Chapter Three –
Miko's Night
The Grand Namani Shrine was the Ichinomiya of all other shrines in the nation of Forkuzu and stood resolute on a solitary island off the coast of Kyokaido. Iza could see the top-most veranda, with its muted crimson Hinoki cypress walls and railings; the roof with its sweeping chigi glanced through the surrounding phalanx of maples and ume blossoms. Snippets of Jeikob and Jasu's conversation floated up to tickle her face as she went from the palace gates down the narrow, sweeping path that led to the shore. The pointless debate between plum wine and lychee sake ought to have seemed like a refreshing diversion, devoid of tension or tactics. However, the words seemed to rub against the fur of her ears, pushing the hairs at an awkward angle. She had to swallow a sigh at their carefree bantering, irritation making her fingers spasmodically flex around the hilt of the katana sheathed at her side.
She was aware that, at its most basic, their conversation was harmless, but it still irked like a buzzing insect that their focus was on wine and not war. The generals were among the numbered few who were complicit in the charade, and she had their support as they were unified against any more needless killings. The council, however, was a different matter entirely. They were unnecessarily argumentative and indecisive, fixated on minor details such as politics and popularity. This, more than Jeikob and Jasu's debate, drove Iza to tempestuous agitation. Unable to speak during these meetings and required to maintain the farce of Jeikob's emperorship, all she could do was advise Jeikob in concealed whispers. It was far too reactionary and lacked the decisive action and dominance Iza preferred.
As the path continued to spiral downward in ever more narrow bends, Iza wondered, not for the first time, what it would take to end the needless feuding. She felt confident that, at its core, there was ethnic bias - each race felt most entitled to the crown, bolstered by years of isolation and self-superiority. Their stubborn refusal to negotiate in any meaningful way only prolonged the conflict, feeding into the ridiculous notion that one race was above the other. What they failed to acknowledge, though, was that in the face of a blazing supernova, what was wind, water, and thunder?
Finally, they reached the shore. A narrow wood plank footbridge spanned the distance between Kyokaido proper and the Grand Shrine, with naught more than calf-level scarlet posts as a barrier. Two guards flanked the entrance, wide-brimmed hats pulled low over their eyes. Iza approached the pair, several long paces ahead of Jeikob and Jasu. Visitation to the shrine had been strictly limited since the onset of the war, with most only being allowed inside the outer gates to pray at a communal shrine. Guards would be posted on the other side also, as Iza knew, and would escort anyone who came to visit to ensure their compliance. The Miko was sacrosanct, a faceless, ageless relic that reflected the people's devotion and beliefs, and it was kept with almost as much care as the emperor.
"Your majesty the Ammako Emperor demands to speak with the Miko Rozari." Iza said, voice level but cool.
Without speaking, the guards nodded, turning in perfect synchronization to take a wide step backward before falling into a low bow as Jeikob approached. At their show of respect, Jeikob looked at Iza, laughter lighting in his eyes. She hissed under her breath at his immaturity and swept past him and Jasu, robes flying, as her long strides carried her swiftly along the winding bridge.
A thrumming of steps alerted her to Jeikob's pursuit; she scowled as his hand touched on her upper arm, just beneath her shoulder plate, but did not pull away.
"Oh, come now, Iza. It really is quite amusing. They bow for a man who is but a solider, and ignorantly dishonor their Empress. Surely you can see the irony." His voice was light, trilling with breezy humor.
Behind them, Jasu scoffed, the sound laced with mirth. "Irony is not a concept of which our Empress understands, Jeikob. Best you hold your tongue, lest she cut it out."
The needling was well-worn and, while not particularly entertaining to Iza, was a routine in which she had a vast well of experience to draw against.
"I would, but he would find other, more insipid ways to test my serenity. I do wonder, though, if Jeikob has been put any considerations toward the counsel's persistent nagging to find him a queen. Tell me, Jasu, have you any suitors in mind?"
At this, Jasu burst into a fit of laughter, cackling as if meaning to wake the peaceful dead. While well-known to both Iza and Jasu that Jeikob had a suitor, the counsel would have found the union most egregious; Samu Ururi was but a commoner, and a man at that. While same-sex relationships were not regarded unfavorably among Kitsune and a commoner could be abided, an heirless emperor would not.
Jeikob flushed at Iza's jesting, and removed his hand from her arm to bury both fists in his robes. "If you both are quite satisfied now, might I inquire if your sister has received word to expect us, Jasu?"
The man shrugged, unconcerned with the holiness that enveloped his younger sibling. "I should think it matters not; you know how she and Iza get along. If dusk were not already darkening the horizon they would be as impossible to pull apart as two old matrons."
The bantering had carrier them to the far side of the bridge, where two more guards on the opposite side of a minor slope moved to flank them as the group crossed. Iza halted them with a sweeping hand, a steely hardness glinting in her opal eyes.
"I should think I alone would suffice to guard the emperor among shamans and Mikos. Dismissed, the pair of you."
She made to turn and continue following Jasu and Jeikob, but the men persisted in their hovering. Jeikob turned as Iza snarled, furious, and made his way the short distance back to where she stood, surrounded by an aura of contempt so thick it was suffocating.
"My guardian has the authority to speak on my behalf; you are dismissed." At his simple words the men nodded, dipping into a low bow before returning to their posts.
