Bloodline, 2/10
The village was bustling the next day, men and women working together to start digging for a new potential well where Seitaro had directed. For the first time, Nino had skipped the ceremony, finding it difficult to watch the desperate search for water knowing what he did now. That in Amaterasu water was abundant. It had been for centuries. And the ones who had withheld it from the people were his ancestors.
The revelations of the night before had made sleeping almost impossible. It wasn’t enough that he was another man’s son. It wasn’t enough that he was of royal blood. Oh no, there was so much more than that. The fate of the entire kingdom might rest on his shoulders. All he’d ever wanted was peace, stability. A place someday to call his own. Love, if he was so fortunate.
Ninomiya Kazunari wanted to remain nobody special. He only wanted to be happy. But knowing what he did now, how could he just ignore it?
He couldn’t ignore his father’s faith in him, even if it was foolish. He couldn’t ignore how hard it must have been for his mother all these years, always knowing that Nino might be taken away from her. And he couldn’t ignore Sakurai Sho, who’d walked into Toyone-mura and begged for his help on behalf of a man Nino would never know.
Faith. Love. Duty. He’d seen his parents exhibit those traits his entire life. Water Finding, the caravan…the Ninomiya family’s existence revolved around helping others, helping complete strangers. Even when it was inconvenient. Even when it was hard. Telling Sakurai Sho to leave camp, telling Sakurai Sho that he wouldn’t help? It would mean that he’d learned nothing from his parents in his thirty-four years of life.
He found Sakurai Sho in his parents’ tent. After Nino and Seitaro had left to speak away from town, Kazuko had forced the traveler to rest. The man had come a long way to find him, and his duty to his prince had outweighed taking more sensible precautions. Nino found the man in his red robes under a blanket, one of Nino’s own salves coating his sunburnt face in a goopy white mess.
He sat there while the noise continued outside the tent, watching Sakurai as he dozed. The night before, Nino thought he’d simply be able to blow off some steam, find comfort in someone new. But Sakurai Sho had instead brought him nothing but difficult choices, a heavy burden.
He’d been sitting there a while before Sakurai opened his eyes, looking up at him with barely restrained hope. “Your Highness…”
“First things first, I’m not going to allow that. I’m not accustomed to having servants around me,” Nino replied. “So call me Nino or call me nothing at all.”
Despite the salve covering his obviously painful sunburnt skin, Sakurai seemed amused. “As you wish. You can call me anything you like, as is your right, but otherwise…Sho is fine.”
Nino definitely didn’t like the sound of “as is your right,” but he kept those thoughts to himself for now. What else might be his “right” as a member of his family?
“I received a thorough history lesson from my…from Seitaro,” he said. “About the expectations Prince Yukio had for me. Alive or dead, the kingdom-saving falls to me, doesn’t it?”
Sho’s expression grew more solemn. “You will come?”
“I don’t have much choice, do I? I’d rather not be the one the historians name as ‘the man who refused to help.’”
Sho smiled, but then immediately winced in pain. Nino couldn’t help chuckling at his discomfort.
“Next time you’ll cover up better,” he said, giving Sho a poke in the arm. At least wearing those robes on his journey had saved the rest of his body from the sun’s fierce rays.
“I am not accustomed to traveling,” Sho admitted.
“I’ve spent my whole life doing it, and the desert is no joke.” He leaned forward. “It seems we’ll be journeying together soon. But I’ll be the one planning the itinerary, if you don’t mind.”
“I understand how important your family is to you,” Sho said. “I am truly sorry to take you away from them.”
Given how awful Amaterasu sounded, Nino was thrilled there would be hundreds of miles between him and his parents from now on. He’d miss them, but their safety was more important. Especially since they knew the secrets of Amaterasu and the Matsumoto royal family.
“We’ll stay here as long as the caravan does, and then we’ll make our way to the capital,” Nino decided.
His parents would stay in Toyone-mura a few days more, perhaps even a week. He’d spoken with his mother early that morning, and with Nino gone, there’d be much more for her to do or to delegate to others. Kazuko was efficient, but she couldn’t run things all on her own. Before the caravan moved on, such things would need to be settled.
“Since we’ve got time, Sho, perhaps it’s best you get talking. I’ve only been a prince’s bastard for a day now, so my education is rather lacking. So tell me. Who are you?”
He spent the next several hours in the tent with Sakurai Sho, learning about the man who’d journeyed for weeks to find him. Sho was a little older than him, the eldest son of a family with a long history of advising the Matsumoto royal family. But the relationship had soured.
The descendants of Sorcerer Raku, kings and queens alike, had lived pampered lives in the inner sanctum that was the Royal Palace of Amaterasu. By rationing out water to the capital and the villages outside Amaterasu’s walls, they kept the people dependent on their “generosity.” Water could be given. Water could be taken away. The Kingsguard or Queensguard of each generation was given ample water and food to retain their loyalty and were wielded swiftly to quell rioting or any other signs of rebellion.
