The Dragon's Flower Read online

  When she found her guardian, it was not in the way she was expecting. There was a little girl in a summery orange and green yukata seated on the ground and happily smoothing her hand down the scarlet fur and bushy tail of Akashi Keiji, Son of Tamotsu Eiji and Momoe Chiyo, Celestial Guardian and Patron of Akiyama. She was a pretty child, with round cheeks and bright eyes and hair of a lighter brown shade, which seemed curiously familiar to Hanako.

  “Hello, little one,” Hanako said. “I see you’ve met my friend?”

  The girl beamed up at the princess and nodded, patting the celestial fox on the head. “Yes! Pretty foxy!”

  Hanako shot Akashi Keiji a surreptitious look. He flicked his tail absently. “Indeed he is. What’s your name?”

  The girl’s dark eyes went wide, and she hastily scrambled to her feet and perform a bow that almost made her topple over. “ ‘m Sakura-tan, pretty lady!”

  “It’s nice to meet you, Sakura-chan,” Hanako said gently, and reached out and settled a hand on the soft strands of the little girl’s hair. “I am Princess Hanako.”

  The girl nodded to herself, smiled brightly at the princess, and went back to the business of stroking a rather content celestial spirit. Lifting her fan to cover her smile of amusement, Hanako settled herself nearby to watch. However, she was interrupted when a familiar figure seemed to appear out of nowhere besides her.

  “Princess Hanako, forgive me from intruding upon your company,” the man intoned, and Hanako startled slightly, fluttering her fan.

  “Oh! Ichiro-san! It’s nice to see you again!” The man was dressed as he always was, in his dark clothing covered by his nearly as dark haori, a scrap of black cloth tied about his lower face, and his lighter brown hair twisted into a knot behind his head.

  Hanako’s eyes narrowed on his hair, and said, “Forgive me if I am wrong, Ichiro-san, but would little Sakura-chan here happen to be your daughter?”

  The shinobi gave a bow and said, “Indeed she is.”

  Hanako smiled and rested a hand against her loosened obi. “She is a very lovely child, and has an excellent taste in companions.”

  The shinobi’s eyes strayed over to the image of his daughter happily petting Akashi Keiji, and he tilted his head to one side, his impassive eyes softening. “Indeed she is. I am very proud of her—she’ll grow up to be a lovely lady indeed. And perhaps this is a sign of a heavenly blessing?”

  Hanako twitched her head to one side, her eyes flickering across the features of the shinobi in front of her, before she suddenly smiled slightly, flicking her fan up to hide it politely.

  “Indeed it might,” She concurred softly. “I shan’t keep you any longer, then, shinobi-san. I am sure you have very many things to do. I have seen my honored brother-in-law relies heavily upon you, and I fear he plies you with more work than one man can do.”

  “Have no fear, my lady,” the man said solemnly, “I manage well, and it is my honor and pleasure to serve Isao-sama.”

  “He is good master, then?” She asked softly, and he bowed.

  “The very best.” Then he bowed once more, very deeply. “Farewell, Hanako-hime. My wife has called me to bring Sakura-chan to her. May the Heavenly Emperor illuminate your day with glory.”

  And with that, he strode forward and scooped up the little girl in his arms and was gone, and even Sakura’s protests at being separated from her new friend disappeared.

  “I see you made a friend, Akashi Keiji-dono,” Hanako said softly, and the fox flicked his tail.

  “She’s a sweet child, and I sense that she may have great things to do in the future.” He said. Hanako nodded, and the Fox proceeded to slide up against her knee, looking at her with concern in his keen gold eyes.

  “Does something bother you, little empress?”

  “Ah, I was just wondering…” Hanako drifted off, but a nudge from the Clever One’s sharp nose encouraged her to carry on. “I held my husband’s niece for the first time, today. She was so sweet and tiny, and so very precious. And I think I realized what a blessing I have been given, to carry the child of my lord husband. But then… I remembered something you yourself have said, Akashi Keiji-dono, and… It made me wonder something.”

