Leaves and flower blossoms swirled down in a dizzying hale, increasing in number with each ferocious gust of wind. The whipping tree branches gave intermittent flashes of cold light from the moon and stars, illuminating their journey in patches. Here past the stream, there over the thicket; Shibi cast a worried glance at her mistress, bending lower over her horse. The night was unnaturally cold for spring. Darkness whispered threats. She could only protect Sakuya from so much.
“We’re almost there Shibi,” Sakuya gasped, panting nearly as much as her horse. Shibi reached behind and grabbed one of the blankets, along with her own cloak, and handed them to Sakuya as they rode. Sakuya shook her head, teeth chattering. Shibi swore as they parted around a tree, and rejoined under a new flash of moonlight.
“Take them my lady,” Shibi urged, shaking the bundle of fabric again. Her mistress’s soft hand reached out tentatively through the night, nearly upsetting herself in the process. Sakuya quickly righted herself, wrapping in the blanket while goosebumps spread over Shibi’s skin. Her mistress had always been graceful, even when riding, but the pregnancy had given her unaccustomed weight. Hopefully, it would all be over soon.
The horses gave a grateful snort as Shibi and her mistress pulled to a halt. Sakuya waited for her handmaiden to dismount, eying the cabin; it had been a retreat for her and Ninigi in the beginning. They hadn’t used it in years, and they hadn’t needed to, but now…now things were changing. Sakuya tried to dismount herself, but gripped the mane of her horse, scrunched her eyes shut; even the simple things were beyond her reach. This uselessness was tormenting her. She had been ready to die from the ride over; a saddle was not very accommodating to a woman in her position. But it would all be over soon.
Shibi helped her mistress dismount, wrapping the tall woman’s arm around her stocky shoulders. She led Sakuya to the cabin and settled her in the bed. The soft whimpers of her mistress tore at Shibi while she gathered the pots, cloth, and water. The cabin carried in memories of getaways and ancient promises; it also smelled of dead insects.
“Are you comfortable, my lady?” Sakuya’s eyes flickered, finding her handmaiden in the dim candlelight.
“Has anyone in this position ever been comfortable, Shibi?” Sakuya gave a weak smile that turned into a grimace all too quickly. Suddenly, her breathing erratic. Shibi reached her hand out, gripping her mistress’s warm palm. “Thank…thank you. You have always been a faithful friend and companion to me all these years. Perhaps, after—” Sakuya gasped, curling in on herself, squeezing Shibi’s hand harder. The moment passed and she laid her head back, keeping her eyes closed. “Perhaps after this, you will have this cabin instead of a room in the palace.” Shibi glanced around the musty cabin. It had probably been nice…once.
“No offense my lady, but I think I will be just fine in the palace.” Sakuya chuckled, her pulse fluttering underneath Shibi’s grip.
“Please, keep watch outside. Nobody can be allowed in.” Sakuya’s eyes flared open and her handmaiden nodded at the request, disappearing out of the room. This would be a long night.
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“My lord!” Ninigi turned, hand on his sword. The harsh light of the guard’s lantern drew his face in stark contrast. The guard bowed and Ninigi inclined his head, resisting the urge to tug at his beard; Sakuya would always chastise him about it. She said it was an old man’s habit.
“Speak,” His voice was sharp, clipped. He didn’t mean for it to be; that’s how it had always been. His dark eyes only warmed when focused on Sakuya. His men never seemed to mind; they weren’t there for his kindness.
“The queen and her handmaiden aren’t in the palace or the grounds. We found tracks heading into the woods, and we have men combing through it now.” Ninigi’s callused hand squeezed into the fabric of his robe, his breath shallow.
“What direction?” She wouldn’t head there. They hadn’t used it in years. The memories they had there were sacred; she wouldn’t taint them with her petty retaliation. Sakuya would never stoop that low.
“East, my lord.”
“Damn it!” The guard wisely kept his face neutral, and his mouth shut, as Ninigi mounted his horse. He had underestimated the depths to which his wife would go to provoke him.
The wind howled in his ears as he sped deeper into the forest, retracing the worn path by heart. They had stopped by that tree once; they weren’t patient enough to wait for the cabin’s bed. And by the stream, they had named all the palace’s fish, their toes dipped in the cool water. This forest, this place, had always been theirs. It was destined for them from the beginning. Would she really throw all that away? He hadn’t meant what he said. If he knew she would react this way—no. He couldn’t think that way. This wasn’t his fault. It wasn’t.
This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.
Ninigi yanked on the reins, securing his horse with the others tied to a tree. They had buried a gold piece each there, sowing the seeds for prosperity. The cherry blossom tree towered over Ninigi now, burdening rather than supporting, looming over his future.
“My lord you must turn back.” Shibi. She was always there, always by Sakuya’s side. He knew how capable she was. He had hired the handmaiden himself; he would always be grateful for how she had protected his wife.