The Sakurai family had been wealthy and influential, had pretty much bought their way into the palace to advise the monarch. Amaterasu had its elites the same as any city or large town, but it was a tricky balance. A handful of pipelines led out from the royal palace, directly to the estates of the leading families. Direct water sources available only to them, while the rest of the capital had to share the remainder. But just like the ones going to the common folk, a pipeline could be switched off if an aristocratic family aimed a bit too high or displeased the king.
Sho’s father had been groomed from a young age to serve King Kotaro as his treasury advisor. Where to invest money (in pipelines and other infrastructure), where to try and get more (raise taxes, sell royal lands to private investors). Sho’s father was a few years older than Kotaro’s heir, Prince Yukio. Prince Yukio who wanted to know more about where the treasury got its funds, who accompanied Sakurai to the poorest reaches of the kingdom to take what they could in tax from those who had next to nothing.
Sho had only been a toddler when his family was stripped of its aristocratic title. When Prince Yukio went to the king with new ideas for lowering taxes on the poor, the king presumed that it had been Sakurai’s influence, an attempt to weaken royal power. It was Prince Yukio who intervened, to keep the family who’d served them for centuries from being killed outright. The bargain struck was a heavy one.
The entire Sakurai family, his father and mother, grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins were evicted from Amaterasu and sent to Tsumagoi in the north, close to the border with the Sun Kingdom’s neighbors, the Empire of Salt. Cold and unfriendly, the town at least had a freshwater river running through it.
Though Yukio had saved them from death, he couldn’t save them from shame. Sho was kept behind in Amaterasu, and so the heir who would have served the king as a trusted advisor was brought low, made a mere servant in the prince’s household.
“A hostage,” Sho explained, “so my family wouldn’t try anything foolish.”
Sho knew his family only through letters, all of which were opened and read before he was allowed to see them. He couldn’t remember what his parents looked like. He had siblings he’d never met, two nieces. Nino couldn’t even imagine it. Sho’s father had fallen from favor because Prince Yukio had allowed it. Reducing taxes had been his idea, not Sakurai’s. And yet he’d let Sakurai take the fall.
Nino was the son of a man like that.
Sho defended him anyway. “You must understand. Prince Yukio could not allow his father to know of his rebellious ambitions. Freeing the gods from Amaterasu was not his only aim. He wished for equality, for a way to bring water to all the people.”
“He ruined your life, Sho. He ruined your family to keep his secrets.”
“It’s complicated. My family didn’t suffer. And he was kind to me…”
“And now he’s dead,” Nino said coldly, irritated with each new detail revealed about the man who fathered him.
Sho blinked a few times but otherwise showed no other emotion.
“Yes, now he’s dead.”
Nino got to his feet. “You should rest. It will take us more than a week to reach the capital. I think I’ve heard just about enough today.”
“I understand.”
He was about to exit when Sho spoke again.
“For what it’s worth…”
Nino turned, looking down at the sad state of the man lying on the bedroll, face covered in salve.
“For what it’s worth,” Sho continued, “I’ve had thirty years to come to terms with what happened to me. To my family. I’ve had time to find my place in Amaterasu, to do what I had to do to survive there. Your learning curve will be considerably steeper. So I promise you, Ninomiya Kazunari, that I’ll do whatever it takes to help you.”
“Because Matsumoto Yukio ordered it?”
Sho’s eyes, the eyes that had captivated Nino from the start, were utterly serious. “No, not just because he ordered it.” Servant or no, Sho looked at him straight on, unflinching. “But because it is the right thing to do.”
Seitaro believed in him. So did his mother. So did Sho.
Nino left the tent behind, blinking in the afternoon sun. He found his mother standing at the edge of camp, watching as the residents of Toyone-mura dug where Seitaro’s Fortune Stick had indicated. He stood behind Kazuko, wrapping his arms around her, squeezing tight. Her hands grasped his desperately, even though her face betrayed none of her fear.
They said nothing, standing there out of the way as shovels dug and villagers prayed.
He wasn’t ready for this, for any of this. But when he heard the celebratory cries, when he heard the fevered gasps of “Water! We have water here!” he knew that the countdown was on. Soon he’d leave his life behind, everything he’d ever known.
And ready or not, the capital city of Amaterasu awaited him.
-
Sho’s face began to flake and peel a few days later, and they sat in the village square in the shade of an ancient palm tree. Nino had his mortar and pestle, was grinding a nutty paste that would smell horrible but quicken the healing process.
The Water Finder camp was assisting with the new well, also helping to construct makeshift tanks to bring up and store some water for reserves. In two days, they would leave for Aguni-mura fifty miles west. But Nino and Sho would set off for the town of Izena-machi instead, ten miles north. Trader caravans from the capital passed through Izena-machi regularly, and they would pay their way into a caravan’s protection. From there it was another two hundred miles northeast to Amaterasu. Traveling alone was simply too dangerous, especially with Nino’s grave new mission.
Sho had learned of Prince Yukio’s passing only a week into his search. He’d been sent from the capital in secret. He bore no identification or papers that might alert a Kingsguard patrol to who he worked for. With the prince dead, his position was all the more dangerous. The prince might have covered for his absence at the Royal Palace. But Sho was likely considered a deserter now, a runaway from his post.
“Doesn’t that jeopardize your family?” Nino wondered. “Since you’re supposed to be a hostage?”
