted the powerful war charger.

            As he turned to leave, a pang of desperation spurred Ayaka a few steps after the horse. “Daisuken-sama," she said, "Please, be careful.”

            He turned back to her. "It is the Shogun who should be most careful." He gave an undaunted smile. "I will return. And when I do, you will be the first person I see, Ayaka Soranoyume."

            With that the prince sent his horse into a trot, then a gallop, beyond the low hills, and to the road northeast.

 

            The month of u-nohana marched on, its days as pages shuffling in a slow wind, on towards May, the month of the tall-grass. The air warmed and the days grew longer, as if the door to the sun had creaked open a little further. There's more time for everything, thought Ayaka, a silencing of fears, a reaching of hope. He will return, I know it.

            Noribuko had no qualms about extending their stay in Shenobi, especially after learning the prince had paid indefinitely for their lodgings at the inn. Furthermore, their silk trade proved profitable. The main reason Noribuko consented to remain however, was because she prayed Ayaka's relationship with the prince would grow.

            Whether temporary or not, Ayaka found a new life in Shenobi. During the day she mostly resided at the silk house, where she also perfected her art of weaving textile and silk. In the evenings she cooked dinner with Noribuko and Harumi, or kept company with Akemi, Midori, and other daiymo with whom they associated.

            Her two friends asked often about the prince; "What is he really like?" - "Is he in love with you?" - and of course - "Are you not in love with him?"

            Ayaka artfully sidestepped the inquiries when she could, and when not, she provided ambiguous replies.

            While waiting for Daisuken to return, at afternoons she occasionally wrote haikus -a practice she'd always intended to refine. One day, with empty page before her, and searching the river for meaning, the imperial servant Shinji found her. He startled her so that she nearly dropped the ink-brush and paper.

            “Forgive my intrusion, Denka Soranoyume." He bowed. "I have come to inform you that Missa Nightingale shall await your presence at the palace this evening.”

            “How do you mean?” Ayaka stood up, concealing the haikus she’d written behind her back.

            “Master Daisuken arranged for her to teach you to sing.”

            What? Ayaka looked at Shinji as if he'd made a droll joke. Then she recalled a conversation she had with the prince about how she always wanted to learn to sing, but felt she didn’t have the proper voice, much less the courage. It was a lovely gesture from Daisuken. It did not matter that Ayaka deemed herself unworthy of instruction from such an accomplished artist - she could not dishonor the invitation.

            "I will be there." She bowed. "Thank you, Shinji-san."

            Henceforth, that evening, and every other day at the hour approaching twilight, the renowned geisha taught Ayaka her art.

            "You have a lovely voice, Denka Soranoyume. Most of it is inside you still, waiting to be released like a bird into the sky, neh," said Missa Nightingale, one night in the palace. "The voice shares its intimacy with the soul. Familiarize yourself with the reservoir of feelings which resides in you. Its waters will overflow, lest you sing to channel them."

            "I havee learned much with you in a short time, Missa-san," Ayaka said. "You are a wonderful teacher."

            They sat in the opulent chamber the Kasainotora family had dedicated to famous geisha. In her presence, Ayaka had felt the need to dress up, and so she had applied rice powder, lined her eyebrows, tied her hair up, and draped herself with a sky-blue kimono. Missa Nightingale wore a crimson robe. The geisha served them tea. The way Missa spoke, moved, everything she did was done with effortless grace, so much so Ayaka began to believe the praise Missa gave her

            "When you find freedom in your voice, you will entrance courts across Isodoro."

            Although Ayaka could not believe she would ever be half as talented as the geisha professed, other things came to her unsought. As the weeks progressed Ayaka realized that in a sense, she had become part of Shenobi's daiymo class. It mattered not whether she considered herself as such; others did. When she first arrived, the women at the silk house comported themselves toward her with a deference befitting her station. However, as it became common knowledge the prince consorted with Ayaka, they treated her with an honor to which she was unaccustomed, nor which she particularly wanted. She tried to make them understand she and prince only shared an esteem for one another, and that in truth no difference existed between herself and them. This was in vain. And it wasn't just the women at the silk house. Others, here and there, in increasing number, recognized her as the young noblewoman the prince had his eyes on. Total strangers proffered bows, and hailed her: "Good day, O-Denka Soranoyume." - "Blessings to you, Denka."

            Was the benevolent will of the people joining, perhaps to shape her destiny? What could they expect of her, when her own wishes remained an enigma?   

            At mid-noon on a clear day, by herself in the groves near the silk house, a current from the north rustled the leaves, spirit-like. Its whisper made her pause. She felt it calling to her, to find what was lost in her dreams. My journey, ... my karma, ... I can never turn from it. Beyond the need to seek this mystery, Ayaka didn't know what steps to take in her life; and the path north felt more distant each day. Often when alone by the river, or looking out the window next to her bed, where the origami swan perched, she realized that the affection she harbored Daisuken was growing, in part, because the intervals of time and distance separating them gave these feelings space to unfold. But was it strong enough? Agh! Perhaps I should simply return to Gurinhiruzu, and spare the prince my confusion. Another voice had begun to nudge her, however, suggesting perhaps her true destiny rested in Shenobi, and that the other a dream, nothing more.

 

            The days of late spring stretched long, and the wilderness teemed lush and vivid. A gentleness tempered the season; and with it a promise of hope, permeating. The tranquility merged into Ayaka's meditations. The furtive uguisu bush-warbler whistled, and the swallows built their nests. Peach trees burgeoned with pink flowers. Among the shrubbery, dogwood flowers, daisies, magnolias, and laurels, speckled the tapestry. 

            On of these unhurried days, Daisuken found Ayaka. Upon seeing the prince she ran across the glade to him. All her worries had been in vain, as worry most often proved.

            "I told you, Ayaka Soranoyume," he said, "that you would be the first person I would see when I returned."

            Once they traipsed by the river, and their emotions settled, conversation invariably turned to his expedition.

            "Nothing came of the council," he explained. "Kage-maru's emissaries made impossible demands before they would consider any semblance of cooperation with the Southern Kingdoms. How can they expect us to recognize the Shogunate as imperial authority?" Daisuken scoffed. "Why, with the emperor and his kin so long cloistered behind Soraijeno's walls, they knew nothing of the true state of Isodoro's affairs."

            It had been a long time, Ayaka knew, since the emperor truly ruled Isodoro. Verily, not since before the Shinseina Heiwa Age collapsed into the Age of Warring States. Once nigh every lord in Isodoro had bowed to the imperial family, but nowadays their station had become symbolic more than anything, even if still the most sacred lineage in the isle of many gods.