  “Ask away, then, child,” The Fox said. “I am your Guardian, your wish is my command, so long as it is wholesome.”

  “I…” Hanako played absently with her fan, too nervous to look at the celestial while she asked. “When we had our audience with my honorable brother-in-law, you said you were present at my birth. My… can you tell me why my parents gave me up?”

  Can you tell me if they cared for me at all, or were they like Mother?

  “Ahhh…” The fox sighed. “I will admit that I did not know your parents well. I am not the guardian of the Imperial Line, you know. That’s my father’s job. And your father and mother both came from Karigane, so they would be mother’s responsibility if not father’s. I am only your guardian because when you were accepted into the fold of the clan of Fujioka, you came under my protection. And I am watching over you because at the moment, you need a sly companion who can easily sneak about and watch your back. We can take many different human forms, you know, but only one animal form. And a fox is much more subtle than a dragon, no matter how small Father makes his dragon form. He will join me in guarding you, later, when the time for subtle sneaking and spying is over.”

  He grinned, a sharp, fox grin. “It has been a long time since Father has had a reason to go to war.” He flicked his tail in excitement, but then he gently put a paw on top of Hanako’s geta.

  “So Father or even Mother would know more than I, but I can tell you what I know. Your mother was Takahara Fuyume, who was originally of the clan Horino. She was quiet and gentle, and the way she held you showed she loved you very, very much.

  Your father, Takahara Koube, was very proud and pleased with his sweet little daughter, and the several of you were very happy for some weeks. However, your mother slowly faded away from a weakness left from the birth, and your father was sad indeed. However, Koube still cared for you, gently and with obvious love. But then, when you were a year old, you got very, very ill.

  He tried everything he could think of to save you, but nothing worked. So at last, in desperation, he went to Katsumi, for she was well known as a healer even then, when she was young and newly widowed.”

  He paused for a moment, and Hanako stared unseeing at the patterns of her fan. “And then?”

  “And then Katsumi declared there was only one way to save your life, and the only way hse would grant it was if something of equal value was given to her in trade.”

  “What was that?” hanako asked, her voice as soft as the falling of the first snow.

  “A life for a life.” Akashi Keiji said solemnly.

  Hanako still stared at her fan. “I see. What… what did my father do?”

  “He immediately offered his own life in exchange for yours, but the lady would have none of it. She insisted the only way she would heal you was if you were give to Katsumi, little empress. And your father agreed, for to him, you were the most precious thing in the world. For Koube, it were better that you lived, and live happily, where he could not be with you, than to hold onto you and have you die in his arms, child.”

  The fox looked at her in some concern, but at last she nodded slowly, and then a slow smile spread across her face, and a light returned to her bright blue eyes. “Thank you, Akashi Keiji-sama. I am… I am very grateful.”

  With that, she rose elegantly to other feet and began making her way back inside, a fox with brilliant scarlet fur trotting happily at her tail. And Hanako smiled as she felt an old pain, which had recently doubted in strength, slowly slide away and be gone.

  My parents cared for me.

  And it was enough

  *****

  CHAPTER ELEVEN --- THE PLANNING AND THE GUARDIANS

  There was a muffled noise outside the door of Isao’s study, announcing the arrival of one of his men. “Who is it?”


  “It is Hamasaki Enzou, at your service, my lord.” A deep, almost solemn voice sounded through the paper panels of the shoji, and Isao grinned.

  “Enzou, come in! I was wondering how long it would take before you dragged your sorry beard over to see me!”

  The shoji door promptly slid open, and the man slipped inside, bowing deeply. “Honorable cousin.”

  “None of that, Enzou!” Isao complained, looking around to see if he had any sake left over from dinner. “We are friends, are we not? Call me by my name, please?”

  Enzou bowed and said, “As you wish, Prince Isao-sama.”

  Isao twitched his nose unhappily. Not exactly what I was hoping for, but I’ll take it. “I take it you have read the plan I sent you, Enzou?”

  “Indeed, my lord.” Enzou said, sitting gracefully on a cushion across from where Isao sat at his desk.