“I’ve cultivated some friendships at the palace,” Sho admitted quietly, fanning himself. “I suppose I’ll discover if any of them were legitimate now, if they’ve kept my absence a secret.”
Yukio’s orders had been clear. Sho would find Nino and bring him back to Amaterasu, but not directly to the Royal Palace. That was suicidal - his arrival there would directly threaten the Matsumoto family line, given that Prince Jun was Yukio’s already named heir. Not to mention the fallout from the circumstances of Nino’s birth.
Instead Sho had been directed to bring Nino to one of the larger estates in the capital. The Tanaka family, a merchant family raised to aristocrat status, had been demoted again on the king’s whim. Yukio had been given the estate as a gift. Nino would be sequestered in one of the servants’ cottages on the property, there to study and train in the dark magic that had long kept his family in power.
Sho was fairly certain the plan could continue as is. If Yukio had been alive, he’d have been able to easily control access to the estate. But with Yukio’s death so recent, so sudden, the capital would still be in a state of mourning. Depending on the king’s decision, Yukio’s properties would not be meddled with for months or they would be given to Prince Jun to manage. And the king’s grandson would steer clear while the court mourned his father’s passing. Either way, Nino’s hiding place was likely to go unnoticed for a while, and then it would be up to Sho to find another place to stash him.
Perhaps if he showed a gift for magic, Sho explained, the gods might be freed without the king ever knowing of his existence.
“These gods, the sons of the God of the Waters…you haven’t spoken of them yet. Who are they? I still can’t wrap my head around the idea of gods walking among us.”
“They may look like us, like humans,” Sho explained, “but you need only spend a few moments in their company before you realize there’s so much more to them. Trapped they may be, but there’s no disguising a…”
The afternoon calm was shattered suddenly when Taniguchi, one of the camp’s bodyguards, came running back through the village square, one of the Toyone-mura patrollers not far behind.
“The Kingsguard approaches Toyone-mura!” the patroller hollered. “It is the Kingsguard!”
The palm frond Sho had been fanning himself with fluttered from his fingers and fell to the ground.
Nino gathered up his mortar and pestle, his work half-finished and the warning cry still echoing in his ears. He watched Taniguchi and the patroller disappear into the village elder’s home.
“Kingsguard?” Nino murmured, watching Sho slowly get to his feet. “They never venture this far…”
He’d seen the kingdom’s foot soldiers before, toting their shields that were emblazoned with a blood red circle meant to symbolize the rising sun. They were more commonly encountered in border towns, with the rest residing in or near Amaterasu. The small villages and towns that the caravan visited rarely saw the kingdom’s soldiers unless a village refused to deal with representatives from the treasury who came to collect taxes.
Kingsguard in a remote backwater like Toyone-mura could only mean one thing.
He could see the panic rising in Sho’s face. Nino had only known Sakurai Sho a few days, but he knew that the man was trustworthy. His mother would never have let him stay in their camp if he wasn’t. Which meant that Sho hadn’t lured the Kingsguard here on purpose.
It wasn’t likely that Nino and Sho would have the upper hand now.
“Hiding will only make things worse,” Sho admitted.
“They’ve come for me, haven’t they?”
Sho looked defeated. “So it would seem.”
The leaders arrived on horseback, which meant that they’d likely come straight from Izena-machi where such animals could be procured. Forcing a horse any further in the desert would kill them, and Nino doubted that the king’s finest would lower themselves to going about on foot or camelback.
The cavalry rode into the village square, horses whinnying as they encircled the area, trapping Sho and Nino along with a dozen or more other Toyone-mura villagers. The only opening was to allow a few dozen foot soldiers to enter, packs on their back and dressed for desert travel in lighter chainmail and helmets with sun visors. He couldn’t ignore the daggers strapped to each man’s side.
Nino heard Sho inhale sharply behind him when they saw some soldiers bring up the rear, eight of them bearing a glimmering golden litter. Nino saw the dark red circle painted on the shiny cloth. It wasn’t just soldiers arriving, now was it?
The men gently eased the litter down, kneeling in deference. Nino took a defensive step back, feeling Sho’s hand rest protectively on his shoulder. Looking behind the horses, he could see his mother and father watching in fright. He wished they could run, find safety in their tent, but it was too risky a move.
The cloth was quickly thrown aside as a woman emerged from the litter, dressed for the desert heat and blowing sands in loose, flowing purple robes. Her headscarf and face veil were a lighter violet. She immediately started walking in Sho and Nino’s direction, detaching the veil from her face where it had been secured with a silver chain. This revealed a woman of perhaps his mother’s age, maybe a little younger.
Unlike most women Nino had met in his life, this woman could afford makeup, bold red pigments for both her cheeks and her lips. It made her mouth look bloody, and from the way Sho’s hand tightened on his shoulder, Nino suddenly knew that this wasn’t a woman he could afford to disobey.
In the distance, Nino could hear a child crying. He couldn’t blame them. The closer she came, the more Nino wanted to cry himself. There was something in her eyes…something in her eyes that frightened him.
And yet he was astonished when the woman knelt down before him, her beautiful robes hitting the dirt. He said nothing, too stunned to speak. He did, however, feel Sho’s hand slip away.
