Spirit's Chosen (38 page)

The noise of early revelry did not have any effect on my beloved. He looked oddly distracted and mournful.
Perhaps he hasn’t heard the good news about Chizu’s son
, I thought, but even after I told him, he remained distant, his mind elsewhere. All through dinner, Ashi and the other servants chatted happily with me about the birth, but he remained closed in on himself, picking at his food.

I waited until we were left alone for the night before I chose to deal with what was wrong. “Where are they?” I asked bluntly.

My question took him by surprise. “They? What ‘they’ are you talking about?”

“The herbs. The flowers. The roots. You told me you were going into the forest to find new ingredients for our remedies. You came home empty-handed.”

A wistful smile curved his lips. “You are too observant and too clever, Himiko. I should have known better than to try lying to you.”

“Is the truth you’re hiding from me such an awful thing?”

“Not at all. It’s just that I’ve gotten into the habit of concealing this from the rest of my clan. You see, when I was a little boy, my uncle went away.” His smile deserted him entirely as he spoke on. “Went away … that’s what I was told. When I was older, I learned the real story: he had been exiled from the clan for a great crime.”

“What was it?”

“Being different. Being so different that the wolves—the brave,
brave
wolves were afraid of him. He’s a big man, a giant, very strong, but he can act as impetuously and uncontrollably as a child. My mother told me how hard it was to speak with him and be understood. His mind didn’t work quickly enough to satisfy those who didn’t love him.

“But
I
loved him.” Tears brimmed in Daimu’s eyes. “He was always kind to me. I missed him. That’s why, as soon as I was old enough, I went into the mountains and found him. I can’t tell you how happy I was to see that he was still alive and well, able to survive in the wilderness. And he remembered me, even though I was grown up! I told
him that I had become the Ookami shaman and had the power to bring him home again, but he also remembered the cruel treatment he’d gotten from our clan. I couldn’t overcome his fear, so I told him I would come back to see him often.”

My pulse was beating rapidly at the base of my throat.
A big man, a giant, very strong, too different to be tolerated in this cowardly village … Mori! No … no, it mustn’t be him. O gods, please let Daimu be speaking of some other man!

“Is that where you were today?” I asked, dreading the answer. “With your uncle?” My hands curled tight as I willed him to say
Yes, and it was very good to see him alive and well
.

Instead, what I heard was: “That was my plan. I go back every spring, to see how he’s getting along and to ask if he needs anything. I’d visit him more often, but he begged me not to do it. He was afraid our clanfolk would find out and trouble him more than they already did. Some of our young men think it’s great fun to track down my poor uncle and torment him, can you imagine that?”

I could, much too easily. I said nothing.

“I was very eager to see him again,” Daimu went on. “I almost didn’t leave on my pilgrimage, because I was worried about him. I begged him to come away with me, but he refused. New things terrified him. When I offered to stay, he insisted that I go and swore he would be all right in my absence. He had great faith in the spirits; I suppose that’s because he lived so close to so many of them, up there in the forest. But when I went seeking him today, I couldn’t find him in any of his usual haunts. I’m going to go back
tomorrow and try again. Maybe he moved farther up the mountain. I only hope—”

“You will not find him,” I said, and told him of his gentle uncle’s fate. I spoke without emotion, as if I were recounting one of the ancient stories about the gods. I did not dare do otherwise or grief would choke me. “He was a brave man, Daimu. You say he was afraid to return to this place, but when I told him about Noboru, he didn’t hesitate: he went into the village, into Ryu’s own house, and brought my little brother to me. Your uncle had a hero’s heart.”

“If that is so, it must have been slumbering for a long time,” Daimu said. “Something awakened it. I think it was you.” Before I could deny it, he went on: “I knew my uncle very well. I told you he feared change, so what would have the force to make him set aside his old, deeply rooted terror of the village in order to go down there and rescue your little brother from Ryu’s control? Do not discount your powers of persuasion and command, Himiko. I believe you have the gift to charm people with a greater magic than any shaman has ever mastered. The gods alone know what you will achieve with such a gift someday.”

“If I do have such powers, why can’t I use them on Ryu?” I asked.

Daimu looked grim. “Because your enchantments touch the heart, and he has none.”

