The fifth year of Emperor Bidatsu's reign, Uzuki. Asuka, Tachibana Palace.
The morning after the banquet.
The sky was clear as if by magic. Perhaps yesterday's storm had washed the dust from the air; the mountain ridges seemed close enough to touch. Thin morning mist drifted across the fields of Asuka, and sparrows chirped from the rooftops.
Toyomimi rose with the sun.
As he walked down the corridor, he sensed that people were already stirring. The palace attendants were bustling about. They were not cleaning up after last night's banquet. They were carrying things. Sacks of rice. Bundles of dried fish. Jars packed with miso.
The travel preparations had begun.
At breakfast, Imibe made an announcement.
"The Fuchi-kami princess, Mizuwa, has still not arrived."
Five princesses and Toyomimi sat around the breakfast trays. The seating arrangement remained disordered from the banquet the night before. Sugaru sat beside Toyomimi, Nagi across from them, Kana and Rōhina side by side, and Amaori at the far end, slightly apart from the others.
Imibe continued.
"Her village lies deep in the mountains at the headwaters of the Hii River, in Oku-Izumo. It is far from Asuka."
Toyomimi set down his chopsticks.
"I'll go meet her."
Imibe's eyes widened. The five-year-old had already made up his mind without even waiting for Imibe to finish reporting.
"Why didn't Mizuwa come?"
For just an instant, Imibe's eyes wavered.
"...The Fuchi-kami people live in the water. Traveling over land is not easy for them."
It was not a lie. But it was not the whole truth, either. Toyomimi sensed that, but did not press him now.
"I understand. We'll go to Fuchi-kami Village."
Sugaru stopped with her chopsticks halfway to her mouth.
"Fuchi-kami Village? That's at the headwaters of the Hii River, right? I know it."
All five princesses looked at Sugaru.
"The Hii River is formed by dozens of streams flowing down from the mountains of Oku-Izumo. There are ridges, valleys, and waterfalls between the streams. Kaku-kari Village lies at the back of one of them. Fuchi-kami Village is in another stream valley—farther over the mountains. It takes a full day from Kaku-kari Village. There isn't a road."
Nagi raised an eyebrow.
"There isn't?"
"No. That's why the Fuchi-kami people have lived there without being found by anyone. They live behind a waterfall. The only way in is through the water."
Kana tilted her head.
"Through the water?"
"Yeah. There's a huge waterfall upstream on the Hii River. There's a cave behind it. The entrance is underwater. You have to dive to get inside."
Amaori spoke for the first time.
"How many days?"
Her voice was low, but precise.
Sugaru counted on her fingers.
"Seven or eight days on foot from Asuka to Izumo. Then two days into the mountains to Kaku-kari Village. From Kaku-kari Village to Fuchi-kami Village, another day over the mountains. Eleven or twelve days in all."
Nagi murmured,
"We'll need twelve days' worth of food and travel supplies."
When breakfast ended, the palace sprang into motion.
Nagi was the first to stand.
"I'll handle the food."
Imibe's eyes widened. He presumably had not intended to have a princess pack supplies. But Nagi was already walking toward the kitchen.
When Nagi entered the kitchen, she stood before the palace attendants.
"Prepare twelve days of food. Six people: five princesses and one Toyomimi."
Nagi folded her arms. Her sun-browned face took on a calculating look. Her eyes had learned through experience to calculate how many days of water and food were needed at sea, and how many extra days a change in the wind would add.
"Rice. At three go per person per day, six people for twelve days comes to twenty-one shō and six go. One sack and a little more. That's heavy."
"Princess, please use the palace rice. We have good rice."
"It doesn't need to be good rice. It needs to be light. Small, hard grains. The kind that swells when cooked. Rice that absorbs water easily."
The palace attendants exchanged glances.
Nagi continued.
"Miso. This is light. Dried meat and dried fish. Salt. Put the rapeseed oil in bamboo tubes. Dried soy sauce—do you have any?"
"Dried soy sauce?"
