Spirit's Princess (37 page)

The first thing that our new shaman did was conduct a ceremony of purification at his half sister’s tomb. This was something he insisted on doing even before settling into his new house.

“We’ve let the gods tend the rice fields while we’ve mourned my sister,” he declared as he stood in the center of the welcoming crowd. “They’re tired of doing all our work for us, so the sooner we’re able to return to looking after our own crops, the better. It’s never a good idea to test the patience of the spirits.” He looked to Father. “How soon can you show me her tomb?”

Father was taken aback by the new shaman’s request. “Don’t you want to have something to eat and drink first, Master Michio?”

“None of us will have much to eat if I don’t let our people get back to working the fields,” he said with a jovial
smile. “And as for drink, you can’t make good rice wine without rice! Shall we go?”

Father nodded mutely and turned to lead Michio to the burial ground. The whole village came trailing after them. I was still holding Noboru, whose happy squirming had nearly knocked us both off the house ladder when I’d climbed down to get a closer look at the man whose arrival had destroyed my dreams. I balanced the baby on my hip and wriggled through the crowd to reach Aki, who had fallen in behind Father and the shaman.

“Ah, there you are, Little Sister!” he said happily when we caught up to him. “And who’s this gigantic mountain ogre riding on your hip? I’d better watch myself around him. He’s probably carrying a big club, and he’ll smash my head like a ripe peach if I let him!” He snatched Noboru away from me and tossed him high into the air as we walked. The little one squealed with delight.

“Aki, tell me everything,” I demanded. “Did you find Master Michio, or did Father’s party do it? Where was he? How—?”

“What happened to ‘Welcome back, my adored big brother, I was lost and miserable without you’?” Aki teased, flinging Noboru skyward and catching him easily.

“Welcome back and the rest of it,” I said crisply. “Now
tell
me!”

“Oh,
very
eloquent, Himiko.” He clicked his tongue in mock disapproval. “But I suppose I’d better take what I’m given before you snap my head off. It was my group that found Master Michio. We were escorting him home when we encountered Father’s party on the road. That was a piece
of luck! If we’d missed one another, we’d have had to send out a
third
search party to fetch the second one.”

“And where was he?”

“Living among his father’s people, the Todomatsu clan, just as Lady Yama said.” Aki sighed. “Can you believe that there was a time when it was a simple matter of love for two people from different clans to marry? Hoshi and I were born too late to—”

“Shhh!”
I cautioned Aki with a frown and a meaningful glance at Father’s back.

“Ah.” He nodded. “Anyway, we found the seacoast village he called home when he wasn’t off on another voyage and—”

“Voyage? What voyage?”

“Little Sister, how am I going to tell you anything if you keep interrupting me?” He chuckled. “The people of the coast have grown rich from trading voyages. We heard that they’ve even gone all the way into the west, to the sunset land.”

“The Mirror Kingdom?” I asked, remembering what Yama had called that mysterious empire.

“Not a bad name for it. Master Michio told me that all of his mirrors come from there.”

“He was a merchant?” I pursed my lips. “If he didn’t serve the spirits for all those years, he can’t be much of a shaman.”

“I’ll tell him you disapprove,” Aki replied dryly. “Except he wasn’t a merchant, though he spent more time at sea than many a man who was. The Todomatsu have an interesting way of guaranteeing the success of a voyage. One
man takes a vow to abstain from eating meat, touching women, and combing his hair, even if that means he gets head lice! And he can’t change his clothes, either, no matter how filthy they get in the course of the trip.”

“Ugh!” I shuddered in disgust. “And that was what Master Michio did?
Why?
”

“I had the same reaction when he told me about it. He explained that it was a way of serving the gods and protecting his kin. If anything went wrong during the voyage, if anyone died or was injured, the people believed it was because the chosen man must have broken his vows and had to be killed. Master Michio said that you could never be sure when the gods might decide to drop a bit of bad luck on a boat whether or not a fellow was keeping his promise—and his head lice! ‘Better to let my life pay the price than put some other man at risk,’ he said.”

“Oh.” Reluctantly, I felt the first stirring of respect for our new shaman.