            "They dishonored us all," the prince continued. "Envoys at the council stood up and walked out on each other, hurling insults, close to drawing their blades in Shinrin's royal chamber." Daisuken exhaled, releasing some of the tension. "I know not what step we should take next. I suppose we wait and see if the Kyojin Wolf does anything more than growl and bar its fangs."

            Their conversation left Ayaka hollow with dread. Events were approaching a precarious balance. Unsure what else to do, she prayed to Amaterasu. If justice and vengeance meant the lands would be upturned, then she did not want justice, and thus she prayed to the sun goddess for peace.

 

            Tame winds had swept the skies clear when Daisuken came back to find her another day, riding up the banks of the Sukai River on his jet-black steed. He helped her mount the great horse. She held his waist, he took the reins, and they embarked on an excursion through the countryside. Past the outlying farmsteads they galloped, and abreast water-logged rice fields. They entered the woods northwest. The stallion leapt over fallen tree trunks, surging so fast the air whistled in Ayaka's ears. Daisuken steered the stallion up embankments of bamboo and evergreen, until they emerged atop a wide rock face.

            Before and below them lay the countryside they'd traversed; including a view of the river, the city of Shenobi, and further, lake Seinaru - and beyond its sapphire waters she glimpsed the bluish-green shores of the Far South, hazed by distance.

            The prince tethered his warhorse. He put an arm around her and they beheld the vista. Ayaka gave into his kisses and the warmth of his affection.

            "This is a little higher than Kami-no-goza Tower, neh?" Ayaka joked, leaning back against his chest.

            "One day, I shall be lord." He motioned to encompass the lands. "And then, all this can be yours too."

            Ayaka tried concealing her surprise upon understanding what he implied.

            Daisuken bid his time, then said, "I wish to marry you, Ayaka Soranoyume."

            She took a nervous swallow. Though she had been anticipating the proposal, now that it had been posed, she was suddenly uncertain, about everything.

            "I know tradition and decorum require I ask your uncle, Tayori-san," said Daisuken. "But I wanted to ask you first. It must not be for anyone but you to decide."

            Ayaka nodded, attempting to lose herself in the panorama. What was the matter with her? Did she love him, in the necessary way? She had realized how strong her doubts were.

            Daisuken could bear it no longer. “There is not someone else, is there? Someone, already in your heart?”

            Ayaka continued to look into the vista. A gulf was opening between them, she sensed, or perhaps she was merely being forced to recognize what had always been there. Her voice was little more than a whisper, “No, Daisuken-sama, ... there is no one else."

            "Good." He nodded; his words trembling with anger, "For I could not stand the idea of another having you.”

            Ayaka gazed into the horizon, she was about to speak -

            “It would kill me," he said. "There is no one else whom you should love. Do you understand!?” 

            Her silence was torturing him, yet how she could answer when she did not know her own truth? The rift separating them was filled with her silence, like a chasm Ayaka feared could not be bridged.

            “What is the matter with you?” His voice thrashed. “Don't you see? You, … you must be mine!”

            Ayaka shared his agony, but any response forsook her. She was standing among the mists again, wondering what path to take. Unable to face her quiet, he stormed away, fists clenched, and stood by himself atop an outcrop. 

            Ayaka closed her eyes. Praying, thinking, desperately. The high wind sighed.

            “Forgive me for losing my temper,” he said, approaching her after drawn-out minutes. “But can you not see, that I need you, Ayaka Soranoyume?” 

            "You do me great honor. The greatest I have ever received. I, ...," Ayaka faltered.

            She wanted to strike herself. Isn't this what you always wanted? And isn't this what you need to do. So how can you not know!? Ayaka could scarcely believe herself. This was the prince of one of the most powerful kingdoms in the known world. He could have any woman he wanted. Yet, here he was, begging her to accept him.

            “I only want you,” Daisuken implored. “You matter more to me than anything in this world.”

            Ayaka sensed this emotional disclosure had reduced him to a state of vulnerability he wasn’t accustomed to, even in battle. How could she help him?

            “I can make you the princess of Shenobi.” His fists were at his chest. “And one day you shall be queen, and rule at my side. I will bestow you everything.” He gestured across the scope of the country.            

            The prince of the South had placed so much of the world at Ayaka's feet, and still indecision gripped her. Any other woman would not think twice. Princess of Shenobi? Queen of the South? Was this her karma? She searched, as though looking into a pool of water, trying to descry the bottom, but seeing only shadows, and reflections ...

            "It's just that, there is something I must do," she answered. "Another path was set before me long ago. The vision I spoke of. I have to follow it no matter how far it takes me, until I find the source of the Seishin-yodo. It is what has been lost to me, and the world. This is my karma. How could I be a good wife, if I deny my purpose? If I do not even know where it will take me?"

            Daisuken frowned, considering her words. "It matters not. If you are married to me, you can still be true to what is most important to you. In this you will not be like other wives." He spoke in earnest, "I swear not to hold you back in anyway."

            Ayaka nodded; her smile was sad though. It seemed so perfect. Nevertheless, as he promised her this and more, she knew he did not even believe in the Seishin-yodo. More importantly, it became clearer, that although she had affection for him, before anything else, she esteemed as a friend.

            Daisuken painfully dragged the words out, “I know I cannot force you to feel anything ... but in time, ... perhaps you could love me, even half as much as I love you."

            Ayaka drowned her vision in the depths of the landscape before closing her eyes. Was it more than friendship? Yes, a stronger bond united them, albeit hard to define. Perhaps that is enough? Perhaps that is the best way to begin? But in the end Ayaka feared it might never be as he wished. They were of different paths, different elements. She was water. He was fire. His faith resided in worldly strength, and she sought hers from a higher realm. Also, there was another side to him which made her hesitant. She had seen it atop the tower, like a shadow of himself, consumed by war. Even if she married him, Shenobi, and the way of the samurai, would ever be his first devotion. To expect otherwise would be to ask the tiger to relinquish the hunt. There were aspects deeply ingrained in each person, and in Daisuken it was the sword and the battlefield.

            She gathered herself up and broke her silence. "I do have feelings for you, Daisuken-sama. But I have only one life, and I cannot be brash with it." She shook her head reluctantly. "Right now, I don't know what I want. You deserve far much better than that. You deserve someone who would love you, without reservation."

            She ventured to look in his eyes, and saw the sheen of sorrow he fought back.

            "Please forgive me," she said, "but I do not think I can be that person."