The woman rose again, her brown eyes sparkling with mirth, her teeth yellowed with odd neglect. “I knew you on sight. It is remarkable how long you’ve managed to hide from us.”
“Madame,” Nino replied anxiously. “May I ask who you are?”
“You may,” the woman replied teasingly, and her voice was deep, her words clipped and sharp like most people he’d encountered from the capital region. A voice that threatened like a deadly blade. His mother, however, had long since abandoned the accent. Nino understood why.
He stared at her for another moment before gathering his courage. “I am Ninomiya Kazunari. From the size of your entourage, it seems you’ve been looking for me for some time. Who are you?”
“Ninomiya Kazunari, he calls himself,” the woman said, her crimson lips quirking into a grin. “My name is Matsumoto Rumiko, blood descendant of Raku, the first of his name. It is wonderful to finally meet my long-lost nephew.”
Nephew? This woman was his aunt? His parents hadn’t mentioned Yukio having a sister. Nor had Sakurai Sho. His new and terrible family was growing by the minute.
“We are alike, Kazunari,” the woman said, and she reached out, her finger stroking his cheek affectionately. It took all Nino had not to shudder at her touch. “We are both the unwanted siblings.”
Nino looked around, saw the men on horseback and the foot soldiers all staring him down. There was little friendliness in their faces compared to Matsumoto Rumiko’s.
The woman’s grin faded as she looked behind him. “It will show respect.”
Nino turned, watching how quickly Sho dropped to the ground, inclining his head. “Sorceress,” Sho said in acknowledgment.
Sorceress?!
“My family is staying just outside the village,” Nino said, trying to draw his apparent aunt’s attention away from Sho. “Can we sit and get to know each other? Some tea perhaps? We are a humble Water Finder caravan, Madame, but…”
Her hand cupped his face now, those eyes of hers staring him down. There was madness in them, Nino was certain of it. This woman was dangerous. He had to tread carefully - for his family’s sake, for Sho’s, and for Toyone-mura.
“Kazunari, my blood. There will be plenty of time for us to become friendly. It will be several days before we reach the capital.”
His chest tightened. He thought he had time. Time with his mother, his father. She was going to take him away from here. This woman and the Kingsguard. He would not be sneaking into Amaterasu now, would he? Maybe it was best if he played the fool.
“I don’t understand,” he mumbled.
“I can’t imagine the lies this pitiful creature has told you,” Rumiko said, moving to grab Sho by the hair, tugging hard until she could see his face. Nino’s heart was racing. Sho had been sent here secretly…and here he was now, surrounded by the Kingsguard. This Sorceress, this aunt of his, didn’t seem to wish Nino ill. But Sho…Sho was in danger.
“My dear brother, may the Gods favor him, was awfully fond of it,” Rumiko continued, her fingernails digging into Sho’s scalp. It. This woman had referred to Sho, a human being, as nothing but an “it.” Sho only looked at the sand beneath him, obviously wishing to cry out in pain but holding it in.
He had to do something. He remembered Sho’s words - how he’d had thirty years to learn how to survive in Amaterasu. Nino had anything but the luxury of time. He knew so little about the capital, but his mother had taught him to observe and emulate people’s behaviors as best he could. Of course that advice was meant for effective bartering at the market, not negotiating with a sorceress.
Then again, Ninomiya Kazuko had been in the capital herself. It was obviously where she’d learned to play the game.
“Madame,” Nino said, raising his voice a little and aiming for the same oddly cheerful tone as Rumiko. “Forgive my ignorance. I’ve only just learned my true heritage. The power my blood holds. I might have never learned of it had Sakurai Sho not come here.”
The sorceress let Sho go, turning back to Nino with a smile. From the corner of his eye, Nino could see Sho shaking in fear.
“It managed to convey that much to you? My dear brother sent it off behind our father’s back. A most unwise choice. Ah, but he thought he was clever, Yukio did. He believed all this time that Father didn’t know about you.”
Nino absorbed the information that was coming to him as quickly as he could. He could see Sho stiffen at Rumiko’s words. King Kotaro had known about Yukio’s bastard son, about Nino, all this time? For more than thirty years the king had known? For more than thirty years, the king could have sent an army to snatch him away? Why hadn’t he?
“I told you, Kazunari, that you and I share a special bond. We are the unwanted siblings. But now that my dear brother is gone and his other son is useless to Father, it’s our time, is it not?”
Two sides needed him. Sakurai Sho on behalf of Prince Yukio, who wished to free the gods from Amaterasu. And now Sorceress Rumiko, his aunt, on behalf of King Kotaro. King Kotaro, whose only other heir did not have the ability to compel the gods. After only a few minutes in Rumiko’s company, it was rather obvious which side was the more righteous one. But to survive, to keep his family safe, he’d have to make a different choice. At least for now.
With a few dozen members of the Kingsguard at her command and whatever powers a sorceress might possess, Rumiko was dangerous. It was clear that she needed him alive. But that didn’t necessarily apply to Toyone-mura. His parents. And Sakurai Sho.
Nino looked around. Beyond the horses, he could see the frightened, confused faces of the villagers. He couldn’t let anything happen to them.
