"The Emperor's fever was gone, but he was still tired and very reserved. Mitsukake had not been able to rid him of the slivers that created sharp pains when he moved too much. Nor had the healer been able to replace the blood he had lost; the Emperor's body would have to heal itself. But his silence and the sadness that settled on him had little to do with his physical condition. He hadn't yet been able to tell anybody the whole story of what had happened in the forest, about Tamahome or Miaka, after that night when Mitsukake had given him the sleeping draught. Mitsukake had proclaimed Hotohori's memory a fraud, a delusion brought on by pain and herbal medicines. Neither Tasuki or Koji really knew what was happening to him. They wouldn't talk about it, as if they didn't believe him either. It felt like a betrayal. Hotohori knew what had happened was true, and he missed Miaka with all his heart.
"The moment Hotohori felt able to get up, he wanted to leave for Eiyo, but Mitsukake wouldn't allow it. He made it clear he was certain the Emperor was influenced by a dream."
Mitsukake didn't believe Hotohori! Keisuke shook his head. He believed the Emperor. But he had the book, he knew what was happening. Mitsukake didn't; he hadn't been there, and he didn't know. "You've got to believe the Emperor. Go find my sister. And don't trust Tamahome!" Keisuke shouted in warning.
Hotohori considered himself in the small hand mirror. Well, the bruise on his forehead was gone. That was something. The scar on his stomach was barely visible, but he knew the one on his back was larger. The shoulder was certainly more than useless now--he could actually lift his arm--and the numbness in his fingers was fading. But he had a permanent reminder of Nakago's attack slashed into his skin. He tipped his head and held the mirror over his shoulder. He still couldn't see it, but he could feel the scar with his fingertips. He put the mirror face-down on the bed.
The Emperor leaned back and looked out into the main room. The little blond bimbo who'd been following him around was still out there. Well, maybe not so little. He was actually a year older than the emperor, but sometimes he just acted like a kid.
Hotohori sighed in resignation. At first, he had been very irritated by that kid's presence. Every time the Emperor woke up, the boy was there, simpering and starry-eyed and asking if there was anything His Highness needed. Tasuki had chased him away once, but after a very long, lonely day, the Emperor had seen the kid peeking in the window and invited him back as his only link to normality. There weren't any servants here. The room was tiny and bare, and Mitsukake would not let him leave it. Often Mitsukake and Tasuki would leave, trying to force him to sleep. And the clothes he was wearing were not his own. Even the mirror had been hard to get. And Miaka was not there to encourage him, take care of him, or make him laugh. But the blond boy had acted as a servant and friend, brushing his hair, bringing him food, even acting as a confidante. And his constant attention had become a comfort in a way.
Yesterday, when he had asked for his robes, the boy was the one to tell him they were ruined, torn and bloody. It had been something of a scramble finding the shirt he had on. Hotohori almost laughed at the memory. The boy had insisted Hotohori wear his clothes, but the shirt and pants proved to be far too short for the Emperor. The boy was so disappointed, that the Emperor could almost imagine the rain falling in sheets around the kid, but then the boy had fallen over himself with eagerness in raiding the bandits' hideout for clothes that fit the Emperor, exactly. It had been funny, almost, and for a few moments Hotohori felt his mood lift. Maybe the boy would consider living in Eiyo. Then Hotohori did laugh, at himself.
"Am I seriously considering asking a thief to come live at the palace with me?" His mood turned serious again. "I don't know. He believes me. When I asked, he said he didn't remember if there was somebody else in the room that night or not. He doesn't remember if I attacked him, he says he doesn't know, but he doesn't hold those bruises he's sporting against me." Hotohori picked up the mirror and looked at himself again. He felt lost in self-doubt. "I've lost Miaka. I miss her. If only Mitsukake would believe me, but . . . Maybe he's right? No. There's too much proof, the fire, the blood. I was there! Even if I can't feel it, I know Chiriko and Chichiri are captured. We can no longer trust Tamahome." His thoughts went round and round. "What has happened to the Suzaku Seven? I have depended so much on them. Now I cannot depend on any of them." He looked up and spoke aloud. "But, I must protect the people in Konan. I will go back and lead, as I must. I will find all my people, the ones that were not killed. I will care for them. If there is anybody left." With that grim thought he went to find Tasuki.
Mitsukake sat with Tasuki at a long table in the otherwise deserted dining hall. "I just can't believe what the Emperor said. At first I thought there might be some truth to it, but too much of it just doesn't make sense. It's been a week since Nuriko left. He didn't say anything about Miaka to me when we rode here from Choko, and there haven't been any reports of trouble. And, I didn't see a fire that night."
Tasuki shook his head. "But we don't know for sure. I didn't see a fire, but I never looked. And Nuriko might not have been able to return. Didn't the Emperor say Chichiri and Chiriko were captured? If they were . . . I don't want the Emperor to put himself at risk, any more than you do, but he has to be where the military is. He can't direct an assault from here."
Mitsukake sat back. They'd been arguing about this for days. But in the end it wasn't really their decision anyway. The Emperor would leave as soon as they let him near a horse, with or without their approval. Mitsukake tapped his fingers on the table. "Did you send a scout?"
Tasuki shrugged. "Yeah. A couple, actually. But they're not back. And that, in and of itself, doesn't tell us Jack. They are bandits, after all. They might just be out stealing stuff." His wolfish grin just added to the embarrassment of his next statement, "I don't think they took the task of running to the capital just to find out if four members of the Suzaku Seven are there seriously."
"You're kidding! They've got to be more reliable than that!" Mitsukake and Tasuki turned towards the sound of the familiar, feminine voice. Nuriko was standing just inside the open door behind Koji, who promptly intoned, "Knock, knock. 'Who's there?' Koji. 'Koji who?' Me, Koji, that's who. I've got a visitor for the boss. 'Oh, great. Koji. Come on in.'"
