Spirit's Chosen (8 page)

I mustn’t think about that
, I told myself as I went from house to house, caring for the men who had survived battle with our enemies.
He’s gone, he and Shoichi and … and Aki. I can’t change that. Even if I had been here when they fell in battle, I couldn’t have done anything to alter what happened. Someday I will see them again, but now …
I took the small and precious image of my goddess from my sash and held her tenderly in my cupped hands.
Sweet Lady, guide my eyes. Turn them to see what
can
be changed. Let me look after the living
.

And so I found my place in the life of our clan that winter season. As day followed day I saw my duties as a healer dwindle. One by one, the people who received my care no longer needed it. I thanked the gods for every time I was able to tell a man, “I won’t be coming back to see you tomorrow. Look, your wound is healed!” I sorrowed when my abilities were not enough and all that I could tell his family was, “I’m sorry,” before I began to sing for the dead.

Master Michio advised me that the best way for the two of us to divide our duties was at random. “I mentioned your position as our princess in order to clear the way for you as a healer,” he said. “Now that’s accomplished, we don’t want individual families competing to have you and only you to care for their sick and ailing. Since the Ookami left us with so little, some of our clanfolk grab any scrap of status to make themselves feel loftier than the rest. There’s enough bickering in our village as it is; you mustn’t add to it.”

What he said was true. I’d noticed it myself. My former playmate, Suzu, had always carried an envy-born grudge against me, but since I’d been recognized as a shaman, she came seeking my exclusive help for her family. Oh, how she wheedled, pretending we’d always been the best of friends! Worse, she tried to win me over by muttering against Master Michio:
“Save us, Himiko! Don’t leave us in that man’s hands. He’s growing old and inept; he makes dangerous mistakes, I’m sure of it! I swear, my poor cousin was worse after Master Michio took ‘care’ of him. Promise that you will be the only one to tend us? Pleeeeeease?”

Kaya made a face when I told her about this. She was accompanying me into the forest to seek medicinal roots
that might be hiding under the snow. “What nerve, talking about Master Michio that way!” she exclaimed. “I wish I’d been there. I would have given her a
reason
to need him.” She slammed her fist into her palm.

“Tsk. Now poor Suzu’s in trouble,” I replied. “Lady Badger’s going to tear her to shreds.”

“Hmph! Lady Badger wouldn’t soil her paws on that creature.” Kaya looked haughty. “But you should have given her a swat with your wand, at the very least.”

“My wand is
not
a weapon.”

“Who says it is? Just hit her over the head with it and call it a blessing! A
hard
blessing.” Her teeth flashed in a mischievous grin. “A blessing that would give her better manners.”

“Ugh. I’d rather stay away from her than try to change her. You should have seen her when I said I couldn’t promise to be her family’s sole healer! That simpering mask vanished faster than you can blink.”

“I can guess what was underneath it,” Kaya said. “What a scowl that girl’s got! She must be part
oni
.”

“At least I’m used to
that
look on her face. It’s honest, even if it’s nasty enough to blight rice. I prefer it to her fake sweetness.”

Kaya grabbed my arm and dug her chin into my shoulder. “Ohhhhhh, Himiko, don’t say such awful,
awful
things about me!” she cooed in a too-accurate parody of Suzu’s voice. “I can’t
bear
thinking that you don’t like me just because I turned all the other girls against you. You didn’t really
mind
that, did you? Aren’t you my dearest, most precious, best-of-all best friend in the
whole world
?” She tilted her head coyly and batted her eyelashes until we collapsed, laughing.

It was good to laugh. Little by little, my clan was rediscovering the way back to a world where we laughed more often than we wept. Laughter gave us strength to rebuild our houses. It comforted our bellies when our scant supplies fell short and let us look beyond the hardships of each dull winter day to the hope of a future springtime. The Ookami had broken our walls, collapsed our moat, torn down Grandfather Pine, but as long as we could laugh, they had not destroyed our courage, our heart, or our soul.

New homes rose. Old homes were repaired. Snow fell less often, then stopped. The flinty scent of the dead season’s cold air began to carry a hint of returning greenery. Life was coming back to our village by many roads.