“If I understand what you’ve said, Madame, it seems that I am needed in the capital very urgently. To ensure the survival of our bloodline.”
Rumiko’s dark red smile brightened. “I will train you myself, Kazunari. You are getting a late start, but I promise that you will be mighty. A worthy successor to my father.”
He didn’t like the sound of that at all, of having to spend any more time in this terrifying woman’s presence. But he didn’t seem to have much choice. “Then I come willingly. And with appreciation.”
Rumiko held his face in her hands. He held in a shudder at the realization that they were related by blood. “My darling nephew, how thrilled I am that you know your own worth and value. We will water the horses and leave as soon as they’re ready. You need bring nothing with you. In Amaterasu, you will have all that you need. I will do everything in my power to help you. You have my word as a Matsumoto.”
He remembered Sho making a similar vow. But unlike Sho, Nino didn’t trust this woman one bit. “I have two very minor conditions.”
Rumiko’s smile weakened the slightest bit, but Nino stood his ground as best he could. Careful, he told himself. Careful.
The eyes of the village and the eyes of the Kingsguard were still upon him. All of them observing this most unusual conference in the center of their village. “Ninomiya Kazuko and Seitaro. My parents and their caravan. I presume that if the king knew of me, he knew just as much of them. I ask that they be left in peace.”
“Of course,” Rumiko replied. “Father has no quarrel with them. It is clear they were manipulated and used by Yukio. Father is an understanding man, he would wish no harm upon the people who raised you and kept you safe all this time.”
Nino wanted to sigh in relief but he couldn’t. Not just yet.
“Sakurai Sho,” he said firmly. “What is to be done with him?”
Rumiko smiled yet again. “It is for Father to deal with.”
Breathe, Nino. Just breathe, he told himself. “Sakurai Sho was my father’s servant. I would take him as my own.”
Rumiko looked down at Sho, who was still almost face down in the dirt. “Nephew, that I cannot grant you. Again, it is for Father to deal with.”
“Then…then I will take the matter up with him when we meet.”
“It seems you have a soft heart for the weak, Kazunari, the same as your father.” Rumiko leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. Her next words came as a mere whisper in his ear, sending a shiver down his spine. “I will have to break you from that habit.”
Rumiko stepped back, clapping her hands.
“We depart within the hour.”
Nino looked across the village square, seeing his parents huddled together. It was clear that Rumiko and the Kingsguard were not going to let him out of their sight. So just like that, he would leave his parents behind.
He met his parents’ eyes, read the words on their lips, the pleas plainly etched on their sun-weathered faces. Be strong, Ninomiya Seitaro was telling him. Ninomiya Kazuko’s words were even more desperate.
You must be smarter than them. Or else.
-
They moved from town to town with an efficiency Nino had never known as a member of the caravan. They changed horses in every town and quartered in them at night. It was the law that citizens had to provide for the Kingsguard if they visited their town. It was a common occurrence along the borders, and towns there often had barracks available.
But in the towns they visited along the route to Amaterasu, visits of the Kingsguard were considerably more rare. Nino watched from the safety of the royal litter, Matsumoto Rumiko sitting across from him, as townsfolk were forced from their homes for the night so that the soldiers would have a place to stay. Their food and water was taken from them as well. No repayment or replenishments were offered. Complaints would only earn them punishments.
Nino was treated even better now that he was considered royal. He and Rumiko were quartered in town inns or in the homes of mayors or town elders. He was given fine foods, guilt squeezing his heart each time a frightened housewife set down a platter before him, as though he’d find something wrong with it and hurt her or her family. He’d be seated across from his aunt, who spent most meals sipping wine and rolling her eyes when Nino offered quiet thanks for what he was served.
At night, there were members of the Kingsguard posted outside of his room. Nino, still rather unaccustomed to mattresses, spent most nights awake and irritated, knowing he had no escape. Of course Rumiko’s excuse was that it was for his protection - in case agents of Prince Yukio or his widow, Princess Mariya, tried to compromise the mission.
Nino’s only comfort was knowing that Sho was still alive. It had been clear from their first day on the road that Sho, a servant, could not travel through the desert with the same speed as a trained soldier. It was Nino who had suggested that Sho be put on a horse so he “didn’t hold them up.” Rumiko had clearly seen through his lie, but since she was charged with bringing Sho to the capital alive to face judgment, she’d allowed it.
Sho’s nights were worse, Nino knew. He was forced to sleep in town stables with the horses, was expected to drink from the same water trough if he was thirsty. It had been hard enough to get permission for Sho to travel on a horse. There was no way Nino was going to be able to get Rumiko to give in on Sho’s treatment otherwise.
If Nino wanted to survive in this harsh new world, he knew it was only logical to forget about Sho. To ignore his treatment and play the game Rumiko wanted him to play. Hell, maybe it would have been better to not suggest the horse at all. Sho might have simply dropped dead from thirst or heatstroke. Certainly that was a better death than whatever likely awaited him in Amaterasu. Nino doubted the king would be merciful to someone perceived as a traitor.
Unless Nino found a solution, Sho would die suffering. And slowly at that.