            Ayaka felt her own tears welling, blurring her vision; for in breaking the prince's heart, she broke her own.

 

*          *          *

 

            The following couple days Ayaka did not go back to the silk house, nor did she seek the company of her friends. She returned to see Missa Nightingale a last time however, to thank the geisha for everything, and to excuse herself from further instruction. Perhaps sensing Ayaka's reasons, the geisha did not inquire further.

            Several days further drifted by at the silk house, and the prince did not come to find her. While rinsing the textile, or looking at the river, Ayaka tried to submerge her thoughts, yet could not avoid dwelling on the pain she had caused him. Where was he? What was he doing? Though Ayaka wanted to weep, she staved off the urge so none would suspect more than they might already. If others learned the truth, it would only bring shame upon the prince, and herself. Once when alone by the river, she tore her haikus apart and threw them into the wind. So stupid! All of it! Alone, she could not ward off the tears.

            In the evenings when Midori and Akemi came looking for her, Ayaka passed up their invitations by pretending to be sick, so she could stay at the lodgings. Unfortunately she could not fool Noribuko. From the very first her aunt noticed. To Ayaka's surprise though, Noribuko did not ask her about it; maybe because she did not want her suspicions to be confirmed. Her aunt spoke little to her during those days, and when she regarded Ayaka, it was with a certain disappointment, as well as an empathy.

            I have failed her. I am failing my entire kingdom, thought Ayaka, while sulking in one of the inn's private baths, staring through the vapor. If I don't marry Daisuken, then I can't marry anyone in the South. Doing so would heap dishonor on him. But should she wed solely for political gain? It went against her nature. She sighed, sinking deeper in the bath. It would all be decided soon anyways. In one year, uncle Tayori would likely force her to marry someone. Who? Probably some total stranger from a neighboring kingdom. No. Before any of that could happen, she must depart the South, and leave everything behind to journey to the Blue Mountains.

            Her time at Shenobi had come to an end. Within the next day or two, Ayaka intended to depart. That night she began packing her things.

 

            Late the following morning, Ayaka walked to the silk house to bid farewell to the nomin women. On her way she stood on a slope by the river. Such a beautiful place, with memories she would cherish the rest of her days. While drinking it in, Shinji appeared, approaching at a shuffling run, his colorful silk robes bright in the sun. He bore a scroll which he delivered to her.

            "Thank you, Shinji-san." Ayaka bowed after receiving it. The scroll was sealed with the royal family's insignia. "Do you know what this is about?"

            "Oh no, that is not for me to be privy to," he said with a smile.

            Tentatively, Ayaka opened it. The message was simple, but she could scarcely believe the power of what it communicated. Thereupon she rushed back to the Bathhouse Inn to inform Noribuko.

            "Blessed gods," her aunt said, clasping her hands together. "What will you do?"

            "Go and speak with lord Kodai-Otosan," answered Ayaka. Her hesitancy to see the prince after what had happened was overridden by this need.

            After changing into her most elegant raiment - a pale jade-green and blue kimono - and putting on a pair of earrings and applying a touch of makeup, Ayaka directed herself through the centric quarter, scroll in hand. She braced herself for the shame of showing herself at the palace, reminding herself she must to endure it. Upon approaching the gates the halberd-wielding sentries stepped aside, bowing. After explaining her business to one of the servants, Shinji emerged to guide her to the royal chamber. They ascended to the third landing. From there the primary corridor stretched on and on each time one of the heavy-wood double-doors were slid back by pairs of Phoenix-Guards, opening the way into the heart of the palace. When the final portal opened, a vast, high-ceilinged chamber was revealed.

            "Lord Kodai-Otosan," Shinji announced their presence, his voice echoing into the nearly void space.

            Far across polished white-pine floors, close to the end wall, several men in casual samurai attire were gathered. They turned to regard the newcomers. The man in the middle sat an echelon above the rest, on a cushion atop a platform. The lord of Shenobi. Ayaka recognized him not just by his position, but the mostly white beard, and the rich crimson and gold kimono he wore, with starched raised shoulders. He sat in lotus style, one hand on either knee, and maintained the meditative posture with such discipline, Ayaka had the impression he could remain motionless for days. On the wall behind the Southern lord, as if it had emanated from him, was a giant redwood relief of the Kyojin-Kasai Phoenix, spreading its wings.

            "I present you, Lady Soranoyume of Gurinhiruzu Kingdom," Shinjin concluded the introductions.

            Kodai-Otosan nodded. His dry voice echoed, "Come forth, Lady Soranoyume."

            Ayaka left her sandals at the entrance and walked down a beige mat which extended the center of the chamber, directly to the stern lord. The other men shuffled back to either side of their ruler, and knelt, hands on their thighs. One of them was general Masuro - head clean-shaven, coal black moustache and beard. The other two struck Ayaka familiar, as high-ranking retainers. All had their swords secured in their sashes. Prince Daisuken was nowhere to be seen.

            Facing the lord of Shenobi, Ayaka knelt and bowed.

            "Thank you for responding to my summons," said the old ruler.

            "Thank you, lord Kodai-Otosan, for allowing me this honor," she answered. "And thank you for considering my position, and that of my people."

            "My son is the one who brought it to my attention. Truth be told, I did not agree at first, but Daisuken convinced me of the strategic importance of such an alliance."

            "Steel sharpens steel," said Masuro, leaning forward a mite. "Father as son. Our leaders are of keen wisdom indeed."

            "Where is Daisuken-sama?" Ayaka asked.

            "Absent the rest of the day," supplied Kodai-Otosan. "Always about his duties, neh. Now more than ever."

            Thinking of the prince, words forsook Ayaka. Do they know what happened? If only I could do something ...

            "So, Lady Soranoyume, have you decided what your answer will be?"          

            "My lord?" She'd been remembering the time the prince swore to her, that as Sword Arm of the South, he would never let the Shogun harm her or her homeland. Now she realized he wished to cement this promise, even if they were not together.

            "Do you agree to the terms of the alliance?" asked Kodai-Otosan.

            Ayaka's lapse of silence surprised her, for she had come with the full intention of accepting the proposal. However, the potential dangers this coalition could awaken suddenly loomed, like the shadows of giant dragons, stretching across the mountains of Isodoro. Whether or not it was the safer move, it was nonetheless a dangerous game she was entering.

            "You will have our pledge," Kodai-Otosan reminded her, "that if Gurinhirizu ever comes under threat, Shenobi will answer."

