The Straw Doll Cries at Midnight by K. Bird Lincoln

Author:K. Bird Lincoln [Lincoln, K. Bird]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Medieval Japan--fiction, Tiger Lily--series, fantasy, K. Bird Lincoln
Publisher: K. Bird Lincoln
Published: 2017-01-03T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fifteen

* * *

FROM INSIDE THE SEDAN chair I could see Uesugi-san’s horse dance back, wheeling around for the third time over the crunching white gravel of the outer courtyard, as eager as Uesugi-san to leave.

The exact opposite of the heavy feeling in my chest.

We appeared to be waiting. Ashikaga had not come to bid farewell to his lieutenant. Possibly Uesugi-san was as reluctant to leave as I without laying eyes on our lordling one final time.

The long line of Little Turtle’s travel head-drape hid her expression. The inside of the sedan chair was a stifling, dim box in the sun’s full afternoon glare. She’d chattered nonstop before, helping me to pack my few belongings when I’d returned to the Residence trailing behind a swift-striding Ashikaga. She’d been so happy to have me as a travel companion. I’d felt ashamed of my inability to join in her glee. Or even to find any words at all that didn’t end with a curse.

But now that I wished for the distraction of chatter, she was silent.

Did she regret leaving Kyoto? Something twinged in my chest. Leaving my lordling? There’d been a time back at the village when Little Turtle had let me know in no uncertain terms that she considered herself the hen to Ashikaga’s tiercel. With sharp words as fussy as Auntie Jay in a snit, she’d fluttered and pecked at me every time I came to the Great House. Sometime after Hell Mountain, though, when Ashikaga returned, triumphant with the Pretender Emperor’s head, Little Turtle had stopped fussing and befriended me instead.

She’d seen how pitifully unprepared I was to be in the Great House, let alone attend on my lordling. Since then, Uesugi-san had received the greater share of Little Turtle’s sighing looks. Under the head-drape, she faced the curtain opening. Watching Uesugi-san? Maybe returning to Ashikaga Village with Uesugi-san was what made her so cheerful. If only my lordling would accompany us, too. Duty bound Ashikaga Yoshinori here in Kyoto. While my heart’s roots bound me to my lordling, Ashikaga had decided that meant less than some misguided feeling that navigating the capital would be simpler without me. A distraction, Ashikaga called me. As if I were a youngling underfoot in Father’s kitchen instead of the only person here who could help.

The yurei. Ashikaga said it was only dangerous to women sleeping near the Daimyo’s rooms at night, but it had hovered so close over the Daimyo’s sleeping form. Straw doll curses were dangerous—even Norinaga-Hosokawa had said so. Hate poisoned the heart until even the yurei itself became so polluted the hate spread beyond the original target. Ashikaga was ill-equipped to handle twisted Jindo magic. I could.

But, oh . . . home meant Little Brother, and Father, and the haven of my own woods unspoiled by the gravel walking-paths required by mincing Kyoto lords, or the constant irritation of countless wood fires, or the pure, restful silence the city never could manage when street peddlers gave harsh cries at all hours.

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