Nino had met eyes with Sho only a handful of times so far on their journey. And Sho had smiled at him, encouraging him. Nino couldn’t understand it. He couldn’t understand Sho’s willingness to endure such humiliation. Even back in Toyone-mura, Sho might have saved himself. As soon as he’d heard of the Kingsguard’s approach, he might have fled as though he’d never come looking. Rumiko might have given up on Sho, assumed he was dead out in the desert sands, so long as she had Nino to bring to Amaterasu.
They were now three or four days away from the capital, and Nino woke from a nightmare-filled sleep. He woke in yet another stranger’s bed, sitting up and staring sadly at the infant crib in the corner of the room. He and Rumiko had been quartered overnight in the home of Mayor Toda, the woman in charge of Miyashiro-machi. Mayor Toda, her husband, and two young children were spending the night downstairs in their kitchen while Nino slept in her bed.
He bathed quickly, dressing in the clothes Rumiko had provided for him. Lightweight material, well-made. He’d never worn anything so fine as the new shirts and trousers she gave him. Good for the desert heat and with a pair of boots that she had one of the foot soldiers clean and polish for him every night. Wearing them repulsed him. He’d brought nothing from his tent. None of his clothes. None of his trinkets. Nothing that belonged to the Ninomiya Kazunari from the Water Finder’s caravan. That was all to be erased so that the man who appeared in Amaterasu looked more like a prince. He was certain that was Rumiko’s aim.
He was told to bathe every day, and the long, messy black hair he usually tied back out of his face had been cut a few towns back. He was told to shave his face every day because facial hair, even the shadow of it, was not popular in Amaterasu. He was eating more in one meal than he usually ate in an entire day back in the caravan, and the richness of everything repeatedly upset his stomach. When he woke now, ran a comb through his too short hair and peered into the mirror in a room he’d been forced to borrow, a different man stared back out.
He looked in the mirror now, exhaling shakily. All he could see was a man of royal blood. There were dark circles under his eyes - not from the exhaustion of a long day’s travel in the caravan, but from being unable to sleep in a stolen bed. Disgusted with the sight of himself, he headed down the stairs, finding Rumiko already eating breakfast.
He asked only for rice with an egg and soy sauce, mixing it all together with little enthusiasm. Somewhere in a Miyashiro-machi stable, Sakurai Sho was probably hoping that one of the carrots for the horses might fall somewhere in his reach.
“Good morning, my blood,” Rumiko said, smiling in that sinister manner of hers.
“Good morning, Aunt.” She liked it when he called her that, so he’d continued it.
Though they’d already spent days traveling together, there was a lot that Nino still didn’t know about the capital they were approaching. He had asked repeatedly about the sons of the God of the Waters. He’d even expressed his wish to meet them as soon as possible so he might better understand the powers his blood might give him over them. Each lie tasted rotten, but his curiosity seemed to please Matsumoto Rumiko even though she gave him few answers.
Instead, she mostly talked about herself. She was one of the most self-involved people Nino had ever met. She had been born seven years after her elder brother, Prince Yukio. Though she was the daughter of King Kotaro, her mother had been an aristocrat’s wife. Her mother and the woman’s husband had been banished from Amaterasu shortly after her birth as a way of appeasing King Kotaro’s wife, the queen.
Rumiko professed to being her father’s favorite, although Nino wondered how much of that was an exaggeration or outright lie. Nino had never paid much attention to matters of the royal family, but everyone had known that Yukio was Kotaro’s heir. Word of Yukio having a sister had never reached their caravan. Nino wished he could speak with Sho. He would tell the truth. For now, he could only pretend to accept Rumiko’s words, doing his best to act charmed by his newly discovered aunt.
As a younger child and a daughter (and an illegitimate one at that, Nino thought), Rumiko had never been considered for rule. Instead, she had studied her royal lineage. From the reverent way she spoke of it, Nino guessed it might have become her life’s obsession. No matter who her mother was, the blood of Sorcerer Raku flowed in her veins. She told Nino that she studied magic in order to “bring honor to the family, to the history of our bloodline.” But when Nino had asked her to demonstrate her abilities, she had only grinned, showing off an onyx bangle clasped around her ankle.
“Father doesn’t allow me to show off anymore,” was the only explanation offered. Presumably the bangle suppressed whatever magical powers she had honed over the years. And this also likely meant that King Kotaro had his own doubts about his daughter. An adult woman in her fifties, and yet she wasn’t fully trusted.
King Kotaro had also known about Yukio’s defiance, about the son he’d fathered and sent off to the desert. That also led Nino to believe that Kotaro had been equally suspicious of his son and had been for many years. The court Nino would arrive at in only a matter of days would be a difficult one to navigate. The only person he was sure he could trust might be executed as soon as they arrived.
Rumiko spent the remainder of the meal attempting to poison Nino’s mind against Princess Mariya and her son, Prince Jun. Nino’s half-brother. Rumiko made no attempt to hide her dislike.
“The West Kingdom, it’s no secret that weakness runs in their blood,” Rumiko was saying. The woman was obsessed with bloodlines. “Why Father even allowed Yukio to marry one of their simpering princesses still astounds me to this day. It is no wonder that the child of that union is useless.”
