Spirit's Chosen (30 page)

I cocked my head. “Master Rinji, are you this obliging to every Ookami slave?”

My question flustered him. “I—I find it difficult to think of you as a slave, Himiko. Lady Sato doesn’t fear slaves.”

“Lady Sato doesn’t need to fear me, either. I would never curse a child, not even the child of the man who killed so many of my kin.”

“Well … 
she
would.” He gave me a hesitant smile. “She left you in my care because you’re a shaman, not because you’re a slave. I don’t believe I need to perform any kind of rite to protect Lord Ryu’s child from you, but I must honor my word. I hope I will be able to do it quickly enough
so that the experience won’t be too drawn out or tedious for you.”

I laughed. “While I’m here, I’m free. Take your time.”

Rinji was very shy, but the longer we spent together, the more outgoing he became. He brought me into the larger of the two curtained chambers, where he gathered together the necessary ingredients for the ritual he’d promised Lady Sato. My heart lifted with joy to find myself once again surrounded by the tools of my calling. I was familiar with everything he would need for casting such a spell and began lending him a hand without asking his permission. He did not object. In fact, he seemed relieved to have my help. As we worked side by side, he began chatting happily about the years he had spent as an apprentice, and of how his one dream was to see Master Daimu’s return.

“I’m glad to hear that your clan won’t object to having two shamans,” I said, recalling the ploys Master Michio and I had had to use to conceal my status as his equal.

“Oh, that’s not going to happen,” Rinji said with a shrug. “When Master Daimu returns, everything will go back to being the way it was before he left.”

“You mean you’ll be nothing more than his apprentice again?” I was taken aback. “Won’t you miss being your own master and having your clan’s respect as a shaman in your own right?”

“Miss it? I’d welcome the change with open arms!” His cheerful tone vanished. “Why did Master Daimu have to go? There was so much he didn’t have the chance to teach me before he left! He claimed that I was smart enough to
be able to fill in the gaps myself by studying the things I
did
know, but he put too much faith in me.”

He gestured at the bundles of dried herbs and the other ingredients for potions and poultices. “I know how to seek out all the right plants and how to prepare them properly. It’s the one part of my calling that I love beyond all others. When I’m in the forest or walking along the side of the fields, seeking roots and flowers and seeds, I’m at peace. I feel so much satisfaction every time I mix a new batch of medicine, because I know that the work of my hands will relieve pain, cure an illness, or even prevent one.”

I nodded. “I know what you mean, Master Rinji. The spirits have been generous to us, filling this world with the means to heal our sicknesses and injuries.”

“The spirits … Master Daimu talked about them all the time. He spoke as though they were always within reach of his voice. He could hear them, see them, walk with them.” Rinji looked at me with sad eyes. “He told me that I would be able to do the same, someday, but that day never came. The spirits shun me, Himiko. They prove it by making me look like a bumbling fool whenever I try to call upon them to bless our clan, to help our dead find eternal rest, or to guide me through a healing. I would have given up many seasons ago, but Lord Ryu encourages me and Master Daimu will cast me aside if he returns to find that I abandoned our people. How can I let them down? But how can I go on pretending to be something I’m not?” His voice rose, impassioned. “What good does it do to have the best medicines if you lack the skill to use them? What’s the use of being a shaman in name only, when your people need help, not make-believe?”

He suddenly realized what he was confessing and looked away, embarrassed. “Did you need proof of how much the spirits despise me?” he said with an awkward laugh. “They loosened my lips so that I’ve humiliated myself before—before—”

“Before a slave?” I laid one hand lightly on his arm. “But you said you don’t think of me that way. I am a shaman, like you. I will seal away everything you told me just as you will perform the rite to seal Ryu’s unborn child from harm.”

His thin mouth twisted into a self-mocking smile. “You’ll do the better job of it.”

To be a shaman is to be a healer. To be a healer is to share the sufferer’s pain so that you feel driven to end it, but not all pain afflicts the body. I knew what I had to do.

“Master Rinji, would your teacher ever have accepted you as his apprentice if he thought you were unworthy of becoming a shaman?” I asked.

