Emperor of the Eight Islands: Book 1 in the Tale of Shikanoko (The Tale of Shikanoko series) by Lian Hearn Page A

not show any weakness, or he would be exploited by those he spared or by the others among whom he strove to be first, most important, most powerful. He would reap the benefit of his victory today and bestow the land and resources he gained as a reward to one or other of his men to bind them closer to him. He wondered as he did from time to time what his life would have been like if his father had agreed to his request to become a monk. He might have known greater peace and fewer regrets, he would have no suspicions of his wife or rage against those who sought to betray him, but he would not taste the incomparable elation of success or the restless anticipation of his next encounter with the new woman.
    After they had finished eating, his wife told the maids to prepare the bedding and take the children away. When they were alone she encouraged Kiyoyori to lie down, and he saw that she wanted to lie alongside him and make love to him. But she was not the one he desired, and he felt ashamed of sleeping while his men were still out risking their lives.
    “I think I will go to the shrine for a while,” he said. “I cannot come close to you when death and blood lie so heavy on me.”
    “Whatever Lord Kiyoyori wishes,” she said, trying to hide her disappointment, but failing.
    *   *   *
    The priests were chanting, incense burned, and bells rang. Kiyoyori noticed a solitary figure kneeling at some distance from the shrine steps beneath the tall, shadowy cedar trees. He washed his hands and rinsed his mouth at the cistern. An attendant rushed forward with a mat for him to kneel on. After he had prayed for his victims’ souls he asked to have Shikanoko sent to him.
    He spoke some words to comfort him. “I made arrangements for prayers to be offered. May their souls have a safe onward journey.”
    “I cannot believe they are all dead,” the boy said in a low voice. “They are all dead and I am alive. Though perhaps it is your intention to send me to join them.”
    “Tell me who you are and how you came to be with them, and then I will decide what to do with you.”
    Shikanoko told him his story briefly, and when he had finished Kiyoyori said, “That is rather inconvenient, as your uncle is one of my chief allies. He swore allegiance to me and I confirmed him in the estate after you were presumed dead.”
    “But Kumayama is mine,” Shikanoko replied.
    “Nevertheless your uncle, Jiro no Sademasa, has been loyal to me. I cannot simply evict him in your favor.”
    “Even though he tried to kill me?” Shikanoko said stubbornly.
    “We have only your word for that. Your uncle’s version is you slipped and fell. In his opinion it was a result of your willful and impetuous character, and was an accident that would have happened sooner or later. Furthermore, why should I or anyone else believe you? You could be an imposter, put up to this claim by your bandit master. What proof do you have that you are Kazumaru?”
    “People will recognize me. My men will know me.”
    “Your men are quite happy with your uncle. Boys change in the year between sixteen and seventeen. The boy who disappeared was a child. I see before me a man with all the appearance of an outlaw.”
    “So, you do intend to kill me?”
    “I have not yet decided.”
    The boy said nothing. He did not plead or argue and Kiyoyori liked him for that. He was disposed to spare him—good bowmen were always useful, and Shikanoko had possibly done him a favor by shooting down the werehawk.
    “Was anything revealed in the divination?” he asked.
    “They sent me away after the mask showed us the bird’s identity. There was another ritual to perform between Lady Tora and the master.”
    Lady Tora. So that was her name.
    “What kind of ritual?” Kiyoyori said.
    Shikanoko did not answer for a moment but shot a strange look at the lord as though their roles were reversed and Kiyoyori were the youth whose life hung in the balance.
    “And just who is the so-called