The Dragon's Flower Read online

  Aika smiled at her husband and whispered, “Thank you, Isao-husband.” And Isao grinned all the brighter at getting Aika to say his name in public. He solicitously assisted her down onto the cushion before he retook his seat behind the desk, his lap now occupied by a Daisuke with an unhealthy interest in the ink bottle. Shichiro smiled at his sister-in-law and bowed deeply. “Aika-hime, it’s very good to see you again.”

  Aika lifted a sleeve to her mouth and blinked sweetly at him, smiling behind her hand. She bowed almost as deeply and said, “Ah, Shichiro-dono, it is just as nice to see you doing so well. I am glad your wandering seems to suit you so nicely.”

  Shichiro smiled back at her and acknowledged, “It can be quite difficult at times, but then there are the days where you wouldn’t trade anything, not even the poisonous snakes.”

  Aika shuddered delicately at that (she hated snakes), and Shichiro eyed her heavily protruding stomach. “I hear congratulations are in order, Aika-hime?”

  Aika’s eyes sparkled happily at him, and she smoothed a hand down the rounded form of her stomach. “Yes, we are very excited.”

  Shichiro tilted his head to one side, thoughtfully. “Are you hoping for another boy or for a girl?”

  “The midwives think it’s going to be a girl, though I can’t quite fathom how on earth they figure that,” Isao said.

  “And what do you think of having a little girl, Isao?” Shichiro asked.

  Isao shrugged in an attempt at extreme nonchalance, but Aika smiled at him. “My honored husband tries to convey that he isn’t too enthused, but he’s really excited at the prospect of having a little girl to pamper again. He misses having little Manami around to dote on.”

  Isao pouted and complained, “You shouldn’t spread such heinous rumors about me, wife! It’s not nice!”

  “I’m very sorry, honored husband,” Aika said contritely, but no one thought for a second that she was in any way remorseful. Isao, however, didn’t look to severely put out at being called out, so Shichiro laughed at him.

  “Another little girl will be just what we need,” Shichiro said, “After all, Dai-chan needs someone to protect, doesn’t he?”

  Daisuke grinned at this. “Yeah! I’gonna be big when baby’s born, an’ I’gonna be the bestest big brovver ever!”

  Shichiro grinned at his little nephew. “That’s a very good thing to be, Daisuke. Do you want me to tell you some things about being a big brother?”

  Daisuke promptly abandoned his father and rushed over to seat himself in his favorite uncle’s lap. Isao shot his own little sibling a betrayed look, but Shichiro grinned back at him unrepentantly. He rarely got to spend time with his nephew, after all, so Isao could begrudge him some little time with Daisuke as far as he was concerned.

  “Whats you wanna tell me, Unca Ronin?” Daisuke, asked, tugging on his sleeve, and Shichiro placed one hand on his nephew’s head and leaned forward to meet his nephew’s eyes.

  “You’re going to be a big brother soon, Daisuke-dono, and that comes with special responsibilities. Did you know that?”

  Daisuke shook his head in confusion. “Nnnooo. Wha’ kind resposnibilibitees?”

  “There are many responsibilities, but there’s one that’s the most important,” Shihciro said solemnly. ”You’ll have to watch out for your baby brother or sister and protect them with all your strength. You’re their big brother, and that’s your job. And most importantly, you never leave them to face trouble alone, if you can help it. That’s what your Papa—my older brother—did for me. Can you promise to do all that, Daisuke-dono?”

  Daisuke nodded, clenching one fist and his face twisted up in determination. “Yes, Unca Ronin! I’ll do it! I swears!”

  “Good,” Shichiro said, before his eyes lifted to Isao’s across the desk and smiled. “Then you’ll be just as good a big brother as your Papa was.”

  And something seemed to bleed out of Isao for a moment—only a moment, but still it happened—and Isao relaxed and smiled at his little brother, and it was like the smiles Shichiro remembered from of old; before the sword flashing in the darkness and the horse fleeing through the woods, before the kneeling figure besides the futon and the whispers in the night. Before the silence in the garden and the bright, hateful red staining grass and clothes and hands.

  It was good to see that smile again. Shichiro had missed it greatly.