Jeikob did not jest this time but rather cast a sideways glance toward Iza's irate visage. Those who knew her best understood that Iza was as intolerant as she was inspiring and impatient as she was strong-willed. Disobedience was a savage affront to her personality by itself; layered with her concealed status, it made for a volatile cake of gun powder.
Iza was well beyond pacifying contrivances, so she spent the remainder of the walk to the shrine in silence. As she crossed through the main gates, she noted a single door closed in preparation for retiring for the evening. The other door closed behind them, but she paid it no mind as her party made their way into the shrine proper. On the other side of the room was a circular double door, draped in thick twists of rope that were adorned with many dangling shide. The zigzagging paper streamers fluttered in an abrupt breeze as the doors opened, revealing the inner courtyard reserved for the Miko's personal use.
A pond sat on one edge, bubbling tranquilly as it was fed by a stream that wove its way through soft emerald blades of grass and sakura trees. At the far end was a raised platform, ringed by brilliant ruby posts and fencing, which proudly displayed a rock-hewn relief of the Ammako goddess herself. A blonde Kitsune sat at the base of the statue, legs folded parallel beneath her in a traditional prayer pose. At the entrance of the group, she stood, her gold and ruby earrings shimmering in the fading light, and turned to face them.
With adoration for her closest friend warming her body, Iza smiled softly. While Jeikob was family and a close ally, it was difficult to compare their friendship to Iza and Rozari's. The Miko returned Iza's expression as she descended the platform stairs and crossed the quiet garden to greet the trio. As she approached, she removed her hands from the sleeves of her robes and, grabbing Iza around the middle, gathered her into a sweeping hug.
Iza hissed in mild annoyance, her slender fingers swatting Rozari on the back. The Miko burst out in a trilling, tinkling laugh before setting the harassed woman down, mischief alight in her eyes.
"Should one feel honored that the mighty Ammako, heir apparent to the Sun herself, deigns to grace my humble shrine, even knowing this visit is but purely conversational?" Rozari purred, her voice low and mysterious.
Iza rolled her eyes at Roze's melodrama, and ruffled the blonde locks of the Miko. "My dear Roze, please do not patronize me, you know I have neither the temperament nor the time. I come seeking your company and your altruistic insight, if you would be so gracious."
Roze chuckled, ducking out from under Iza's hand, and smacked a folded fan she was clutching into her palm. "Then be gracious I shall. Jasu," she said, bestowing a kiss upon her brother's cheek, "and Jeikob, your majesty." She greeted the false monarch, her low bow filled with false reverence, a sly grin toying upon her lips.
With a groan Iza leveled a firm but warm stare at Roze. "Please do not encourage him; he already thinks himself too big for his hakama. You're going to give him a complex."
More paper ribbons fluttered from the sweeping branches of a quivering sakura tree, and Iza trailed behind Roze as she guided them to a little table beneath it. Iza positioned herself lotus-style opposite Jeikob, with Roze to her right and Jasu to her left. The Miko looked at Iza, her face growing ever-more playful.
"What insight do you seek, dearest Iza? My ears have heard tell of an assassin attempting to slit your throat, though I see it is was to no avail."
Iza smirked at Roze's omniscient-like knowledge, then nodded slightly. "If the other Clans have grown so desperate to unseat me, then I must move with yet-harsher decisiveness to unite them. My counsel has no tangible answer, and my generals only want to see the conclusion of the war in any manner I deem fit. What would you suggest, were you in my position?"
A small smile swept across Roze's face as her head bowed, deep violet eyes closed in contemplation. She remained that way for several long heartbeats, the wind crossing the courtyard lifting and pulling at her blonde strands and sparkling earrings. Finally, she raised her head, amethyst eyes colliding with Iza's moonstone.
"I offer you this, Iza. To ferret out the perpetrators you seek and bring this conflict to resolution, I suggest you seek harmony in unity."
The Miko's word were wise, though vague. A frown pulled Iza's mouth down, exasperation shadowing her face. She had not expected Roze to be forthcoming, though she had expected her friend to offer more than what Iza had already been attempting for years.
With an absentminded wave of her hand, Iza summoned a temple attendant who was waiting beneath a far pavilion a respectful distance away.
"I shall think on your words, my friend. For now, I shall allow us this short respite."
Roze's answering chime-like laughter filled the courtyard as the attendant approached, now bearing a tray with four cups and an opaque, painted clay bottle. "Only should you allow yourself flexibility in the meantime, Iza. Unfasten your pauldrons, and try to enjoy simply being for once."
As the cups were distributed by Jasu, then filled by Jeikob, Iza tried to heed Roze, and allowed herself a genuine smile for the first time in years.
GLOSSARY –
Chigi – V-shaped projections from the ridge pole of a shrine's roof; the cut of the ends indicates the sex of the deity of the shrine: vertical cut for male and horizontal for female
Miko – a shrine maiden or young priestess; in the nation of Forkuzu a Miko is seen as a direct link between humanity and their kami, placing them just beneath the Ammako and the Shoguns
Shide – a zig-zag shaped paper streamer
Hakama – pants. In context is referring to Iga-bakama, a variation of hakama that is tighter in the lower legs, loose around the thighs, and is tied around the calves. Comfortable and convenient for walking; often favored by military personnel and pilgrims