Mitsukake and Tasuki jumped to their feet. "Nuriko!" they both exclaimed, drowning out Koji's litany.
"Are you all right?" Mitsukake asked.
"Oh, sure," Nuriko replied sarcastically. "If you don't mind a little murder and mayhem." He looked around the empty room. "Where's the Emperor? He's with you, isn't he? I didn't find him at the house." From the shocked silence that answered, Nuriko could only fear the worst. "He's okay, isn't he?"
"I'm fine, Nuriko."
Nuriko jumped. The Emperor was standing right behind him.
"Emperor!" Nuriko threw his arms around Hotohori's neck. The Emperor staggered under the onslaught, but then Nuriko caught sight of the blond bandit standing just inside the door, looking somewhat jealous. Nuriko shoved Hotohori out of the way in his haste to crowd the bandit out the door. He slammed the door in the boy's face and dusted his hands together.
Mitsukake bypassed Nuriko, firmly taking Hotohori by the arm and guiding him to a chair. The Emperor was rather pale; Mitsukake forced him to sit down. "Highness, what are you doing up?"
Hotohori stared up at Mitsukake. "I was looking for you. I am leaving for Eiyo."
"No, you're not. You can't. You are still too ill!"
"I can and I will. I am the Emperor. It doesn't matter how sick I am. I must return to the palace and find out what has happened."
"Nothing has happened!" Mitsukake pushed down his frustration. He was going to have to prove to the Emperor that Nakago had not attacked Konan. He looked at Nuriko. "Now that you've been there, can you please tell His Highness that there is nothing wrong at the palace. I'm trying to keep him from traveling to Eiyo; he can't make the journey. But His Highness is convinced that Nakago has captured Chiriko and Chichiri. And that the city was attacked and burned."
"Actually, I never made it back to the palace. I can't say what's happening there, because I don't know. But I can tell you there was a fire inside the border."
They were all stunned. Hotohori leaned forward anxiously. "Where? At Eiyo? Nuriko, I need this information."
Nuriko suddenly knew. Something was going on. He had felt it when Tamahome had ordered the searchers to split up. But what? Nuriko shook his head and pushed back the braid. "As I was riding to Eiyo, I happened on a family traveling west. They said there were raids on the Kutou border. Villages plundered, a few burned, advancing armies. I went to help turn the forces back. But it looked like the Kutou military had already managed to get into the country and set a pretty spectacular fire, a bit further in from the border. I couldn't tell for sure where. There were quite a few people hurt where I was, so I sent a messenger on to Eiyo and came back here to get Mitsukake. By then the armies had just disappeared. They must have crossed back into Kutou. Mitsukake, You should come back with me. The people on the border could really use your help. And, Your Majesty, you will be needed at the palace." Nuriko looked to Mitsukake. "I think he should go."
Hotohori looked worried. "How many soldiers? Could the fire have been at the capital?"
"I really couldn't tell, Highness. But don't worry. We've secured the border."
"A large enough fire might appear to be at a location where it is not." Mitsukake stole a glance at Hotohori, and Hotohori caught his eyes with an icy glare.
Nuriko's brows arched in astonishment. Those two were not getting along well, by the look of it.
"What's going on?"
Surprisingly, Mitsukake answered cooly. "We are having a difference of interpretation. His Majesty thinks there is trouble. He believes that Tamahome is under a spell of Nakago's design. I, however, do not accept it."
Nuriko was taken aback. "Tamahome what? I . . . I don't think he is, Highness. He wasn't while we were in the northern kingdom, right? We would have sensed it. And I'm sure he was okay while we were looking for you." He tried to disregard the unease he had felt at the time.
Hotohori leaned forward on the table. A blaze of hope flashed through him. If Tamahome had been with Nuriko . . . Suddenly he hoped very much that he had dreamed it all. "Tamahome and Miaka were with you when you found me?"
Nuriko put his hand behind his head. "Well, no, not really. We'd split up a while before, to help save time looking for you. I haven't seen them since then."
Hotohori put his hand over his mouth. "They must have been taken after you left," he said softly. He dropped his hand. "Nuriko, why didn't you bring Miaka back?"
Nuriko was at a loss. He didn't know what Hotohori was getting at. "Sire. Miaka was with Tamahome when we split up. And you were alone when I found you."
"They were together. Nakago took her, after all."
Mitsukake leaned across the table and spoke with the gentle pressure of one who is right, but wants to soften the blow. "Miaka wasn't there at all. Highness, I have told you that all you thought happened was a dream."
"No!" Hotohori slammed his fist on the table. "I know what happened to me! I know what h-happened to Miaka." His voice dropped and he buried his head in his arms. This was so difficult for him to talk about.
Nuriko took his arm and pulled it away from his face. Hotohori's expression was positively stricken. Nuriko felt a stab of fear. "Emperor! What do you think happened to Miaka?" He backed up a bit and looked Hotohori in the eye. "When I saw her, she was fine. And Tamahome had sent the guard to find the assassin. I'm sure they're fine!"
Hotohori leapt to his feet, shoving his chair back so hard he knocked it over. "You don't understand! I know what happened! The Priestess of Suzaku is dead! I was the one who killed her!" He whirled away, but when he got to the door, Hotohori put his hand to the jamb and slid to his knees. He began to sob with grief. Nuriko put his hand on the Emperor's back, and the others clustered around in horrified silence as Hotohori choked out the whole of his experience. And every point had truth that could be real or dream. There was no way to determine what was right or who was wrong. But for Hotohori the most important question was never answered. Where was Miaka? Nobody knew.