  *****

  The temple gongs were ringing the sun down when Shichiro arrived at the temple. He slowly climbed the stairs, admiring the gilding light of the setting sun and the first farewell song of the nightingale. He got to the top and stopped for a second, looking around at the towering cage of mountains that surrounded the compound. It was a good place, this temple, out of the way and near the border of Nagisa, and protected both by its surroundings and its denizens.

  Even though it was near the border of Nagisa and Akiyama as well, it still stood firmly on Masaki soil, and its monks followed the code of the Great Dog, the Immortal Protector, the Celestial Guardian of Masaki. In other words, they were warrior monks. And what better place, after all, to hide a princess, other than a temple compound, surrounded by mountains and guarded by warriors?

  Shichiro smiled and began making his way through the compound, nodding at the monks he passed. It was winding down for the day, and most were making their way to the dining hall to eat. However, he knew that Manami usually ate privately in her chambers, unless it was a feast or festival day, in which case she presided as lady of the house, along with the Head Monk.

  So he quietly slipped his way through, unerringly heading in the direction of her quarters, wading through the thin sea of monks. Usually the temple wasn’t crowded, as during the day they were all out and about, doing tasks for the temple’s upkeep or training, but once night began to fall, it certainly began to fill up.

  Finally he broke through and ended up in the hallway leading to his little sister’s quarters, and strode down the hall, kneeling in front of the soji and tapping at it patiently.

  But when she didn’t respond after a moment, he tapped again, a little louder. Again, there was no response, so he tapped a third time.

  There was silence inside.

  Growing concerned, he rose up and called out her name. “Manami? Are you there? I’ve come to visit you again!”

  When there was no padding of feet or excited squeal, he stepped back and took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down. She was surrounded by warriors, it was highly unlikely anything had happened to her, she was just simply not in her room.

  However, that led him to quite the quandary—if she wasn’t in her room, then where exactly was she?

  He was pondering his options when a voice spoke from behind him. “Looking for something, Shichiro-sama? Or perhaps a someone would be more accurate?”

  The voice was old and wise and warm, sort of like dusty sunlight, and Shichiro felt himself instantly relaxing when he heard it. He turned around and bowed, “Father Nobuyo, as I’ve told you before, I am no sama.”

  The monk waved a hand, clearly dismissing his protests. “I know your brother and your mother’s brothers, and I knew your mother and your mother’s father. Her father, as you know, was Daimyo of these lands, and I still pay homage to his sons today. As long as I still breathe, no descendent of Miyama Katsuhira will not be acknowledged as anything less than a sama in my temple. We are followers of the Code of the Great Dog, after all. Tsuyoshi Hiro-Sama is not known for abandoning his comrades while they still possess honor and a good heart, or not giving them the due honor and recognition they deserve.”

  Shichiro shifted uncomfortably—I deserve no honor or recognition. I am cursed and honorless, a disgraceful, rebellious betrayer—But knew it was a lost cause and there was no reason to argue it. He decided to instead pursue the origin of this conversation. “I do not wish to bother you, Nobuyo-sama, but do you know where Manami might be?”

  The old monk’s eyes warmed, and he smiled. “Ahhh, Manami-chama. She i
s indeed a darling, isn’t she? We are quite honored that Isao-dono trusted us with the care of his precious baby sister.”

  Shichiro nodded politely, his own smile warming. The monk hummed thoughtfully, his eyes twinkling. “If I have a guess, she’s probably in the library. She enjoys the poetry we write, and often strives to write ones to compare to ours.” He paused a moment, before adding with a sly twinkle in his eyes, “I believe that you yourself are rather skilled at the art—perhaps you would like to give her some assistance? She appreciates our help, I’m sure, but she relishes any time spent with you.”

  Shichiro fought off the urge to twitch. He was, indeed, rather skilled at the art, especially haiku. This was something Isao had capitalized on, and they had worked out a system of sending information, enclosed in three humble lines of flowery or poignant words. But the elderly monk couldn’t know that, surely?

  On second thought, scratch that. He was Nobuyo-sama. He knew everything.

  “Thank you, Nobuyo-sama.” Shichiro bowed and began to take a step away, but then he paused and turned back to face the monk. “Ah, it has been a long time since I last visited long enough to wander and explore the compound. Do you think that perhaps you could point me in the direction of the library?”