            It was true, Ayaka and her people would reside under the mutual protection of the Southern Kingdoms. However, if Shenobi or the other houses ever needed Gurinhiruzu's swords, Ayaka would need to fulfill her pledge and send them. Furthermore, swearing fealty to the South would make her opposition against the Shogun clear. For a spell Ayaka gazed at the hazed wall paintings of bamboo, mountains, and waterfalls. In the end, didn't the advantages far outweigh the risks? She deliberated a moment longer, then hardened her resolve.

            "Yes, lord Kodai-Otosan. I agree, completely." She bowed.

            A faint smile lightened the ruler's visage. "Very well. Your signature is all that is required. Of course, it can be formalized now, or at your leisure."

            Sooner was better, Ayaka decided. Kodai-Otosan sent Shinjin, who minutes later returned with a small table, inkbottle, brush, and the document. These were set before her. As Ayaka dipped the brush into the bottle, she knew that for good or ill, there would be no veering aside now. After signing the paper a burden left her shoulders. She wondered if she was more like her late father than she had estimated. As he had done, she now too was defying the East.

            To honor the bond, everyone in attendance was served cups of sake by a young maiko by the name of Reika. They raised their cups, praising the first god, the creator - Izagami-no-Okami.

            "It will be autumn of the following year before you assume full authority of Gurinhirizu," said Kodai-Otosan after the ceremonial toasts had been taken and the cups removed. "Perhaps your uncle, Tayori-sama, could be persuaded to expedite our accord?"

            "I have no doubt he will be of like mind," Ayaka said. "Verily, I intended to send him word anon this meeting."

            "Your intention could be facilitated, if it please you," said Kodai-Otosan. "You can write your letter here, and my scribes will transpose the charter. Both can be copied and sent with several of our finest carrier pigeons before sundown."

            Ayaka agreed, and was provided a blank sheet of mulberry parchment, where she wrote a letter to Tayori, explaining their new political situation.

            Afterwards general Masuro received the parchment. "Welcome to the Southern Kingdoms, Denka Soranoyume," he said, bowing before he rose to depart for the aviary steward and panniers.

            "I would like to thank prince Daisuken," Ayaka said, once the table and writing tools were removed. "Where could I find him?"

            "Training regiments in the surrounding mountains," replied Kodai-Otosan. "Too far an outing for a princess at this hour, I fear. But I shall extend him your gratitude. Of course, you are welcome to the palace whenever you wish. I am sure he would be pleased to see you."

            Strong emotions rose in Ayaka. Before she left Shenobi, she must thank Daisuken in person. At last her duty to her people had been achieved, and he had helped it come true. For the once she could hope that her losses had not been in vain, and that she was joining a greater cause. She humbled herself before Kodai-Otosan again, thanking him many times.

 

            In the afternoon of the next day, Ayaka sought the prince. Unfortunately, by the time she arrived at the palace, one of the servants informed her that Daisuken had already gone to see to the regiments. It was early afternoon still, and so Ayaka wandered pensively through the gardens and the ancient districts of Shenobi. She paused on one of the bridges and let her vision flow into the river. Was the prince avoiding her? Should she seek him out again? Perhaps a message would be better?

            Two or three hours later she stopped at one of the taverns which her friends often visited at this time. Seconds upon entering she noticed something amiss. Usually the atmosphere was lively, patrons chatting and laughing - but all the warmth had bled from the place today. No one smiled, and a few people wiped away tears. Ayaka found Midori and Akemi, with several other acquaintances. Midori was the only one talking, and she did so in  a subdued voice, whilst staring melancholically into a cup of sake. Ayaka had never seen her friends like this before. A sinking feeling affected her stomach.

            "What is wrong?" Ayaka asked, though wary.

            "You haven't heard?" replied Midori, wistful.

            "No," she looked from one of them to the other.

            Akemi looked afraid. She shook her head, muttering, "It's terrible. I can't believe it."

            "Forgive me for being the one to inform you, Denka Soranoyume," the barkeep spoke up. "The news just arrived this hour. It seems there has been a wave of assassinations throughout the South."

            "What? When?" Ayaka asked. "How?"

            "With the start of the New Moon," the barkeep continued. "Shenobi suffered no attempts. From what we've gathered, the targets were located mostly in Eruku and Shinrin." He paused, casting his gaze down. "I'm afraid there have been many victims."

            Ayaka looked around. Midori continued to staring absently into her sake, tears welling in her eyes.

            "Midori, ... what is it?" Ayaka knew there was something more.

            "They killed prince Ryusako," Midori muttered.

            Ayaka was jolted with a coldness. Ryusako was lord Ryudono's only son, and heir to Shinrin. If this was true, the ramifications boded dire. Prince Ryusako was Shenobi's staunchest ally, as Ayaka recalled him attesting when he toasted with Daisuken. His death could change everything.

            "A baleful moon!" a patron lamented behind them in the tavern.

            How did I fail to see something was wrong? Ayaka remembered that on her way to the tavern, some groups of passerby had stopped, conversing oddly, as if worried - but she had been so absorbed in her thoughts she failed to realize.

            "Who could dare do this?" Ayaka demanded.

            The barkeep was pouring sake into another row of cups, including one cup for himself. "Ninja, or so the word is being spread. It's said they scaled the walls of prince Ryusako's castle in the dead of night, and killed everyone inside while they slept."

            Ayaka had sat down with her friends. As if it might change something, she muttered, "But Muraosaki Castle was said to be impenetrable ... "

            Thinking of Rysuako, she vividly remembered how the young handsome prince had stood up for her at the banquet. So alive, always smiling, so calm. Ayaka had come to believe in that confidence. He did not seem someone who could simply die like that, in the apex of his strength and youth. Nonetheless his life had been snuffed out, a flame gone in the dark.

            "The same night simultaneous attempts were made against members of Eruku's royal family," the barkeep told. He finished filling the cups and spread his hands out on the counter. "Luckily, the guardsmen sounded the alarm and fended off the assassins before things could get real ugly."

            "The messengers said all this happened the night before last," joined a tall daiymo man with a black cloth-cap and a graying beard. "I hate to say it, but as far as we know, assassinations were carried out last night as well."

            A group of clientele had gathered nearer to hear. Everyone talked of the same thing. A few raised their voices: "What will Shenobi do?" - "This must be avenged!"