  Isao glanced down at the papers he was working on, frowning lightly as he absently worked out an equation. “And your opinion, Enzou?”

  “In my opinion, my prince,” His friend said, scratching thoughtfully at his beard, “it is a very excellent plan, indeed.

  Isao’s head perked up, and a hopeful smile flicked onto his face. “So you have no suggestions to make as to the plan this time?”

  Enzou shook his head. “No, my lord. Everything in this plan was very well thought out. I believe you’re getting better at this.”

  Isao smiled, but there was an odd twist to it that spoke more of bitterness than happiness. “Nay, I think not. I’m just better at this type of plan than the others—this plan involves what I was mainly trained in, as I grew. I was not raised to be a normal general, you know.”

  He tried not to think of those days, for they only brought him pain, and he could barely remember them anyway. The majority of his youth was lost in a haze of shadow and darkness, cruelty and death, and two small boys who knew neither name nor kindness.

  He never thought back on those days, if he could help it.

  “Still,” Enzou said, “Be that as it may, I think you are improving, and my lordly uncle would agree with me.”

  “Well, we’ll see.” Isao said, but his grin smoothed out and lost the wry shadow of bitterness, and his eyes gleamed with excitement again. “In fact, I believe my lordly father should be done with his court for the day, so shall we go and present it to him?”

  Enzou bowed his head. “If you wish, my prince.”

  Isao immediately stood up, smoothing out any wrinkles on his kimono absently. “Well then, let’s not dawdle, shall we? The time of a shogun is precious, you know.”

  “Indeed, my prince.” His friend concurred slyly. “I’m looking forward to seeing how you shall handle the time constraints such a position shall afford you.”

  Isao grimaced. “Let’s hope my accession to such a lofty position is well delayed and far off, so please the Heavenly Emperor. Come on, let’s go.”

  Together the two of them made their way to the inner chambers of the palace where the Shogun had his quarters, and the servants of the palace moved out of the way of them as they passed. They were, after all, the two most powerful men in all of Nagisa, barring the Shogun himself.

  Isao was, of course, the adopted son and heir of Shogun Hamasaki Hiroshi himself, and the husband of Shogun Hiroshi’s daughter. He was highly distinguished and counted as a hero of the people, especially after the events that had led to his adopted and marriage to the Princess Aika.

  Hamasaki Enzou, however, was the nearest male relative of royal blood to the main line of the Shoguns. He was the eldest grandson of Hamasaki Michiharu, the younger brother of Shogun Hiroshi, and his father (Michiharu’s son) had died years ago, several months before the birth of Enzou’s younger brother.

  In fact, there were still members of court and nobility of Nagisa who still supported Enzou as Shogun Hiroshi’s heir. However, Hiroshi stood firm on his choice. Isao was honored that his adopted father believed in him so heartily, but privately at times he thought that Enzou would make a far better (and more legitimate Shogun) than himself.

  But Isao had saved the life of Shogun Hiroshi, and in gratitude Hiroshi had taken the disowned and exiled prince into his family and made him his heir (on the stipulation, of course, that Isao marry Aika—to the protest of neither).

  A grimace of pain and regret flashed across Isao’s face, but he wiped it away so fast that no one noticed. True, he had managed to save Shogun Hiroshi from the enemies that had arrayed themselves against him—but he had failed to arrive in time to save Yasuhito, Hiroshi’s son and the true heir.

  Isao had been too late. Again.

  Shichiro said he was cursed, but sometimes Isao thought that he was the cursed one—doomed to always be belated when it came to saving those he held dear.

  But all of that did not matter—Isao was heir, and the position was his, for better or worse. And there was nothing in all the world that could take it from him, for it had been entrusted to him. And when something was given into Isao’s care, nothing could take it away from him.

  “Prince Isao and General Enzou to see His Excellence the Shogun.” A servant intoned lowly, and stepped aside, allowing the shoji to slide in order to make way for the distinguished guests.

  The Shogun was seated on a cushion, reading a book, but he looked up when the two men entered. Enzou immediately sank to his knees and bowed so deeply his forehead nearly touched the floor, while Isao gracefully settled into the seiza position and inclined a gentle bow towards the Shogun.