He thought about it, then slowly shook his head.

“Then hear me, please: my brother Masa is a blacksmith. When he began his apprenticeship it only took him ten days before he could use all of his master’s tools, but that didn’t mean he was ready to forge a sword. He had the talent; he needed his teacher’s guidance to show him how to
use
that talent.” I tightened my hold on his arm. “Your teacher was called away before he could finish your training. You don’t know when he will return. My training as a shaman is complete …” I paused, knowing the full significance of what I was about to suggest, feeling uncertain about going on.

“You … would teach me?” Hope and possibility lit Rinji’s face.

“If you wouldn’t consider it dishonorable to learn from a captive,” I said, pleased that my misgivings were groundless.

He seized my hands and pressed them to his chest. “Dear Lady Himiko, it would be the greatest honor in the world!”

Before we could begin planning how I could continue Rinji’s training without anyone finding out, he had to cast the spell he had promised Lady Sato. We agreed that he would not attempt to build a wall around my powers but instead would petition the spirits to shield Chizu’s infant from
all
harm until the day he was born.

It proved to be a dreadfully unimpressive display of the shaman’s art but an excellent opportunity for me to observe where Rinji’s strengths and weaknesses lay. He knew all of the steps of the ritual and performed them meticulously, but he sounded like a small child reciting words he did not understand. There was no heart in his chanting, no emotion in the movements of his dance. When he struck the sacred bronze bell to conclude the ceremony, it made a hollow, wooden
thunk
instead of a deep, resonant chime.

“How was that?” he asked when he was done.

“We have work to do,” I admitted.

“A lot?” He looked dejected and ready to hear the worst.

“Not as much as you might expect,” I said tactfully. “You are like a good, sturdy house that only needs a new roof to be perfect.”
A roof and a fire on the hearth
, I thought. When Rinji had performed the rite, the air within the shrine remained lifeless; the spirits he sought were still far beyond his reach.

Rinji and I schemed out the best way for me to become his secret teacher. It proved to be remarkably simple: Lady Sato longed for the days when she had commanded a whole household of slaves; Rinji had them. Her greed and envy showed plainly in her eyes when he brought me back to the chieftain’s house and claimed his people.

“Are you
sure
you’ve done everything possible to protect my grandchild?” she demanded. “I told you not to hurry. In fact”—an unpleasantly insinuating tone slithered into her voice—“why don’t you have the girl stay with you overnight? Don’t you deserve to have someone young and pretty waiting on you for a change? And she carries herself so elegantly! Even with that bad leg of hers, she manages to move gracefully. It’s a pleasure to watch her; a pleasure you should enjoy for as long as you like, dear Master Rinji.”

“Er, thank you, Lady Sato, but I would not want to annoy Lord Ryu by taking his property without his permission, especially overnight,” Rinji replied.

“Never mind
him;
he hasn’t touched her!” Lady Sato snapped. “Take her away with you now, before he comes home. Once he sees how comfortable it is to have the servants that
should
be ours, he won’t raise a peep of protest.”

Rinji shook his head. “I don’t want to antagonize my chieftain.”

“Do you
hear
yourself, you infant?” There was no more
dear Master Rinji
. “A
real
man wouldn’t think twice about the consequences for keeping this girl!”

“Please let me finish, Lady Sato,” the young shaman said. “I am as eager to enjoy more of La—of Himiko’s company as any man, but I’d rather do it without stirring up
needless problems. Send her to me on those days when Lord Ryu will not notice her absence and I will send you my people in exchange.”

Lady Sato stopped glowering and became attentive. “Your slaves are not invisible and this village is full of gossips. How will we excuse this arrangement?”

“You will make a sacred vow to have your girl tend the shrine once every five days in exchange for the wolf spirit’s favor and blessing on your unborn grandchild. I will accept this, but I will also take pity on you—a venerable noblewoman and her pregnant daughter-in-law forced to shoulder the girl’s chores. For that reason I will send you
my
servants whenever you send me yours. The wolf spirit will be satisfied and the gossips can chew on their own tongues. Agreed?” He gave her an innocent smile.