            The grieved conversations went on, but Ayaka heard none of it. A dread numbed her to everything. If powerful lords could be slain, what good was her alliance with the South? Perhaps it worsened things ... A memory thrashed, like an icy wind trying to break free from a lost cavern. Shadows from the past. Suddenly she was there again, nigh ten years ago, back in her family's castle. That morning she had woken earlier than usual, before her parents' servants could hide the ruin. She walked into the room and saw the broken fusuma walls, the splattered sprays of blood, ... and the familiar body lying amid the wreckage. That was the price of standing against the East.

            "They weren't able to capture any assassins. So there's no way to prove who sent them," said the same tall daiymo man. "True ninja leave no clues behind."

            "How in Jigoku do we hit back if we don't even know who is responsible?" one of the patrons threw in.

            "It was the Clan of the Black Hand," said Ayaka, speaking as much to herself as to everyone else. "Kage-maru gave the orders." Her certainty had stilled many in the tavern.

            It could be no one else. And now that the Shogun had acted so boldly, Ayaka doubted anyone in the South was safe.

           

            The initial murders were just the beginning. Over the course of the next few days birds returned with reports heralding a string of separate assassinations being carried out against Southern dignitaries and daiymo. The citizens of Shenobi were appalled, and the disturbing events became a subject broached daily. With things escalating, Ayaka felt the need for her and her friends to stick together, and so they met often, usually in a teahouse or tavern. They would share information with each other; and there was much to speak of.

            The killings were focused primarily in Shinrin and Eruku. The assassins were like wraiths, it was said, emerging from the dark to slay with swift and terrible efficiency before melting back into the night. Thus far the insidious ninjas had left no trace by which to identify them. After attacking they often burned the castles and estates. Although there was no proof, it was widely suspected the degree of lethal perfection could only be the work of the Black Hand. A growing number denounced Kage-maru the author of this bloodshed.

            Stability had been disrupted in Shinrin, Eruku, and neighboring realms. Ayaka heard that Shenobi had deployed units of sword-rangers to counter the assassins. But how could the daiymo feel safe anymore? Prince Ryusako's castle had been a hard to reach place, among the securest and most tightly defended in the South. Across the Southern Kingdoms, regents were bolstering their security as fear and distrust spread. With Ryusako gone, no one knew who the successor would be if Omo Ryudono fell; and there was rumor of division among the nobles. Surely, it would not be long before Shinrin was forced to take action.

 

            Ayaka sought out Daisuken again; regrettably, with recent developments, the prince was more occupied than ever with his duties as Sword Arm. Though the prince was gone, Shinji told her he would be at council later that day. Ayaka chose not to infringe on such important affairs, and perhaps cause him shame before his fellow nobles. She would send a letter instead, thanking him for everything, and wishing him many blessings, ... and something more, ... her feelings? ... No. She mustn't.

            It was dusk when she walked to Danketsu Square. She wanted to join in observance of the Rice Planting Festival's ritual dance. The center focus was honoring Inari-Okami - the goddess of foxes, fertility, tea, rice, sake, and agriculture - in the hope the deity would bless a bountiful harvest all year long. It was a very small event compared to the Spring Festival, though still attracted over a thousand souls to Danketsu Square. Merely five days had passed since Ryusako's death. Was it her imagination, or were the crowds a bit more subdued than they might've elsewise been? The parade-dance consisted mainly of women dressed in white and red robes - Inari's daughters - as well as men wearing conical kasa hats, and holding yellow stalks of rice grass from the previous harvest; they chanted as they went. A group of Dojen priests helped transport a shrine dedicated to Inari-Okami. Others in long robes wore white fox masks; these were the goddess's children who had shape-shifted into kitsunes. Ayaka rather wished she had the power to turn into a fox too. Light might be easier.

            While watching the dance progress, Ayaka chanced upon general Masuro, accompanied by his retainers. Through the exchanging of bows and cordialities, Ayaka perceived Masuro's grim demeanor. He told her they were on their way to the Phoenix Chamber. Ayaka knew it served as Shenobi's primary place of council. At first she wasn't sure she should inquire, remembering the alliance however, she thought it in her reach. 

            "It is not good news," Masuro said.   

            What can be worse than what's already happening? "If permitted, I would hear it."

            "You would learn soon enough one way or another, Denka. I will tell you. Carrier pigeons arrived ere three hours, bearing missives from lord Ryudono." Masuro gave a wry grin that was almost equal parts grimace. "With what has befallen him, I cannot blame Ryudono. But it appears the plot these craven assassins have sown is finally slithering to light, and an ugly creature it is."

            Ayaka waited, bracing herself for where this discourse would lead.

            "The rampant murders have roused Shinrin to mobilize its armies. Lord Ryudono wants vengeance for his son, ... yet I am wary he is playing right into the enemy's hands. His council is on the brink of approbating war against Fumei-noyorou. Whether this comes to pass or no, they mean to march on the Silver River, and send units across to hunt the ninja."

            Ayaka needed no explanation of the entailed repercussions. According to the treaty Daisuken had won, if any Southern house dispatched forces across the Silver River, the treaty would be abolished. What more, in the eyes of imperial law, the South would be the aggressor, thus providing the Shogun the perfect gambit to march his hosts to the eastern border. And if Shinrin plunged into conflict, Eruku would be the first to follow into the maelstrom."

            After bidding farewell to the general, Ayaka returned to the inn to speak with Noribuko.

            "I have to do something," said Ayaka. "I know Gurinhiruzu's forces are small, but Shinrin is now one of our allies."

            "Are you out of your mind? No. It's safer to wait and see what Shenobi does. We'd be wise to follow their lead."

            "I should return to Gurinhiruzu at once," Ayaka said." If things get worse, I have to be there to help make decisions."

            "Maybe yes, but I'm not that confident it's safe to travel just now. First we'd have to hire a company of retainers to guard our caravan along the way."

            Ayaka knew there was no way around that. And with the shadows on the loose, she also had to consider whether she was safer in Shenobi, or Kenkoya Castle. If the Black Hand sent for her, would her guardsmen be able to repel them when prince Ryusako and all the might of Muromoasaki Castle had failed?

            "Until then, maybe its time we hired several personal retainers to accompany you here in the city," suggested Noribuko, "and wherever you go, at all times."

            "Why? The ninja have not struck this far South. They wouldn't dare."

            "Not yet. But by the time we learn if they plan to do so, it will likely already be too late."

 

            It was close to two weeks since Ayaka last saw Daisuken.