All that night, he did not sleep. Grief transformed his bedroll into a nest of thorns. He sat beside it, murmuring prayers. I urged him to rest, but it was no use. He thanked me for my concern, told me not to fret about him, and suggested that I take my own advice.

“No,” I said stubbornly. “If you’re not going to sleep, neither am I.” I tried to be true to my word, only to slump against his shoulder and doze off until dawn.

I woke up in my own bedroll, alone. Daimu was nowhere to be found. Neither were any of the servants. The angle of the sunlight streaming in through the shrine doorway told me that the day of celebration was well under way.

I hurried outside, seeking him. I made my way through clusters of strangely subdued Ookami. Where were the cheers of celebration, the cries of revelry? I saw mats spread everywhere, laden with food, but no one was eating. All heads were turned in one direction, all faces anxious and ashen.

A dreadful thought struck me and my hand went to the precious amulet in my sash.
O Lady of the Dragon Stone, light of the sun, merciful one, grant that no harm has come to Chizu or her child!

I emerged from the ghostlike crowd to find Daimu standing at the bottom of the ladder leading up to Ryu’s house. The wolf chieftain looked down at him from the wide platform, attended by several of the highest-ranking Ookami nobles. Lady Sato was at his right hand, Rinji at his left. I gave thanks to see that there was no sign of sorrow on any of their faces, though the younger shaman was nibbling his lower lip so feverishly that I expected it to bleed at any moment.

As I took my place at Daimu’s side, I saw that he was breathing hard and that his skin was flushed. I laid a soothing hand on his shoulder and my touch made him shudder.
I had never seen him so transformed. What was happening here? What had I missed?

Ryu’s pitiless laughter from above brought my answer: “There you are at last, Lady Himiko! Have you come to hurl mad accusations against me too? Master Daimu insists that I murdered his uncle, the exile known as Oni. What next? Will I be guilty of
murdering
the pig we’ll roast for my son’s birth feast?”

“Can you deny you killed him?” Daimu shouted. “Can you swear on your newborn son’s life that you are guiltless?”

Ryu’s face paled. “How
dare
you! I am our chieftain; I
protect
our people. Oni was left to live unmolested for years, as long as he left us in peace.
He
was the one who chose to attack this village by night and kidnap an innocent boy! What did you want me to do before I acted, Daimu? Wait for him to steal another victim? To
kill
a child? He was dangerous! I did what needed to be done.”

“Oh yes, you are the great hero!” Daimu’s bitter sarcasm was a slap across the wolf chieftain’s face. “Tell me this: Did you
need
to leave my uncle’s body unburied, to become food for scavengers? How did
that
protect our people?”

“Silence!” Ryu roared. “Today is dedicated to rejoicing over the birth of this clan’s next chieftain. You are our shaman; your job is to shield all of us from unseen evils, from threats that cannot be fought with sword or spear. You should be performing rites of purification, ceremonies to attract the gods’ blessings. Instead you rant about the unburied dead. You will bring a swarm of jealous ghosts upon us!”

I could stand no more. “Lord Ryu!” I called out, raising
my arms high to draw every eye to me. “Lord Ryu, hear me! There is only one ghost whose vengeance you should fear. Give Mori’s spirit what he should have had many seasons ago!”

“Ah, Lady Himiko.” The wolf chieftain smirked and spoke to his nobles: “There she stands, giving commands as if
she
ruled this clan. And yet the moon’s face has not changed more than four times since she went clad in rags, emptying the night soil pots in my house!” He burst into laughter.

To his chagrin, none of the nobles joined in the joke. One said, “My lord, she helped Master Daimu perform the springtime rites. We trusted her to bless our crops, and they are already flourishing.”

Another added, “When my daughter coughed so hard that she could not catch her breath, Lady Himiko healed her. The child has enjoyed perfect health ever since.”

Even Lady Sato spoke up, saying, “Is this how you speak to the shaman whose powers gave me my grandson? Are you
trying
to offend the gods by making fun of their devoted one? Shame on you!”

Their chiding words were backed up by murmurs of agreement from the Ookami around me. One bold soul shouted, “Hear Lady Himiko! Oni’s ghost must be appeased!”