“Why, dear, dear Master Rinji, you astonish me! I had no idea you were so clever.”

The young shaman looked my way. “I can be clever enough with the right inspiration.”

“Well, what do you know?” Lady Sato leered. “The fox cub has teeth after all!”

I did not have to pretend to blush.

I spent the rest of the summer and autumn tossed this way and that between doing what I loved best and toiling through mindless labor that sapped my strength and my spirit. During the four days when I was condemned to serve under Ryu’s roof I found my waking moments gradually taken over by black thoughts: had Kaya reached my village safely? Had she been able to convince the elders to hold off on my
mother’s punishment? If so, how long would they be willing to wait before deciding that I was never going to return? Or had they already carried out the sentence? Was Mama alive or dead? I did not dare turn to the spirit world for an answer, afraid of what I might learn, afraid that I might lose the gods’ tenuous favor for trying to find out something I was not supposed to know.

Every fifth day saved me. I woke up joyful, my mind free of everything but happy anticipation. Sometimes I was wakened by a ferocious hug from Noboru. We were allowed and encouraged to be together on days when I went to the shrine. Lady Sato was always in such a good mood, looking forward to being mistress of six slaves instead of one, that she became extremely charitable toward my little brother and me.

On those mornings, I had a special ritual to follow, one that had nothing to do with the spirits. First I served the family breakfast, cleaned up after the meal, and stepped out onto the house platform to scan the village. Ryu had to leave before I could do this, but he was not the only person who had to be out of the way. After the field workers, slave and free, went out to tend the flourishing crops, there were not many people left except the old, the ill, and mothers of young children who were usually too busy to grow meddlesome. The fewer eyes to see me go to the shrine, the fewer tongues to wag about it.

Of course it was impossible to dodge
every
witness. Luckily, Lady Sato had a way of extinguishing any spark of gossip before it started a blaze. She didn’t want her son hearing about her six-slaves-for-one arrangement. The busybody
who tried spreading scandal about “Master Rinji’s shameful infatuation with a mere
slave
” soon got a visit from Lady Sato. I don’t know what she said or did to stamp out the tale-bearing, but it worked!

The hardest part of my cherished fifth days was forcing myself to
walk
to the shrine. I wanted to grow a hawk’s wings and fly! It was a pleasure to teach Rinji. He was a wise and willing student, eager to perfect his skills as a shaman. I had never been a teacher until now, and I found that I loved it. When I was Yama’s student, there were some lessons that were harder to learn than others, but a source of immense satisfaction when I conquered them. When Rinji mastered a new skill thanks to my instruction, I felt an even greater sense of triumph.

The harvest season drew near. Daylight faded earlier and nights became more chill. The fireflies winked out one by one, gone until summer came again. I prayed that the next time I saw their tiny lights it would be from the platform of my own house, Mama alive and well beside me, Noboru in her arms.

Crops ripened in the field and the people reaped them, singing. The air grew thick with the dust and chaff of grain being threshed. Chizu’s belly began to “show” the slightest bit, yet enough to attract countless women, young and old, who filled her ears with stories of childbirth. Most of them wanted her to be reassured about what lay ahead, but there were always some who took twisted delight in scaring the timid young woman with exaggerated tales of agony and tragedy.

“What’s
wrong
with those people?” I complained to
Rinji during one of our lessons. I was seated on the floor of the shrine, waiting for him to demonstrate the thanksgiving dance he would perform for the gods as part of the autumn festival. “I wish I could sneak into every last one of their houses and fill their water pots with frogs!”

He chuckled. “What’s stopping you?”

“I’d run out of frogs.”

“Would you like me to do something about it?” he offered. “I know how to brew a potion that makes a person’s stomach … loose. If you tell me who’s been upsetting Lady Chizu, I’ll find a way to add a bit of that potion to their drinking water, and then—”

“—and then their whole family will suffer. Really, Master Rinji, sometimes you sound just like a bad little boy.” I tried to frown, but it turned into a giggle.

He laughed with me, then became serious. “Is that how you see me, Lady Himiko? As a little boy?”