            Walking along the Sukai's banks on her way back to Shenobi, she squinted into the fiery beams of the westering sun. Amid the glow she saw two riders crest a hill, both in crimson armor. Over the rise, further back, she descried stationary columns of Hiryu riders; several thousand spears, she estimated. Vaguely, she saw one of the two riders on the hill nearby was Masuro, the other Daisuken. The general remained atop the crest while the prince rode down to her. The large suchiru-doragon katana was strapped to Daisuken's back, and in the crook of his arm he bore his lightening-bolted helmet.

            When closer, she saw his countenance was no longer illumed by the good cheer she'd become familiar with. The cloud of solemnity made her uneasy.

            “You don’t have to go," she said, looking up at him and pleading.

            “It is my duty,” he answered. “I came only to say farewell, Ayaka Soranoyume. I wished for you to be last person I saw before I left.”

            “Please, Daisuken-sama, don’t go. Who knows what the Shogun will do next."

            "That matters nothing. Nigh Shinrin's entire forces march on the Silver River. I will try to convince lord Ryudono not to cross the Eastern border, but if he does, I am fully prepared to support our allies. Perhaps it is time to end the reign of this eastern dog."

            "Cross into the East?" It was tantamount to suicide. "How could be you be so foolish! You don't even have all of the Hiryu with you, let alone the other divisions."

            "Lord Kodai-Otosan is not prepared to commit our numbers yet. But seven thousand will be sufficient. Every Phoenix samurai fights for ten men."

            "You can't go into the East!" She clasped her hands together. "Promise me you won't."

            “I am sorry. The battlefield is all I was born for. To fight, year after year, to know nothing but war and bloodshed. That is my karma. It matters nothing." After a brief silence, he added, “Farewell Ayaka Soranoyume. I go, for I must, but my love stays with you.”

            Daisuken wheeled his black horse and started away.

            Ayaka had a prescience that if she didn’t do something, he might very well not come back, but instead seek a death in battle worthy of the bushido code.

            “Wait!” she ran after his horse. 

            He halted, half turning, and looked down to her.

            “If you must go, then take this with you.” From within her kimono she produced a length of silk. She had dyed it a lush violet, and it shimmered in the last sunlight. “It’s a protective obi. I meant to give it to you before, but couldn’t find you. Please, tie it around your waist so it may safeguard you."

            He received the sash and tucked it under his red plated armor. “Thank you, Ayaka Soranoyume." He nodded reverently. "It is a worthy gift.”

            She kissed the bracer of his leg armor, and held his hand, not wanting to let go. When at last he went, she did not follow as the fierce steed bore him away.

            "Daisuken!" she cried.

            He looked back. 

            “I will wait for you,” she vowed. “Here, by the river, everyday until you come back.”

            He nodded. In his eyes the brightness of affection had been rekindled a moment, like the glimmer of a precious memory.

            His tone was more familiar, “I shall return, Ayaka Soranoyume, and you shall be the first person I see when I do.”

            The prince of Shenobi kicked the stirrups and the jet horse leapt up the slope, to join Masuro. Before turning, the general raised his spear in salute to Ayaka. Then they rode eastward, over the next hill, unto the attending ranks of mounted samurai. When Daisuken and Masuro rejoined them, the thousands of warriors raised their tall yari-spears, unifying their voices in a thunderous cry - “Yahhh!” - their echoes struck the hilltops; and as the columns moved out, the rumble of horses carried wide and far.

 

            Spring unfurled, like a leaf receiving the bounteous sunshine. Though the season was more beautiful than ever, a pall had been cast. Everyday Ayaka listened for word from the east. None came. Many moons of journeyed distance separated her and the prince. She did not understand why she felt a part of her had gone with him, and now could not be found. To occupy her mind, she worked longer at the silk house, dying silk, weaving textile, and doing whatever chores or errands presented themselves.

            Because the palace servant Shinji sought her on behalf of Missa Nightingale, Ayaka went to see the geisha. Missa was glad to see her, and they recommenced her instruction on several occasions, and partook of the tea ceremony with other daiymo women, but more often they were alone. Ayaka sensed the geisha wanted to comfort her, or perhaps to distract both of them from events. They only practiced a little, and Ayaka had a difficult time concentrating and finding the inspiration to sing or do anything of the sort when inwardly she prayed for the safety of the prince, and the wellbeing of the Southern Kingdoms.

            After Daisuken and the Hiryu had departed, reports continued arriving of further assassinations. It surprised Ayaka how oblivious much of the populace managed to carry on, going about their routines as if nothing out of the ordinary were befalling. The rich daiymo women, promenading with their parasols, appeared more concerned with their raiment and hairstyles than a looming war. A small consolation was a drop in the number of murdered - probably since every lord in the South had now prepared for the ninja - and also that no attempts had trespassed within Shenobi's borders. Regardless, this did not instill Ayaka with any confidence about what the Black Hand were capable of, and might yet do.

            One day by the river, she picked up a branch. It was similar in length and weight to a katana. While holding it in her hands, uncle Tayori's swordsmanship lessons returned to her. She assumed a mid-level grip, wielding the branch vertically. Her heart was confused. Whatever she did from now on, wherever she went, the shadow of the ninja haunted her paths. Perhaps she would only remain in Shenobi until the crisis east was resolved. None of the paths were clear anymore, yet no matter where they took her, she determined her father's fate would never be hers. Gripping the stick firmly, she heard Tayori's instructions echo from the past. She meditated on them, breathing, before raising the stick in a high-level grip, poised for attack, and suddenly swinging.

            When back at the lodgings, Noribuko noticed her brooding, for Ayaka had forgotten what she was doing, and merely sat, hugging her knees, looking downwards.

            “The prince loves you, and I know you like him well enough," her aunt said. "When he comes back, you must let him know.” Noribuko shook her head. “Don’t you know most young women never have a choice? What a luxury to pick and choose as you do. Think about it. If you reside in Kenkoya Castle, you will be far from support. But if you marry Daisuken, everything will change for the better. You’ll never have to worry about the future again. And it would make your parents in heaven so proud.”

            Marriage was not at the fore of Ayaka’s thoughts, nor long fairytale-happy lives. Her ruminations were plagued by battles raging in unknown, misted forests. In the weeks that followed, news from disquieting reports circulated; one, unconfirmed howbeit, that near the Silver River a fray had been fought between Southern and Eastern forces. At the tavern, market, and other places she went, folk were having a harder time downplaying the gravity of circumstances. Ayaka could no longer bare it, and went to Kin'yoku-inja Temple to ask Enzen for guidance, and find some peace in the zendo gardens. The old yoku master told her to trust in karma, and remember not to hold too dearly to the temporal. It was sage counsel, but Ayaka found it hard to meditate, for her thoughts searched for the prince, and the myriad of enemies prowling closer to the Southern Kingdoms.