  “I assume, Prince Isao,” The Shogun spoke, his voice old but still strong, and filled with a warmth like the well-banked embers of a fire, “that there is urgent tidings indeed, for you and Enzou to come without informing me of an audience?” The expression on his face was blank and controlled, but amusement shone clearly in his eyes. “You dropping in on me unexpectedly isn’t anything out of the ordinary, but for Enzou to follow in your footsteps is unheard of. Or perhaps you have finally started to corrupt him?”

  “Heaven forbid that ever happen, my lord father.” Isao drawled, allowing the tiniest flicker of a smile across his face. “But you are indeed correct. We have very important information that you needs must be aware of.”

  Shogun Hiroshi nodded once, slowly. “Would I be remiss in supposing that the source of said information has to do with the mysterious young woman that has come to take residence in my home?”

  “Indeed.” Isao replied. “My honored sister-in-law brought us this information, which my brother has gathered for us.”

  Shogun Hiroshi ran a hand along the white hairs of his neatly trimmed beard thoughtfully. “And this information would be?”

  Isao and Enzou exchanged a quick glance before Isao answered; “That Masaki and Akiyama have joined forces in order to restore the Imperial Throne.”

  There was a silence in the chamber as Hiroshi gazed at them steadily. After a long moment he said, “If it were any other men who told me this, I’d believe they were lying, or perhaps in the grip of some opium-induced fantasy. However, I know both of you, and you are honest, grounded men who would not indulge in the pleasures of opium. Therefore, I must assume you are telling the truth, however marvelous it might sound.”

  Isao and Enzou both bowed slightly in acknowledgement of the compliment, and Isao reached into his sleeve and withdrew the scrolls of information that Shichiro had given to Hanako to pass on to him.

  “This, my lord father, is the diary of Her Majesty, Princess Fujioka Katsumi. My brother stole it from her chambers at great risk to his life, and it is very… enlightening… as to her intentions. You see where I have marked? Those places have the most relevant information.”

  The Shogun nodded and looked over the information before him, his eyes narrowing and his brow drawing together in ire. After several minutes, he set the papers aside, the look in his eyes grim. “I see what you mean. I assume you have a plan to deal with it, as well?”

  “Indeed, Lord Father.” Isao said, and gestu
red for Enzou to hand the plan to Hiroshi. His friend did so silently, and the Shogun perused it carefully, his face a meticulously blank mask. Isao watched with his heart pressing against his throat, thought his face remained calm and composed.

  It was a long time since he had knelt, cold and wary, before the Shogun of Masaki, and this father was not like his last one. Still, the urge to please and fulfil the expectations of the man he called ‘Father’ had not faded away.

  The Shogun nodded and rolled the scroll up, and suddenly graced his pride and heir with a small, pleased smile. “It is a very well thought-out plan. I hereby grant you henceforth the full authority to direct all matters of this affair, and leave it up to your capable wisdom, skill, and discretion.”

  He presented the scroll back to a stunned Isao, and his eyes warmed with kindly affection and confidence. “I have full and absolute confidence that you will live up to my expectations.”

  “I…” Isao closed his eyes, gathering his emotions, before bowing deeply in gratitude. “Thank you, Father, I will not let you down.”

  Ah, politics. They were such a wonderful mess of secrets and illusions that they sent Isao’s blood racing with excitement and the thrill of battle. Enzou, of course, thought he was crazy—Enzou was incredibly competent at politics (as he was in nearly everything else) but he detested them.

  Isao, however, had grown up in a world of shadows and violence, so the battle of protecting his beloved adoption country through his words was comfortably familiar. And he was good at it, which was always a balm to his conscience. He assured him his Father was not mistaken in entrusting his position to him.

  He tilted his head up to examine the color of the dawn inching its way along the skyline. He was at the very northern border of Nagisa, and although it was nearly at the peak of midsummer, the temperatures will still leaning towards the cooler side—influenced, no doubt, by the mountains surrounding him.