“Of course, when the voyage
is
successful, the chosen man is buried in a heap of gifts, even given slaves!”

“Ohhhhhh.”
So much for respect.
He only did it to enrich himself!
I thought. I sniffed disdainfully at Michio behind his back. “I suppose his slaves are coming later, carrying all of his wealth?”

“That would be difficult. He gave most of his gifts to the clanfolk who needed them. As for his slaves, he always seemed to receive an urgent message from the gods telling him to free them as a thanksgiving offering.” Aki uttered a comical sigh. “Master Michio is
very
strict about showing
gratitude to the gods.” He glanced at me sideways. “You look disappointed, Little Sister.”

I was, but I wouldn’t say so. I was ashamed to admit that I’d been hoping to find fault with our new shaman. I failed. Worse than failing, I soon learned how hard it was to dislike the man. When we reached the burial ground, he had two of our boys go off to bring some things he’d need to perform the ceremony. It wasn’t a command, but a courteous request. In fact, whenever he spoke to anyone, it was with the greatest politeness and consideration. If he was the sort of man who’d abuse his status as shaman to dominate, he was doing a perfect job of hiding it.

While waiting for the boys to come back, he stood gazing at Yama’s burial mound. It was tall and square, its massive size a sign that the person within was someone important to the clan. Tears rose in his eyes and bathed his cheeks. Slowly he knelt and hunched over, rocking back and forth with his face in his hands. The sound of his griefstricken sobs moved every heart that heard them, for when he raised his voice to cry his sister’s name, his lament was echoed by all of us, even Father.

The two boys were quick about their errands. As soon as they rejoined us with water, salt, rice wine, and an evergreen bough for Master Michio, he set his personal sorrow aside and began the ritual with the grace and dignity such an important ceremony demanded. His voice was clear and strong, his movements poised and graceful despite his size. Watching him, I imagined myself trying to perform such a dance. My cheeks burned with embarrassment as I pictured
the clumsy mess my bad leg would make of it. I couldn’t dislike the man, but I could envy him with all my heart. Not only was he more graceful than I could ever hope to be, he was free to serve the gods openly. What a difference there was between this public ritual and the secrecy of night and silence I’d had to wrap around the interrupted cleansing rite that I’d performed!

Once Michio had purified us from the taint of death, our lives returned to normal. There was a mercifully short time during which every able-bodied person in our village worked in the fields, frantically trying to undo all the days of neglect. The crops weren’t the only things that had been left to look after themselves during our extended time of mourning. There were waterweeds to pull out of the carp pond, places along the village moat where the earth had slipped and filled the trench, and a number of houses whose thatched roofs were in want of repair. Father tried to be everywhere at once, supervising, directing, and putting his own hands to work.

While all of this was going on, Michio settled into Yama’s former home. On days when I wasn’t helping in the rice paddies, I saw him strolling through our village. He divided his time among healing the sick, renewing ties with people he’d known before Lady Tsuki’s jealousy forced him into exile, and making the acquaintance of those who’d been too young to remember him or not yet born when he’d gone away. By the time the moon god’s disk had passed through a full set of changes, he knew everyone within our walls and everyone knew and liked him.

Everyone but me. Day after day, I kept my distance,
bitter disappointment making me surly toward a man who’d never knowingly done anything to hurt me. If I saw him coming, I slipped away like mist. If he came into our home while I was there, I busied myself with countless unnecessary chores, leaving Mama or another family member to talk to him. Once they were deep in conversation, I’d call out some flimsy excuse and steal away from the house, day or night, and not go back until I saw him leave. I spoke and moved too quickly for anyone to challenge me and became an accomplished little liar. Once I even pretended to fall asleep in the corner while he was still in the doorway, talking to Yukari. Every time I did such things, I despised myself, but that wasn’t enough to prevent me from doing them again and again.

One day, as I was in the forest hunting mushrooms for our dinner, my luck ran out. I hadn’t gone too deeply into the shadow of the trees when I heard Michio’s voice say, “Good morning, Lady Himiko. Have the spirits finally decided to favor me with your company? Usually, you do your best to avoid me, and yet here you are, tracking me to my secret lair.”