Having not been introduced to Prince Jun, Nino decided to withhold judgment on him. He was rather surprised that Rumiko would speak so disparagingly of her own family, but she appeared to value strength and power above all else. If Prince Jun truly lacked the ability to compel the gods, it explained Rumiko’s disdain for him.
But what did that mean for Nino, who’d arrive in Amaterasu soon with Rumiko by his side? Already he thought there’d be two court factions aiming to control him. The King and Rumiko on one side, Sho and whoever remained loyal to Yukio on the other. But what about Prince Jun? He was Nino’s age and surely had his own measure of influence at court. Even without magical abilities, the heir to the throne could not be underestimated. How would Prince Jun interpret Nino’s arrival?
That likely depended on Nino’s abilities. If he could not compel the gods, he was no threat to Jun succeeding King Kotaro. But if Nino could not compel the gods, he’d be useless in Rumiko’s eyes, and then where would he end up? What side would he choose? Or, more likely, what side would even have him?
His mother had begged for him to be smarter than them. But there was so much he still didn’t know. He knew only the fragments that his father and Sho had explained. He knew what Rumiko had told him so far, all of it heavily biased. He knew nothing of the gods. And worse, he didn’t even know if he could use blood magic. He might be walking right into a trap. How could he be smart when he was at such a horrible disadvantage?
The tattoos. The only way to control the gods was with the tattoos. He expected that they’d be carved into his skin once he arrived in Amaterasu. He wasn’t looking forward to it, even if he attempted to use them for the opposite of their intended purpose. Seitaro had told him the process was painful.
“Perhaps this is a rude question for the breakfast table,” he said, trying to remain calm. “But may I see your tattoos? Will mine be the same?”
Rumiko seemed pleased with the question. She seemed to like any inquiry that was mostly about her. “Not rude, Kazunari. But they’re not for just anyone’s eyes. I’ll show you later.”
There were four members of the Kingsguard in the room. The symbols would remain hidden for now.
Later that day, Rumiko remembered his request. They were alone inside the royal litter, being borne across the sands. She got his attention with a squeeze of her hand to his knee. “I will show you the birthright that has been kept from you for so many years.”
He leaned forward, interested despite how much she frightened and disgusted him. Because he knew that whatever marked Rumiko would soon mark him. He had to know.
She needed to only push up the sleeve on her left arm just to the crook of her elbow. Nino couldn’t hide his gasp at the way her otherwise soft, pale skin was so brutally marred.
The skin on the inside of her arm had six distinct symbols running from the inside of her elbow to just above her wrist. It was apparently the language of the gods, and Nino didn’t recognize any of the symbols. Each symbol looked like a painful bruise, the symbols inked in a purple so dark it was almost black. The skin around each symbol looked sickly, a yellowish-brown, as though the flesh might rot any moment.
Nino had seen people with tattoos on occasion. He’d never seen a tattoo look like the ones on his aunt’s arm. It was the blood magic, Nino realized. These were no ordinary tattoos.
“Does it…hurt?” he couldn’t help asking, feeling squeamish. Yukio had these? Kotaro had these? Generations of the Matsumoto royal family had these stretching back for centuries? Every single one?
“It hums a bit,” she replied, her fingertips brushing along the symbols. “It reminds me of my potential. My power. Always.”
He swallowed. “Mine will look like that?”
She chuckled, lowering her sleeve at his obvious discomfort. “What’s a little bit of pain when you can control a god?”
He stared at her. “You didn’t answer my question,” he said shakily. Even with them hidden away, he was certain he’d never forget what they looked like.
“Kazunari, relax. It will be years before yours are as powerful as mine. The longer you bear them, the longer the magic works in your blood, and the stronger you will become.” She smiled. “In time, you may come to find them beautiful, as I do.”
He doubted that. He highly doubted that.
The consequences of the blood magic, etched right into Rumiko’s skin. Soon those symbols would mar his own skin. They would hum if he possessed the ability to compel the gods, the same as his aunt’s. Or perhaps they would be silent, if he lacked the power. And yet they would always be there, a part of him. A reminder of the price Sorcerer Raku had willingly paid centuries ago for powers he didn’t deserve to wield.
“Could we stop?” he muttered. “I think my breakfast is disagreeing with me.”
Rumiko’s smile seemed almost sadistic as she called for the litter to be stopped. Nino nearly tumbled out of it, crawling across the sand to vomit.
-
Mud-brick walls a hundred feet high ringed the capital city of Amaterasu, and they entered through the South Gate with little fanfare. The city seemed no wealthier than the towns and villages Nino had passed through in the Water Finder caravan. It was simply larger. And darker. In many places the walls cast long shadows across the small, tightly-packed buildings within.
The foot soldiers carried the litter through the narrow streets, the cavalry to the front and back to ensure order was kept and the way remained clear. But Nino got the sense that people knew to steer clear simply at the sight of the blood red sun on the royal litter as it was carried through the streets.