"Soy sauce boiled down and hardened. Add water and it turns back into soy sauce. It's light. We load it onto boats in Naja Village."
The palace attendants had never heard of it. Nagi almost clicked her tongue, then stopped herself.
"If you don't have any, we'll make it. Just boil soy sauce down in a pot. It takes half a day. And—"
Nagi looked around the corner of the kitchen.
"Do you have bamboo tubes? Thick ones."
"We do."
"Soak soybeans in water and put them in the bamboo tubes. They'll sprout while we're walking. We can eat them starting on the third day. On mountain roads where we can't get fresh greens, they're the best thing."
The palace attendants' expressions changed. These court women, neither mountain folk nor sea folk, were being drawn in by the words of this sun-browned fifteen-year-old girl.
"And alcohol."
"Alcohol?"
"Not for drinking. For barter. If we meet people in the mountains, they'll be happiest to receive alcohol. Three or four small gourds. More than that would be too heavy."
Nagi faced the palace attendants and worked through the list item by item. She weighed each object's heaviness against its bulk, compared shelf life with nutrition, and calculated how much could be loaded onto the packhorses.
One of the attendants murmured,
"Princess, you must be very good at cooking."
Nagi fell silent for just a moment.
"I'm not. At sea, choosing the wrong food means death. That's all."
Her tone was curt, but Nagi's hands never stopped. She lifted a bundle of dried fish, smelled it, and tested its hardness with her fingers.
Around the same time.
The palace stables.
Rōhina was inspecting the horses.
There were twelve horses in the stables of Tachibana Palace. Rōhina looked at them one by one as she passed. Their legs. Their hooves. The height of their backs, the breadth of their chests, the light in their eyes.
The Yama Clan were a people of horses. On the northern shore of Lake Biwa, they forged iron and raised horses. The blood of a people who had come from the Caspian Sea, crossed the Altai, and traversed the Mongolian steppes carried the memory of horses in its veins.
Rōhina stopped in front of one horse.
A chestnut mare. Small, but thick-legged. Hard hooves and a short back. A body made for mountain roads.
Rōhina placed a hand on the horse's neck. The horse snorted.
"You've walked in the mountains before, haven't you?"
She peered into the horse's eyes. Gray-blue eyes met black.
"The wear on your hooves is different. You're not a lowland horse."
The stablemaster approached.
"That horse came from Yoshino. She was raised in the mountains and has a fierce temper, but—"
"A fierce horse is good. A horse that panics on mountain roads is useless."
Rōhina lifted each of the horse's legs in turn and examined the undersides of its hooves. They were not cracked. The hoof walls were thick.
"This one, and that gray horse. And—"
Rōhina looked around the stables.
"We need horses to carry the baggage. Docile ones with broad backs. Two."
"Packhorses?"
"They'll carry food and supplies. No one will ride them. So they don't need speed. But they need legs that can keep walking for twelve days."
Rōhina selected horses as she spoke with the stablemaster. Each time her fingers slid over a horse's body, the iron bracelets on her wrists gave a faint chime.
Toyomimi arrived.
Small footsteps echoed across the packed earth of the stable. Rōhina turned to find the five-year-old standing at the entrance.
"Rōhina."
"...Prince Toyomimi."
Rōhina seemed slightly at a loss. She did not know how to interact with the imperial prince's son.
"I want to choose my horse."
Toyomimi spoke directly.
Rōhina looked down at him. The seventeen-year-old blacksmith and the five-year-old imperial prince's son were vastly different in height.
"...Can you ride?"
"No. That's why I'll learn while I ride."
The corner of Rōhina's mouth twitched. Perhaps she had smiled.
"Come."
Rōhina led Toyomimi deeper into the stables.
She stopped before one horse. A bay mare. Small—one head shorter than the other horses.
"This one."
"Why?"
"She's small. You're small. You'll fit."
Toyomimi looked up at the horse. The mare lowered her head and brought her nose close to Toyomimi's face. Warm breath brushed his cheek.
"Is that all?"