            The possibility of death was too real. Ayaka knew the thief it was. Once Daisuken came back, alive, she'd think clearer. Then she could tell him,… tell him what? She still didn’t know. At the end probably she’d go back to Guirinhiruzu. Until she saw him again though, and made certain he was alright, she would go nowhere.

            While the days passed waiting for him, doubts about her future grew. Before going to bed she looked at the origami swan by her window, with a backdrop of stars faraway over the city roofs. Reminded of the fragility of life, she reflected on many things. Thus she prayed into the night, until falling into the dark, surreal arms of sleep.

 

            Summer was ushered by generous warmth, and the hues of spring seeped, like watercolors blending into a beige canvas. Blue and pink-orange irises budded, as well as red azaleas. Skylarks and wrens added their song to the canopies and across fields of lavender. Flocks of hyokken ducks had arrived from the Far North. As daylight increased, the crops flourished. During the hottest hours of the day people no longer walked so far, nor worked so hard, spending greater time indoors instead, sipping cooled teas. The occasional breeze off lake Seinaru provided some respite, but the air sweltered mostly. Nigh everyone carried a fan, and every daimyo woman a parasol. The nights were fresh, and it was then that fireflies danced in the tall grass by the brooks. One evening Ayaka and Harumi caught a couple of the glowworms. They marveled at the miniature lambent orbs cupped in the palms of their hands, before eventually releasing the fairy lights back into the night.         

            When Ayaka took breaks from the silk house at midday, she wandered in the breathless calm. Such a season could lower one's guard; but Ayaka did not fool herself. She continued to pray to Amaterasu and the First Gods to protect Daisuken and his warriors. There were places in the countryside where multitudes of cicadas sibilated incessantly to one another. After offering supplications, Ayaka would rest in one of the meadows, the sound of cicadas lulling her into a dazed nap of indistinct dreams.

 

            It was an afternoon in early June, the month of lilacs, when the Hiryu samurai division returned, led by Daisuken.

            The prince left his horse by the willows, and strode through the rustling grass. Ayaka dropped the basket she had been taking to the silk house. She wanted to run to him, but stood, waiting until he was before her. Gently, she touched his face, making sure he wasn't hurt. The prince looked in perfect health. Nothing was she had feared.

            "I am so happy to see you again, Daisuken-sama." She bowed, trying to stay composed, then throwing her arms around him.

            "I told you, Ayaka Soranoyume," the prince said, placing a hand on her back, "that you would be the first person I saw when I returned."

            After reentering Shenobi and handling state affairs, Daisuken came back to find her the next day. They walked together. On account of the heat, he had had his armor set in the weaponry vaults, and wore an azureous robe, with the violet silk obi Ayaka had given him tied around his waist

            “It availed me,” he said, referring to the sash. “It appears I am indebted to you.”

            "It is I whom am indebted to you, Daisuken sama," Ayaka responded. She had donned a white kimono, and carried a pink umbrella. She bowed to him. "I wanted to thank you personally, for convincing your esteemed father, to allow Gurinhirizu to enter alliance. You have the fealty of my samurai, as well as my gratitude, now, and forever."

            Daisuken smiled. "You see. The South is stronger together. I feel better knowing Shenobi can count Gurinhirizu among its allies."

            As they walked, Ayaka provided shade for Daisuken with her parasol.

            “Finding you is like reaching an oasis in a harsh desert,” he said later, while they strolled under the dappled shade of birch trees near the river. She studied his handsome, roughhewn profile. He remained strong as ever. The only sign his stint afield had had any effect was a slight weariness.

            "Kage-maru answered by marching a large host into the Mujin-chitai region," Daisuken recounted events as they meandered. "By the time we reached lord Ryudono and his men, Eruku's divisions had already joined Shinrin's. You would have seen it. The host assembled was an impressive sight.

            "For three days we camped less than five ri from the Eastern army, always ready to commit our forces if the horns sounded. On the third day Kage-maru sent an emissary, bearing the message that the Shogun was willing to continue honoring the treaty, and even allow regulated units to cross into the Misuto Forests to hunt for the assassins, so long as all our forces withdrew from the Silver River. It took some convincing from me and Masuro. I had to promise lord Ryudono more sword-rangers, but finally he came around. After that we parleyed with a delegation of Eastern representatives, and then Kage-maru turned his hordes back into their fog shrouded domain."

            "I must congratulate you, Daisuken-sama," said Ayaka. "You have won the South a magnificent victory, again."

            "I am not certain anyone in particular deserves praise. Probably it was our support that gave the Shogun pause. Seeing the banner of the Kyojin-Phoenix surely had something to do with swaying his appetite for battle. Now he knows our vows are not mere words, that Shenobi is willing to stand beside its ancestral allies."

            For a piece further, Daisuken frowned, until little by little the summer sunshine gentled away the worries that had burdened him. He breathed the fresh air and sighed. Ayaka sensed his relief. It had indeed been a close thing. Preparations for battle had been made in full, yet with neither side was willing to take the irreversible steps, a tentative peace succeeded. Nevertheless, Eruku and Shinrin were guarding their borders, like packs of growling wolves. The menace to this truce was only tempered by the tranquility of summer.

            Amid this reprieve, Ayaka and the prince walked at their leisure, freer to appreciate the day. Afternoon light sparkled on the river. Across fields of grain, barley and alfalfa, a group of nomin kids practiced flying colorful kites in preparation for the Midsummer Festival.

            “I was not sure you would want to see me again,” Daisuken said.

            “Of course I wanted to see you.” A short ways further Ayaka loosened her kimono above her breasts to reveal the necklace he’d gifted her during the Spring Festival. Te mizu-quartsel gleamed, and Daisuken raised his eyebrows.            

            “I’ve worn it everyday since you left,” she said.

            Ayaka had imagined he would be better pleased, but Daisuken seemed weighed with a tiredness of mind, as of body.

             “What say you we sit by the waters, on the fountain-grass," he suggested. "I have hardly had a chance for respite. Never a moment to do nothing, to simply be.”

            As he relaxed, gazing at the flowing Sukai, he found it easier to address what still troubled him:

            “People are quick to proclaim resolution. They do not see that this cessation of hostilities is only a short standstill. The blades are sheathed, yet the duel has begun.” He shook his head. “This serenity we share, Ayaka Soranoyume, here at the river's shores, it is as ephemeral as the irises in the field.”