One morning I was awakened by a frantic child who dragged me to his mother’s side so that I could help her give birth to a healthy baby girl. The young mother was one of our many recently made widows and her little son took his new responsibility as man of the house very seriously.

As I brought the new child into the light, the infant gave such a strong cry that it crossed the border between our world and the spirits’ realm. For a moment, I sensed the presence of her departed father. “You have a fine daughter,” I murmured, holding up the baby, and caught the flicker of his smile as he returned to his rest.

The infant’s lusty cries roused the whole village and before any of us knew it, we had turned the occasion into a full-fledged festival that took place around the memory-haunted roots of Grandfather Pine.

The gods must have approved: Kaya decreed that no celebration was complete without good things to eat. She
and the other hunters dashed off into the forest and returned with half a dozen wild pigs that they surprised in a narrow cleft in the hillside.

“Sorry they’re so scrawny,” Kaya said as the unlucky beasts were turned over to our cooks.

“Never mind that,” came the jovial reply. “They’re fat enough to be a banquet for us!”

“A banquet?” one old woman piped up. She nudged her sister and the two scuttled off. They returned carrying clay jars that turned out to contain rice wine.

“There’s a few more hidden between the back of our house and the village wall,” one of them announced. “Those filthy Ookami never even thought to search there!”

“Ha! That was
my
idea, stowing them there,” her sister declared smugly. “The day I can’t outsmart
that
flea-bitten pack of mongrels, I’ll take myself to the burial ground!”

The addition of wine made our celebration seem even more like something from the happy days we’d known before the war. People sang and danced with abandon. Masa and his household sat with ours. His wife and sister-in-law were behaving as if they had been best friends since girlhood, with no bickering between them. I nudged Kaya and whispered:

“Look, little Takehiko’s gone to sit in Mama’s lap! You know what this means?”

My friend smiled. “He’s not afraid. I
thought
I noticed him warming up to her.”

“He used to adore her. Thank the spirits, she’s healed! Now we can have our old lives back. Things will be different with the Ookami lording it over us, but who knows?
Someday we may find a way to break free of them. Things change; that means they can change
back
too.” I looked at Takehiko, who was singing a song while my mother bounced him on one knee. My heart was bright with happiness.

I rejoiced too soon. I forgot the full meaning of words I’d just spoken:
Things change
.

The celebration went on, growing more boisterous by the moment. The newborn child who was the unwitting cause of so much revelry slept content in her mother’s arms until one merrymaker got a little too close to the baby and bawled, “What’re you gonna name her, eh?” The little one’s startled yowls sent the man staggering back, knocking a bowl of wine out of another fellow’s hand. Soon they were fighting.

The brawl spread. All the petty disagreements and frustrations that had been building up among my clanfolk erupted. The new mother looked on, horrified, but still too spent from childbirth to be able to get away quickly. Her infant wailed louder, which added to the rising din. Her son tried to protect his family, but he was much too small. I rushed to help them, Kaya close behind me. Together we stood guard over them, watchful in case any of the ongoing clashes came too close for comfort. Time after time we shoved and stiff-armed and blocked pairs of scuffling villagers. We shouted ourselves hoarse, trying to make them stop fighting, but our voices were too high-pitched to get anyone’s attention.

“I wish I had one of Master Michio’s bronze bells,” I told Kaya as we struggled to remain standing in the midst of growing chaos. “
That
would get their attention.”

“How—how do you mean?” she replied, panting for breath. “Ringing it or using it to thump a few empty heads? I know which
I’d
choose!”

Fortunately for my people, the set-to ended before Lady Badger could get her paws on any kind of weapon. A deep, authoritative voice resounded over the noise of battle: “
This
again? Stand down, you fools! Stop before I break your empty heads!”

Old Lord Hideki strode into the midst of the crowd, swinging a heavy piece of firewood. The brawlers scattered before him like rice husks in a high wind. I don’t know if he ever intended to club his own kinsmen, but no one present was stupid enough to find that out the hard way. Within the time it takes for three breaths he was the only man left standing. The rest were sitting meekly with their families while their wives and sisters scolded them or exclaimed over their bruises and scrapes,
then
scolded them.

