Spirit's Chosen (40 page)

“Bones …” Ryu stroked his chin, staring at the fleshless remains. “But are they
his
bones? How do we know that for sure?”

“See for yourself, my lord,” Daimu replied, holding back any show of emotion. “Look at their size. My uncle was no ordinary man.” He looked over one shoulder at me and raised his voice so that everyone there would hear him say: “And his bones were found by no ordinary woman!”

Calmly, proudly, he began to recount all that I had told him about how Mori’s own spirit had chosen me to discover his resting place. Ryu listened in tense silence, but the Ookami whispered excitedly among themselves, many pressing forward to try and catch sight of the long, bleeding tracks of briars that scored my hands.

The young chieftain stooped for a closer look at what
we had brought back. He did not dare touch the remains; he would not risk bringing the taint of death into his home, where his newborn son slumbered. Finally he nodded. “It would be a terrible thing if our forests had been haunted by two such monsters. This must be Oni’s body.”

“His name was
Mori
,” I said. “And he was no monster.”

“I didn’t ask to hear your opinion,” Ryu said fiercely. “You may serve the gods and have some
small
gift for healing, but remember: you are a captive! A slave!”

“Well, she shouldn’t be!”

I never found out who shouted that protest into the stillness of the late spring night. All I knew was that as soon as those words took flight, their sentiment was echoed by one voice after another.

“How can we hold her? She’s a shaman, favored by the spirits! If we keep her prisoner, the gods will avenge this insult!”

“She’s a healer beyond compare. If we don’t show her the proper honor, she’ll turn her skills against us, and our children!”

“She saved the life of our chieftain’s wife and son. She commands the powers of life and death!”

“She opened the gates of the other world to bring back Oni’s bones. If we don’t please her, she’ll summon forth the spirits of all the dead to attack us!”

“Set her free, Lord Ryu! Free her before she
takes
her freedom and destroys us!”

“Release her, or we’ll be facing the wrath of the gods!”

“Even Master Daimu bows before her. Let her go!”

“What difference will it make if we have one slave more or less? We can’t sleep secure at night if she remains a captive. The spirits will punish us if we do nothing!”

“Enough, enough,
enough
!” Ryu bawled over the din. The voice that had commanded an army to devastate the clans around his own was loud enough to quell the uproar raised by his people. Panting for breath, he glowered at the crowd. “Do you
hear
yourselves? You’re infants, whimpering at shadows!”

An older man came forward. He was dressed in silk, the sign of the nobly born. His gray hair marked him as one who had served Ryu’s father and was now compelled to give his allegiance to Lord Nago’s son.

“My lord, hear your people,” he said gravely. “Remember, I was there when your father visited the Matsu clan, seeking an alliance. I saw you leave our meeting with Lady Himiko, and I saw you return. On that day you started out well pleased at the chance to spend time with such a lovely young girl, but you came back drenched to the skin, reeking with mud and other filth, so furious you couldn’t speak. She was no longer in your company. We never asked what happened between the two of you that day, but I can guess: she humiliated you somehow. She wounded your pride so deeply that you cannot let go of that day, even after so many more have passed.”

“Be quiet,” Ryu grumbled. He would not look at the older man. “You know nothing about this. I am chieftain of this clan, and—!”

“—and she is a shaman who has proved her power!
Yesterday, in front of us all, you declared that you
protect
us. Then do it! Stop treating Lady Himiko as the girl who wounded your pride. Give her the respect she deserves as one who speaks with the spirits. Lord Ryu, do not tempt the gods!”

A great roar of agreement went up from the Ookami, sweeping away all possible arguments Ryu might have raised. He was not stupid; he read the signs. If he wanted to keep his place as chieftain, he would have to concede.

“Lady Himiko …” He pronounced my name so quietly, in such rough tones that at first I was not sure if he had spoken to me at all. His back was bowed in defeat. “Lady Himiko, you have your freedom. You can return to your people tomorrow. No one will stop you. May you have … a good road.”

“My lord,” I said, making a brief gesture of respect to him. “My lord, with your permission, I would like to stay here for a little longer.” I hooded my eyes, avoiding Daimu’s gaze. “I cannot go home yet.”

Ryu’s spine straightened. His head lifted like a dog’s, catching the scent of prey. “And why is that, Lady Himiko?” he demanded. “It’s about the brat, your brother, isn’t it?” He curled his lip as he looked at the gray-haired Ookami nobleman. “That’s what brought her here, you know,” he told him. “That’s why Oni died, trying to steal one of
our
rightful hostages, for her! Shall I give her what she wants? Shall I send the Matsu chieftain’s son back to his clan, free to grow up and assume his father’s role? Free to reach manhood and raise an army? Free to march against
us
, some day?”

The older man’s face flushed. “I do not ask for that, Lord Ryu. We must hold on to our hostages, especially those from the more distant lands we’ve conquered. It guarantees peace.”

“Oh, good. For a moment I wondered if this girl’s magic had turned
all
of your blood to milk,” Ryu sneered. He looked at me again. “Lady Himiko, I gave you your freedom. Stay or go.”

I met his stare with defiance. “I will not go before I can take my brother Noboru with me. I will not leave this village without him, or without my other brother, and my stepmother as well!”

“Is that the only thing keeping you here?” Ryu regarded Daimu and drawled. “How disappointing.”