“Is Sakuya inside?” The wind nearly snatched away his words, tugging at his unbraided hair and beard, snapping his robe like a flag across his body. Shibi’s outfit billowed out slightly, her hair in a bun, staff held at the ready.
“You must turn back,” She repeated, almost imploring him. But her hands were steady, her eyes were set.
He moved without warning, embedding his curved blade in Shibi’s staff. The metal gleamed in a burst of moonlight, the handmaiden’s staff concealed in darkness again a moment later. Her shin hit him behind the knee, yanking her weapon back. The thick leaves and shaking branches gave their battle an almost surreal feel, partially illuminated. Blade flashing and then disappearing in the same movement, the knock of wood on metal and flesh cracking out above the peals of thunder echoing across the sky. Their breathing heavy and lips sealed, they danced a deadly dance in the solitude of the woods. Ninigi could see his opponent’s moves slowing, but her determination struck almost as punishingly as her staff. He narrowly avoided a blow to the head, sweeping his leg at her ankles. Using her staff, she vaulted over him, and he spun while crouched low, swiping his sword at the wood. Even as it collapsed underneath her, Shibi tucked into a graceful roll, coming up with a twirl of her staff that parried his quick thrusts.
Thunder cracked across the sky with no trace of lightning. Ninigi could almost have sworn he heard something. He stepped out of Shibi’s reach, and then he heard it for certain this time: a scream.
“Sakuya!” He looked with wild eyes at the cabin. A wave of heat washed over his face as the cabin became engulfed in flames. Was this a nightmare? How could this be? Shibi’s staff slammed into his chest as he sought purchase in his footing, and in his mind. Sakuya’s handmaiden pressed her advantage while he was distracted, striking from impossible angles. Another loud wail burst through the cabin, slamming into Ninigi with the weight of a stampede. He spun to his side around a thrust of Shibi’s staff, slicing through the ropes barely restraining the horses. They flew into Shibi, knocking her to the side into Ninigi’ grasp. He followed the momentum of the movement, throwing her into one of the trees; she didn’t get back up. A flash of lightning brought the clearing into focus for one brief moment. By the time the darkness had slithered back into its place, Ninigi was in the cabin.
“Sakuya?” He moved past the low candles, past the drapes they had picked out together. Their couch was on fire, the heat pressing in on him from all sides. Smoke billowed as the fear rose with the air in his throat. Coughing, he covered his mouth with his sleeve, stumbling through one of the doorways. Where was she? Where could she have gone? What had happened?
“Sakuya!”
“Ninigi,” The voice was weak and came from his left. He burst through the smoldering curtain covering the door, breathing heavily in the sheltered room.
“Sakuya,” He dropped to his knees beside the bed, tears stinging his eyes. “Why? Why are you here? What are you—”
“This is Hoderi,” She held the crying infant up with a smile. “He has your eyes.” She brought another child up for him to see. “And Hoori has your old man nose, even though he was born last.”
He coughed up a laugh past the emotion choking his throat and smoke trickling into the room. She held up another child, pressing it into his arms. In that moment he felt a change. The anger, the resentment, gone. A thousand feelings fought for his attention: worry, fear, hope, love. He gripped the child tighter, worried that he might break it, but hoping he could dissolve the little thing into his body and keep it safe for eternity. Even now, it looked like Sakuya.
“That’s Hosuseri.” He laughed again, holding Hosuseri in one arm, and clutching Sakuya close, their tears joining as he pressed his cheeks against her.
“Three boys,” He choked out. “What a handful.”
Sakuya laughed, letting out a low sob. “I’ve never seen anything so beautiful.” Ninigi wrapped his free arm around his wife, helping her to her feet. “I’m sorry,” She whispered in his ear, cradling both children in her arms.
“I was wrong,” He replied, passing Hosuseri to her for a moment, taking off his robe and covering the children with it as he took Hosuseri back, covering him in his undershirt. “I was wrong about everything.” They covered their mouths, pressing through the wall of smoke, fire crackling beyond their sight while the children continued to scream without knowing better. One last time Ninigi opened his mouth, shouting over the cacophony of noise. “Things will be different from now on!” His foot hit wood and he pushed Sakuya through the doorway.
“My lady!” He could make out the dim outline of Shibi rushing forward, dragging her mistress away from the cabin. A loud crack resonated through the whole cabin, Ninigi rushing forward, but not fast enough.
The flaming beams crashed around him, laying him flat on the ground. He could feel heat on his back, flames licking at his skin, the smoke choking his cries. He clutched Hosuseri tight, shielding him from the weight, even as his chest burned, undershirt on fire. The smoke blinded him, the cabin crushing the air out of his lungs. Suddenly, it was gone, and he scrambled, his back seizing and he collapsed again. Hands gripped his arms, dragging him.
“Hosuseri,” he pleaded, looking up at the dim outlines of his soldiers, weakly craning his neck to see the burning cabin behind him. “Somebody save my son!”