  The monk smirked, amused, before walking to the end of the hallway and calling out, “Tanmaru-kun, if you could come here, please?”

  A much younger monk—some years younger than Shichiro himself, but still several years older than Manami, walked up and bowed. “What is it that you need, Nobuyo-sama?”

  Nobuyo gestured to Shichiro and said, “If you would be so kind as to escort Shichiro-sama to the library?”

  Tanmaru looked over to where the Ronin stood and smiled in understanding. “Ah, you’re looking for Manami-chama, aren’t you? Of course I’ll take you there. Follow me, Shichiro-sama!”

  Shichiro quickly bowed to Nobuyo, who returned the bow and waved him off with a fond smile, before hurrying after Tanmaru, slightly twitchy from being referred to as ‘sama’ so many times. It happened every time he visited—could they not see that he was not worthy of the honor?

  Apparently not, and Isao praised them for it. Of course, Isao couldn’t (wouldn’t) see it either—they were simply too loyal.

  He followed Tanmaru through the compound, until they reached a certain set of soji. Tanmaru turned to smile at him and bowed, saying “This is the library, your sister should be found within. I’ll leave you here; good evening, Shichiro-sama.”

  Shichiro twitched a shoulder after the man had left, and slid open the shoji and entered the library. It was slightly chilly and smelled dusty, and he wound his way through the stacks and shelves and chests of scrolls, looking for evidence of his sister. Finally, he turned a corner and found her, bundled up in a thick haori against the evening’s chill now that the weather was turning towards winter and busily darting a brush up and down on a scroll, her tongue slightly poking out in concentration, and several dots of ink on her face and smudged on her fingers.

  “What are you working at, usa-chan? Anything interesting?”

  Manami’s head darted up and she dropped the brush in surprise, her eyes widening as she found Shichiro in the dimness of the library. “Big Brother Shichiro!” She squealed and scrambled to her feet, only to skid to a stop in front of him and bow politely. “I wasn’t expecting you, why’d you come here?”

  Shichiro widened his eyes and pulled the protesting corners of his lips down into a hurt scowl. “What, don’t you want me, your favorite brother of all, to visit you? Should I just up and leave, then, if my own little sister doesn’t want me?”

  “Don’t be an idiot, big brother! That’s not true!” Manami protested, tugging on his arm.

  But Shichiro was on a roll now, and snatched up her usage of the word idiot, “Oh, my own baby sister thinks I’m a brainless idiot! The horror! I think my heart is burst from sorrow!” And with that he proceeded to ‘collapse’ dramatically to the ground, in such a way that he dragged the squealing Manami to the ground with him. Once she picked herself up from her sprawl, she picked up Shichiro’s limp hand and tugged. He only emitted a pained groan and turned his head away.

  Manami pouted, but got down on her knees and bowed, saying, “It’s not true I don’t want you! I always want you, big brother! And you’re not an idiot!”

  Shichiro immediately sat up and said, “I knew it all had to be a misunderstanding! How could my own precious usa-chan do anything but love me, after all?”

  Manami giggled and nestled into his side as he slung an arm over her shoulders. She sighed and snuggled closer to him, enjoying his hug. She rarely got hugged—when she was smaller it happened more often, especially if she had tripped and fallen, or was very sad and had started crying, but now she was eleven years old (check age) and would be a young lady very soon, and it wasn’t proper for anyone but family members to touch her. She sighed and said, “I’ve missed my brothers. You’re gone so long, wandering everywhere, and while Isao tries to visit every couple months or so, or at least sends Ichiro-san, he hasn’t been able to recently. I know Biggest Brother is busy cause Big Sister Aika is going to have her baby soon, and he doesn’t want to leave her alone, but he hasn’t been sending Ichiro-san either, except for just a couple of minutes to deliver a message to Nobuyo-sama and a letter for me. Do you know why Ichiro-san is so busy, big brother?”

  Shichiro scowled slightly, “Well, as far as I’m concerned, no Ichiro is the best kind of Ichiro you can have—”

  Manami pouted slightly and poked his arm. “That’s not very nice, Big Brother. I like Ichiro-san! He’s nice.”