My beloved ignored the jibe. “Lord Ryu, how much longer do you want us all to stand here, watching the night pass? I need someone to bring me a suitable container for my uncle’s bones until you can make arrangements for the funeral you promised him.”

“It shall be done, Master Daimu.” The wolf chieftain’s friendly expression was thin as an eggshell. “I understand your eagerness to spread out your bedroll. These sweet spring nights will soon turn very cold for you.”

He gave a series of terse commands, and soon two young men came rushing up with an empty clay storage jar. How they trembled as they handled the giant’s bones!

I patted one of them on the shoulder. “Can you find an empty house to shelter this until Mori’s tomb is ready? We cannot keep his remains in the shrine.”

He tensed at my touch. “We’ll do our best, Lady Himiko,” he answered quickly. They hoisted the jar and dashed out of sight.

Ryu chuckled. “See how fast a man can run when fear drives him! I should learn a lesson from those two: fulfill Lady Himiko’s wishes swiftly, or live in terror of her
powers
striking you down. My people, hear me! At dawn we will begin work on the grand tomb for Daimu’s uncle. Our work will be everything the gods could desire. Oni’s spirit will be sent to its eternal home royally, with all the rites, honors, and sacrifices fit for our greatest chieftains! He will enter the other world dressed in silks, heaped with riches”—Ryu held my eyes as he concluded—“attended in death.”

 

“What did he mean by that?” I asked Daimu as we walked to draw water from the well. Our contact with Mori’s bones meant we needed to be purified before we could serve the spirits again, a cleansing ritual as simple as it was essential and compulsory. “What did Ryu mean when he said your uncle’s spirit would be ‘attended in death’?”

“It was a command to our village pottery-maker,” Daimu explained. “She’ll have to begin work on the clay figurines that will share the tomb with my uncle.”

“Figurines?” This was something unfamiliar to me.

“We cannot send our most important people to the spirits without the comforts they enjoyed in life. The potter and her apprentices will make images of everything my uncle will need in the next world: food, a house, many servants …”

“We Matsu don’t do such things,” I said, watching him drop the empty water vessel into the depths of the well.

“You mean that your chieftains, nobles, and shamans go to the spirits in poverty?” Daimu was so astonished, he nearly lost his grip on the rope.

My pride was hurt on behalf of my kin. “We bury them with other types of offerings: pots and bowls, glass beads and ornaments, sometimes bronze mirrors. I wouldn’t call that
poverty
.”

“Yes, but without servants, who looks after their needs in the spirits’ realm? If they have to do everything for themselves, how will they be recognized as worthy people?” He pulled up the filled vessel and set it on his shoulder as we pointed our footsteps toward the shrine.

“Maybe the spirits think that truly admirable people need no one else to take care of them. They stand on their own, independent and capable.”

“Do you think our ways are wrong?” Daimu looked genuinely concerned about my opinion.

I set his mind at ease: “Your ways are right for your people. I am not entitled to criticize them, and the gods would punish me for arrogance if they thought I was mocking Ookami customs just because they are not the same as what we Matsu follow.”

We could not enter the shrine in our present condition, so we turned aside at the house where Ashi and Daimu’s other servants dwelled. They were waiting for us, having witnessed our return with the giant’s bones. No one had to tell them that we would need to perform a purification rite; they knew, and had readied everything we would need. They had even fetched and filled three additional water pots.

With the women’s help, I was soon cleansed and fit to stand before the gods once more. I entered the shrine with my heart singing, happy to feel the sacredness of that consecrated space surrounding me. My bare feet slid across the smooth floorboards as though they did not need me to lead them into a dance of gratitude and rejoicing. Mori’s bones no longer lay abandoned in the wilderness! He would be laid to rest with royal honors and his spirit would know lasting peace.

When Daimu returned from the conclusion of his own purification rite, he found me dancing. “Celebrating your freedom?” he asked.

I paused in midstep. “I was thanking the gods for helping us find your uncle,” I said. “But I should thank them for that as well.”

I moved to resume my dance only to have Daimu’s arms encircle me and hold me close to him. His breath stirred my hair. “Will the gods punish me if I
don’t
thank them for setting you free?”

Turning around to face him, I frowned and said: “Maybe they won’t, but I will! How can you say such a thing? Do you want me to remain a slave?”

“I want you to remain
here
,” he responded. “With me, forever.”

“Daimu …” His words made me irrationally afraid.

“Don’t speak of this, Himiko.” One of his fingers rested on my lips, light as a kiss. “Nothing either of us can say has the power to untangle what must happen. You have to go back to your people, bringing Noboru home for your
mother’s sake. That will be hard enough to do, but even if you can achieve it, would you leave your stepmother and your other little brother behind?”

“No.” I nestled against him, inhaling a fragrance of clean water and pine boughs. “No more than I could ever leave you.”

He gave a glad cry and clasped me so close that I felt as if the gods were about to take pity on us and make us a single person sharing one heart and one spirit. Then he let me go, and the enchantment was broken.

“We will find the answer we seek, my beloved,” he said, beaming. “As long as I know that you don’t
want
to leave me, now that your freedom is restored, I’ll strive with everything I have to discover a way for all of our desires to come true. Your family will not be slaves any longer, your mother will be saved, and you and I will be—”