The words seemed to come from all around me. I whirled sharply, seeking the man, but saw nothing. The sound of his kindly laughter danced through the branches. “If I’d known that the best way to meet you was to hide from you, I would have done it days ago.”

“Where are you?” I called, still searching in vain for Michio.

“Why do you ask? To join me or to be sure you run in the opposite direction? Or do you plan to pretend you’re
asleep again until
I
go away?” He sounded amused, and not annoyed with me at all.

I pressed my lips together and felt the tips of my ears burn with shame. “I’m sorry for the way I’ve acted toward you, Master Michio. Please tell me where you are. I want to apologize face to face.”

“Ah!” he exclaimed, elated. “Is it true? Then come here, my dear. I’m on the other side of the big oak, the one with the ferns around him. Join us. See what I’ve found.”

This time there was no mistaking the direction from which Michio’s voice came. I walked slowly around the great tree and found our shaman seated on the ground with his back against the trunk and his feet hidden in a thick patch of gorgeous blue bellflowers. He looked at me and scratched his head vigorously. I couldn’t help staring. Unlike Father, Aki, and the rest of our men, he didn’t wear his hair in carefully arranged loops over his ears. Instead, it was cropped short and shaggy, though it had grown out a little since his arrival.

He noticed my interest, and his smile grew wider. “Not what you’re used to, is it?” he asked, holding one coarse lock between thumb and forefinger. “It used to be long, you know. It grew all the way past my hips, to the back of my knees. Whenever I said no and shook my head, my hair would lash through the air and blind anyone foolish enough to stand too close to me. What a horrible time for the Todomatsu clan! People stopped asking me questions, for fear that the next ‘no’ would hit
them
in the eyes! There were a few lucky folk who could still see, but they grew very tired
of having to lead all the others here and there. At last, they came to me and pleaded for help. ‘Oh, dear and wondrous Master Michio, shaman of shamans, hear our prayer! Share your wisdom! Heal our kin!
Heeeeeeaaallll
them! And if the answer is no,
please
give us a chance to stand back before you say so!’ ”

I began to smile in spite of myself. “So you cut it off to save anyone else from being blinded?” I asked, playing along.

“Sacrifice my wonderful hair for
those
creatures? Ha! Hardly. Instead, I just stopped saying—you might want to stand back for this—
no
.” He shook his head violently, then plucked at his short locks again. “Oh dear, it just isn’t the same.” He gave an exaggerated sigh and made such a tragic grimace that I couldn’t help giggling.

“Why did you really cut off your hair, Master Michio?” I asked.

“Well, you might’ve heard about what I used to do for the Todomatsu clan? Accompanying their trading voyages?”

I remembered what Aki had told me, and my revolted reaction. “You took a vow that while you were at sea, you couldn’t cut you hair or remove … or remove …” I hesitated.

“Don’t worry,” the new shaman reassured me. “
Saying
‘head lice’ doesn’t summon them. As if those little pests needed an invitation! We never want them, but they show up anyway and burrow in.” His expression turned serious. “I’ll bet you’re thinking the same thing about me.”

I opened my mouth to disclaim that, but something made me hold back the torrent of false words and say, “I am. I’m sorry.”

“Hmm. So you can be honest. That’s good. I must confess, when I observed all of the ruses you used to escape my company and then learned how close you were with my sister, I had to ask myself, ‘Why would Yama choose such a deceitful girl to be her apprentice?’ ”

I reacted as though he’d slapped a handful of cold mud in my face. “Who told you that?”

“You don’t deny it?”

I stood a little taller and spoke with all the dignity I could muster: “I never would and never will. I know what I am.”

“And what would that be, since your teacher is gone?”

“I’m a healer,” I replied calmly. “And a shaman.” I held his eyes steadily, daring him to contradict me.

“I’m glad to hear you say so,” he replied with a pleasant smile. “Otherwise, I’d still be wondering about those traces of salt I found on the threshold of my sister’s house, to say nothing of the way the earth there smells of spilled rice wine. I’d hate to imagine that any of the Matsu would waste such good drink. ‘Now, who’s been performing a purification rite here?’ I asked myself. ‘And why did my clan bring me home after all these years if they already had a shaman to assume my sister’s duties?’ ”