            “One shouldn’t place their thoughts ever in the future, Daisuken-sama, nor in the past for that matter.” Ayaka stroked his lined, sunburned brow. “If this season of peace is to be short-lived, then let it be appreciated, deeply. Who knows if in the end all your worries are for naught, and the future will be kind to us all.”

            Daisuken's smile was forlorn. “It seems where everything else fails, you quell the war I carry in me." He contemplated the translucent shores. "You sooth me, like these waters. Perhaps I am the Dragon of Fire, and you are the Dragon of Water, of merciful rain?” He paused, as if remembering something from long ago. “Together, perhaps, things would turn out for the better. You balance me, Ayaka Soranoyume, and make me clearer of mind. With you at my side I would not fear the future. I would be strengthened to face whatever it holds.”

            He turned to her, giving her a searching look. “What do you say of such a future, one we could share together?” He swallowed, clearing his throat, gathering his courage. “Would you not be my wife, Ayaka Soranoyume?”

            She held his gaze before shifting it back to the river, watching the water churn over the smooth stones. Was this love? Asking the question seemed to negate the answer. But did it matter if it was love? Had she not reached the stage in her life when certain ordained steps needed to be taken? Something did unite them, stronger than a bond of friendship, a genuine caring, a sentiment of tenderness. But greater than any feeling was the empathy she harbored him. He might not believe in the Seishin-yodo, or the gods - save for a small, hope - and yet but he had promised she would be free to seek out her karma. The prince's faith was broken, and Ayaka thought maybe she could help him heal, become whole. And he did love her. It was in his eyes. The way he waited anxiously as she deliberated, his hopes set before her like all the shards of one’s life. He needs me. All he’d known was war. Not enough comfort, softness, sweetness. Someone had to steady him, to help him see that more existed than the way of the warrior. 

            But the question returned - Did she love him?

            No, she admitted. Not in the way she’d envisioned one must love another to commit their entire life to that person. While he had been gone Ayaka had pondered this dilemma deeply. The time had come to give a definitive answer.

            Perhaps it was hidden in the river? As in losing oneself in contemplations of the water, so could the flow carry one. As long as one didn’t struggle, the journey could be gentle. She could become part of it, and perhaps find the freedom she’d always sought - the water, like the touch of silk, imbued with all kindness she would ever need. 

            Ayaka took a deep breath, as if preparing to plunge into this metaphorical river.

            She looked at him. Afar the birds chirped in the conifers.

            With a smile, she nodded. “Yes."

            She had said it quietly, and so she spoke it again, with conviction. "Yes, Daisuken-sama, I wish to marry you, to be your wife."

            Despite her hesitancy, now that Ayaka made up her mind, she felt lighter, especially at seeing Daisuken’s expression. By and by, the prince appeared as though he’d been healed of a malady of the soul which had afflicted him perhaps his entire life.

            He stood up, as did Ayaka, and he embraced her. She felt his happines, and in turn it became her own. Daisuken kissed her, and she kissed him. They looked into each other’s eyes, and began to laugh at the unexpected swell of joy. From the field nearby, he picked a purple iris and gifted it to her.

            "Thank you," she said.

            “I truly love you, Ayaka Soranoyume."

            “I love you too,” she stammered; but after voicing the words, as if they carried a magic, she realized it was true - she did love him.

            Unable to contain his rejoicing he picked her up. Ayaka held onto to him as they spun around through the fields, under the extending blue skies. The umbrella she’d been carrying fell from her hand, tumbling gently away with the wind, until coming to rest upon the rippling sea of summer grass.  

            “I will make you happy, my beautiful swan," he said. "You will see, I swear it by the heavens.”

            “You already have made me happy, Daisuken-sama," Ayaka said. She caressed his face with both hands.

            He laid her on a yielding bed of fountain grass. There they would lay for hours, the music of the river beside them, and the cicadas enveloping the distance. He leaned his body over hers as they kissed, and together, they fell deeper and deeper into the silken depths of each other’s acceptance. 

 

Author's Note

Reviews

[C. Rose]

I found Ayaka's emotion hesitancy fascinating and enjoyable. Yet another chapter that proves this is definitely not a “Twilight” or “Disney” overly simplified romance.

(followings weeks)
(The prince had returned after almost an entire month.) - In this position, this sentence feels like an understatement and lacking emotion. Consider placing this sentence after the next sentence which shows Ayaka's emotion.
(everything would be ok) – spell out (okay).
(After the price returned things...) - This felt abrupt. Consider adding a touch more dialogue before moving on.
(brume) – what's a brume?
(less it might) – I'm not sure, but maybe this should be (lest it might).
((I don't know if I can be that person.)) - this is the first time I noticed you use parentheses like this. I'm not sure what they are supposed to imply. It stood out as strange formatting to me.
(for most part) – (for the most part).
(his entire life ) – missing period.

[Kuandio]

Thanks again. I can't believe I left parenthesis in there, that was a total mistake. I use parenthesises a lot while writing, but every now and then I don't catch one before posting.
I was a little worried that this chapter was too long? Comparing this, to "The Street of a Thousand Cherry Trees" chapter, which was the one before last, do you think it was a good idea to include that last chapter that is in between, the "Kuroi-te Clan" (the one about ninjas). I know that was the worse chapter so far, but if it was well revised, do you think it's inclusion at this point in the story aids adding tension and reminding the reader of another dimension of the story?
Thanks so much for reading! The next chapter and every one after that, things really start happening!

[C. Rose]

In my opinion - both the Kenjin chapter and Kuroi-te Clan chapter are not needed. It feels like a loose end that Kenjin was developed and has yet to join the plot. The reader understands the violence on the horizon due to the tension in the city without needing to take a side tour with Kenjin. The same goes for the ninja gathering.
However, that is just my opinion. If I was you I would wait for more opinions before taking anything out - because maybe other readers need the bites of action to keep them reading.

I have a possible solution. What if you condensed the non-Ayaka chapters?
(Assuming that the ninja and Kenjin aren't important characters in their own right, which I don't know because I haven't read the whole book) You could include more restrained segments. For example, it seems to me that the purpose of the Kenjin chapter is to show that Kage-waru is amassing forces. Perhaps a fly by would suffice.The same goes for the ninja chapter. As I understand it, the important point is that the ninjas are now involved. Another fly by, catching a bit of dialogue and the ninja's dispersing would convey this point, without creating a significant perspective character.

I feel a bit hypocritical recommending you tone down the perspective shifts considering the perhaps inherently flawed quantity of perspectives in The Betrayed Traitor. :D :P