Ryu glared at everyone, a man betrayed. Then an idea came to him, for his narrowed eyes opened, his expression relaxed, and he smiled graciously. “Lady Himiko understands that my words are not to be taken seriously. There is a special bond between us now. She remembers all the honors that I offered her for helping bring my son into the
world! If she did not choose to accept them …” He spread his hands. “Let it be as she says: let there be a grand funeral to lay Oni to rest, body and spirit. It will be a royal burial, at my expense, and I will stand before his tomb to ask forgiveness for us all.”

“Only one person here needs to beg my uncle’s ghost for pardon,” Daimu muttered for my ears alone.

“True, but this is likely to be the best we can expect from Ryu,” I whispered back. Aloud, I said: “Thank you, my lord. With your help, we will raise a fine monument for Mori, placate his spirit, and—”

“When?” Ryu asked abruptly.

I tilted my head. “How … how can I answer that? You are the one who must give the order to build the tomb. How long do you think it will take to complete?”

“How can I answer that before you bring back Oni’s bones?” he replied with a thin, mocking smile. “What good is a tomb that holds nothing?”

“You want us to find his body after so much time has passed?” I objected. “His remains will be scattered by now, maybe even destroyed by birds, by animals, by—!”

“But you are a
shaman
, Lady Himiko,” Ryu said, still with that taunting expression. “Perhaps even a greater one than our own Master Daimu, to hear the stories.” He spared a moment for quick, cold glances at the nobles who had spoken in my defense. “Is anything impossible for someone with your gifts? Let the gods show their favor for you! Bring home Oni’s bones.”

I ignored the scorn behind his words. “You’ll trust me to go into the mountains?”

“Trust you not to run away, you mean? Ha! I think I can do that … unless your feelings for your kinfolk here have changed. And you will not go unattended. Master Daimu should be a part of this. If the gods refuse to guide one of you to his uncle’s remains, that is their privilege, but if they turn their backs on you both …” His shoulders rose and fell slightly. “Let’s hope that doesn’t happen. I would hate to ask what such bad luck meant for all of us. So, do we have an agreement?”

I stood straighter. “We do. I will bring back the bones.”

“Excellent!” Ryu grinned. “But you must not leave until after we have enjoyed this happy event. Eat! Drink! My wife has given me a son!” He waved one arm imperiously and the people returned to their celebration with renewed enthusiasm.

I looked at Daimu. His jaw was set and his eyes were burning coals of anger. He stalked away from the scene of rejoicing and I followed. He did not stop until he stood in the shadow of an Ookami noble’s lofty house. With a wordless cry of frustration and disgust, he struck one of the massive supporting pillars with his fist.

“I
knew
it!” he exclaimed. “I knew that serpent would find a way to slither out of this. He never meant to make amends to my uncle’s ghost! Now if any misfortune comes to this clan, he won’t take the blame. He’ll say it’s our fault for having failed to bring back Uncle’s body for proper burial.”

“
My
fault,” I corrected him. “I am the one who must seek the bones.”

“No. You can’t go into the mountains alone.”

“I’ve done it before,” I said. “Not
these
mountains, but still … I’m not afraid to do it.”

“But I am afraid to let you go, not for Ryu’s reasons, but for my own. We will make this trip together.”

I was on the point of replying when we were interrupted by the sound of a distinct, artificially forced cough. Someone had come after us and wanted us to be aware of his presence.

“Forgive me, Master Daimu,” Rinji said. “I came after you to offer my help in finding Oni’s remains. I didn’t intend to eavesdrop.”

Daimu’s anger was gone. He embraced his former apprentice wholeheartedly. “Rinji! It’s been too long, my friend. Please tell me that you’ve changed your mind about coming back to the shrine. I need you!”

Rinji looked at his feet. “I know that’s not true.”

“What are you talking about? Of course it is!”

“You have Lady Himiko.” He stole a quick glance at me before averting his eyes again. “She’s a better shaman than I could ever be.”

“We are not in competition, Master Rinji,” I said, taking his hand. It felt cold and clammy. “We work together, not for ourselves, but for the spirits.”

He shook his head briskly. “No. I don’t belong there anymore. I wouldn’t want to intrude on the two of you there.”