Nino lifted the cloth only enough to look out from the slightly swaying litter. A crowded, labyrinthine city greeted him. The markets were full of glum faces arguing over prices while children hollered as they chased one another or cried in their mothers’ arms. Laborers were busy in the workshops they passed, hammering nails or stitching cloth. The air was ripe with the stink of unwashed people, animal shit, and commercial enterprise.
Amaterasu did have one key difference from the other towns in the Sun Kingdom.
The water.
There were pipes running all along the road, weathered copper tubes bolted to walls, snaking to and fro. He saw queues of humanity lined up at spigots placed at various points, their arms heavy with pots to carry the water home. At nearly every spigot, at nearly every well, a member of the Kingsguard stood by. It was a soldier who opened the tap or well cover in every instance. A soldier who told someone when their turn was over. Nino doubted everyone got their fair share. Disappointment was obvious in every face, but no complaints were uttered. All the water originated from the palace. The pipes could run dry on the king’s whim.
Nino looked back inside the litter. His aunt was utterly indifferent to the suffering all around them, the suffering of her people. The system in Amaterasu was one of utter dependence. Without the water trickling through those copper pipes, the citizens of the capital would easily die, especially with the high walls ringing the city and keeping them inside.
As the ride through the city progressed, the smell and the noise diminished a little. Instead of cramped multi-level tenements, the houses were spaced out more. Pipes were a bit more plentiful. Nino was able to observe a few unguarded wells, seeing women filling buckets and pots without a soldier looming over them. The neighborhood was home to merchants and other professionals. As the capital’s inner walls loomed ahead, the equally tall mud-brick that enclosed the royal palace and grounds, Nino saw bits of greenery emerge. Fenced-in estates with expanses of green grass and leafy trees. The estates of the aristocrats. Ornamental trees and plants were a luxury Nino had seen very rarely in his life. These were the homes that had a pipeline of water direct from the palace, so long as the family dwelling there remained in the King’s favor.
But yet all of this remained outside the palace grounds.
As they approached the palace gates, Nino felt ill. He’d made it here from the desert sands, carried past the kingdom’s neediest souls and then past the homes of those who lived well, simply because of the family they’d been born to. None of it was fair, and behind the walls just ahead, Nino knew that the greatest unfairness of all awaited.
For centuries, the royal family had lived in their own bubble. And now Nino would make his way inside. Would he ever make it out?
He heard the gate come crashing back down behind them, and he was inside now. “Behold your birthright, Kazunari,” Rumiko said, voice amused. Perhaps because she was accustomed to luxury.
Nino, of course, was not.
He could barely comprehend what he was seeing. The grounds were extensive indeed. It would be another mile before they even reached the palace in the center. And you’d never know such an overwhelming place might exist in the middle of the desert. He could sense the change in the air. It was a place that had never experienced deprivation of any kind.
To his left, there were extensive facilities for the Kingsguard. Stone barracks, a mess hall, an armory. He could see men training in shallow sand pits, iron swords colliding with a clang while others cheered them on. And just beyond the pits lay an ornamental fountain, a metallic sunburst mounted in the center with water spraying whimsically from each ray.
To his right stretched a healthy orchard. Tilled earth and groves of orange trees, branches almost overburdened with fat fruit. The sight and the sharp, fresh scent perfuming the air made Nino’s mouth water.
The noisy, pebbled path to the palace was interrupted twice with the sounds of boots on arched wooden bridges. The litter was carried over two different trenches, each full of lazily flowing water. He’d never seen so much water in his life, and yet these were mere streams added to beautify the landscape. What had it taken, what had it cost, to create these streams where none had likely been before?
There was so much greenery, he couldn’t believe his eyes. The palace gardens went on for acres - soaring palm trees, shrubs, and manicured bushes as high as a man’s shoulder. Plants with blooms in a variety of colors. Rose bushes and flower beds. Irrigation channels and small fountains, with simple stone benches dotting the landscape at obviously planned intervals. In the distance, he could see a gardening crew trimming branches and filling watering cans at one of the fountains. The staff paid little mind to any water that leaked out of their cans, letting it hit the stone where it would simply dry as though it had never existed.
The pathways through the gardens were solid stone, broken into gently declining steps to more easily integrate with the hilly terrain. The paths were all split right up the middle, a shallow channel of fresh water flowing along, easing its way downhill.
The main palace loomed ahead, a fortress of tan brick similar to those used to build the capital’s walls. The perimeter walls rose three stories high, solid brick for the first two stories while the top floor was open to the air. The entire perimeter was lined with rounded arches and marble columns, iron railings running along between each column to keep anyone from falling to the courtyard below. Even at a distance, Nino could see people walking the passageways, Kingsguard standing in place, and courtiers leaning against the railings to look out at the expansive palace grounds.
The litter was deposited in an outside courtyard, and Rumiko exited first. Nino followed, stepping down onto the dark stone. “I will arrange for you to meet with Father,” Rumiko said as a swarm of servants and grooms came for the litter and the horses respectively. “Come, I’ll bring you to your rooms.”
He looked back as he crossed the courtyard, seeing Sho only for a brief moment as he was helped down from one of the horses. Would he ever see him again? Soon enough Nino was inside, walking across intricately tiled floors as he followed at a respectful distance. The sound of boots behind him reminded him that there was no escape.
Part Three