The men retreated, but Kaya and I remained standing while Lord Hideki ranted at our clan: “What is
wrong
with you? Are you trying to finish what the wolves started? Haven’t we lost enough men? What is worth fighting over like this?” A few people tried to mutter shamefaced excuses for their behavior, but a single glare from the old warrior’s eyes silenced them. His questions did not want answers.

Then, like the ash-covered ember that suddenly kindles into flame again, a woman spoke up: “I’ll tell you what’s worth fighting about!” she cried, pointing at the two elderly sisters who had provided the drink that had loosened my clanfolk’s tongues and fogged their common sense. “Why did
they
have all that wine, eh? Why were they keeping it
secret from the rest of us all this time? Come to think of it, what else do you suppose they’ve been hiding? Why not rice wine
and
rice? While the rest of us starve, those old lizards have been gobbling good things all winter long! I say we go search their house and—!”

“Take one step that way and you’ll find yourself taking the next one out of our gates!” Lord Hideki shouted, brandishing his cudgel. The woman flinched and hurriedly stepped back as he continued to berate her. “How dare you speak to your elders with such disrespect? You’re not starving! A starving tongue doesn’t have the strength to clatter like yours.” Abruptly he turned to glare at my brother Masa. “Now do you see the truth of what I tell you?” he thundered. “This is your doing!”

Masa recoiled as if the older man’s words were blows. Most of our people exchanged bewildered glances and began whispering furiously to each other, wondering what this was all about. The only ones who looked neither surprised nor confused by Lord Hideki’s accusation against my brother were our remaining noblemen. Before the Ookami came, they had been Father’s valued counselors. Now their stern eyes were focused on Masa. He squirmed under the burden of so many hard looks. His lips parted, but he could not find a voice to raise in his defense.

I could.

“Lord Hideki, what do you mean by speaking against my brother like this?” I asked. “He’s done nothing wrong. I saw him trying to
stop
fights, not start them.”

“Himiko, please …” Masa’s cheeks were blotched red with embarrassment. “You don’t know anything about this.
I’ll speak with Lord Hideki about this later. It doesn’t involve you.”

“On the contrary, it involves all the Matsu!” Lord Hideki declared. His arms spread wide, embracing our gathered clan. “See what has become of us: we can’t even mark a happy occasion without falling into more of these stupid little quarrels! It was never like this while we had a chieftain to direct us as one people, one kindred. Why have we fallen apart this way? Because the one who
should
lead us, the one whose ancestors have always guided this clan”—he glared at Masa—“says no.”

I turned to my last remaining older brother. He looked ready to sink into the earth. “I have good reason for my choice, Lord Hideki,” he said so quietly that it was nearly impossible to hear him. “I told you so already. Why do you keep at me like this?”

“Your father was my friend; we were close as brothers,” came the grim reply. “He loved this land. He loved our people. The Matsu always came first in his heart. You are his son. How can you be too selfish and lazy to accept the responsibility of his heritage: to be our chieftain!”

“That’s not why I refused! Why didn’t you
listen
to me?” Masa’s despairing plea rose shrill and loud, startling those nearest him. Takehiko took fright and tried to climb from my mother’s lap into Yukari’s arms but Mama enveloped him in her embrace, rocking back and forth until he sat with her calmly again.

“My brother is right,” I said. “He should not lead us.”

The old lord tightened his lips. “No one asked for your opinion.”

“You
never
ask, Lord Hideki,” I responded. “You decide. You direct. You choose and then you force your choices on everyone else. Why not choose to become our chieftain?”

His shaggy eyebrows came together. “I should slap that insult from your lips, girl. Do you think I am a thief to take what isn’t mine? Your family has ruled the Matsu for as long as any man here can recall. The line of your blood is unbroken, and on my honor as your father’s friend, I will see to it that this remains so!” he roared at me. “The wolves killed this clan’s chieftain and two of his heirs, but as long as one survives, I will not rest until he accepts his obligation to his kin!”