  Nice wasn’t exactly the word Shichiro would have used to describe the man (irritating, arrogant, frustrating, scum-of-the-earth perhaps), but Manami liked him, and the man was loyal if nothing else, so he held his tongue. “I believe big brother is having Ichiro do lots of very important jobs. Things have been… strange… recently, and brother Isao needs all the best help he can get. And Ichiro is…” he grit his teeth but managed to get the words out, “the best at most of what he does. I, of course, am far superior.”

  Manami nodded (she did not doubt that, Shichiro was one of her big brothers, after all, and they were the very best warriors in all the seven realms as far as she was concerned). “I know about things being strange. There was a lot of odd gossip going around and being talked about Princess Yasu and my half-sisters and their ladies.”

  “Oh?” Shichiro asked, his instincts sharpening. “What sort of odd gossip?”

  “Umm…” Manami bit her lip and thought hard. “There’s lots of rumors about an alliance with Akiyama. Not just any sort of alliance, of course, but a marriage alliance.”

  Shichiro blinked. “A marriage alliance?” At first he was startled, but then chastised himself immediately; it was Akiyama, after all, and they loved their marriage alliances.

  Manami nodded emphatically, “Yes, a marriage alliance, between a member of the Nishimura clan and a Princess of the Fujioka clan, or at least that was the common rumor.”

  Shichiro hummed thoughtfully. “I wonder what poor sap is going to get saddled with a Fujioka princess. I can hardly imagine a worse fate.” He paused, “Well, except being married to Ichiro, but that goes without saying.”

  His little sister giggled, before pausing suddenly. “Oh, I forgot—I met someone.” Her voice was… strange, and it immediately set Shichiro on edge.

  “Who?” he asked immediately. His voice was calm, but his eyes were narrowed and he could feel the unhappy line of his lips.

  “Ah,” She fidgeted with the edge of her sleeve, and admitted in a whisper, “Princess Fujioka Katsumi-dono.”

  There was a little silence, and when he spoke again, Shichiro voice was sharp. “When? When did you meet her?”

  Manami squirmed and pressed closer to her brother, clearly unhappy at the memory. “At an inn, a days travel from here. I don’t know why she was there, but I ran into her moving around the inn.” She pau
sed, then admitted in a small voice, “I don’t like her. She’s all… cold. And when she looked at me, it was like her eyes were laughing.”

  Shichiro sighed and tugged her a little closer. “It has been some time ere I came face to face with Katsumi-hime, but I do not trust her. She is clever and cunning, and as vicious as a striking snake. Did you speak with her?”

  His sister shook her head, and the ronin felt his shoulders untense slightly in relief. “Not much. We only exchanged greetings. There might have been more, but Kenta-kun came and said that my chief bodyguard had requested my presence and allowed me to escape.”

  Shichiro lifted an eyebrow. “Kenta-kun? Who is Kenta-kun?”

  “Kenta-kun is the youngest son of Lord Saito, the Daimyo of Morito. Father-sama assigned him to be my escort in Court, for Kenta is being apprenticed by Satoshi, and when it was time for me to leave he assigned Kenta to be part of my escort.”

  Shichiro let out a sigh of relief and an approving nod. The Saito clan was known for being very devout followers of the Heavenly Emperor and his Precepts, and the Daimyo from that clan was said to be wise and generous and just. If he remembered aright, his mother’s mother had been a member of a branch of the Saito clan, before her marriage to the Daimyo of this province. He suspected that Isao’s spies may have had something to do with Lord Kenta’s placement at the Shogun’s palace and his being chosen as Manami’s escort.

  Satoshi was one of better sons of the Shogun (better being a relative term, of course) and was Manami’s full brother, and tended to pay her a bit more positive attention than the rest of the half siblings in residence at Konohamiya. He would have to check with Isao, however, and investigate this Lord Kenta if need be.

  One couldn’t be too safe when it came to Manami, after all.

  “Did I do a good job, gathering the information? Will it help you and Big Brother Isao?” Manami asked.

  Shichiro glanced down at her and smiled. “Yes, you did a very good job. An excellent job, in fact, just be sure to be careful as well. The last thing we want is for you to get in trouble on our account.”