"That's not all. This horse has good eyes and good ears. She watches where she steps and chooses her own way. Even if the rider is clumsy, the horse will pick the path. A horse like this is best for a first-time rider."
Toyomimi reached out and touched the horse's muzzle. The mare narrowed her eyes.
"What's her name?"
The stablemaster answered.
"She has none. She was brought here from the mountains of Yoshino, and—"
"I'll give her one."
Toyomimi looked into the horse's eyes.
"Asagiri."
Rōhina looked at Toyomimi.
"Because she's quiet like the morning mist, and can go anywhere, just like the morning mist."
Rōhina said nothing. Only a small light kindled deep in her gray-blue eyes.
This child was observant. He could read a horse's temperament at a glance.
In the early afternoon.
Travel supplies were laid out in the palace courtyard.
Sacks of rice. Jars of miso. Bundles of dried meat and fish. Bags of salt. Bamboo tubes of rapeseed oil. Chunks of dried soy sauce that Nagi had boiled down. Five bamboo tubes of soybeans for sprouting. Four gourds of alcohol for barter.
Nagi stood before the supplies with her arms folded.
"It's heavy."
"Should we reduce it?"
Rōhina stood beside her, wiping sweat from her brow after finishing her horse selection.
"No. We'll change how it's divided."
Nagi spoke while studying the supplies.
"The rice and miso go on the packhorses. Each person carries their own portion of dried meat and fish. Divide it into individual portions and replenish them from the packhorses every three days. Salt and oil are light, so someone can hang them from their waist."
"The bamboo tubes of sprouts?"
"Tie them to the sides of the packhorses. They'll sway as we walk, letting the water circulate. Perfect."
Rōhina looked at Nagi.
"You're used to this sort of thing."
"It's the same as loading a boat. If you get the weight distribution wrong, the boat tips over."
Nagi spoke matter-of-factly. But her eyes measured every item with precision.
Kana came out into the courtyard, a small bird perched on her shoulder.
"Can I help with anything?"
"Bring medicine. Wound ointment, stomach medicine, something for fevers, and insect repellent."
"I already prepared them."
Kana took four small cloth pouches from her sleeve.
"This is for wounds, made by mixing honey and medicinal herbs. This is for stomachaches, dried ginger and dried citrus peel. This is for fevers, a decoction of willow bark. And this is insect repellent, made from crushed camphor leaves."
Nagi accepted them and smelled each one.
"...They smell good."
"Of course. They're Garan Clan medicine."
Kana smiled. Nagi looked away. The two whose ancestors were supposed to have been at odds for generations now stood naturally side by side in front of the travel supplies.
Toward evening.
In the palace's rear garden, Sugaru was drawing on the ground.
She used a stick to mark lines in the dirt—the shape of rivers, mountains, and roads.
"This is Asuka."
Sugaru marked a dot with the stick.
"We go west from here. We cross the Yamato Basin, then cross the mountains. We come out in Harima, pass through Mimasaka, and enter Hōki. There are roads as far as here—roads people use."
Toyomimi crouched beside her, studying the map in the dirt.
"What comes after Hōki?"
"We enter the mountains. The mountains of Izumo. There are no more roads after this. We follow game trails and streambeds. Kaku-kari Village is here."
Sugaru marked another dot.
"Fuchi-kami Village is here. We cross ridge after ridge from Kaku-kari Village and walk for a full day. One of the headwaters of the Hii River. It's where the water rises from the earth."
Nagi leaned over the map from behind them.
"Can't we follow the river?"
"No. The upper Hii River runs through deep valleys. There are cliffs. We'll have to go upstream along the streams."
"Can the horses get through?"
Sugaru tilted her head.
"They can make it as far as Kaku-kari Village. Beyond that—"
Rōhina cut in.
"We'll decide after examining the horses' legs. A horse used to mountain roads can walk along streambeds. The packhorses may have trouble, though."
"What if the packhorses can't get through?"
"Unload them and carry everything ourselves."
Nagi grimaced.
"People are going to carry food for six people?"
"Only enough for the last day. By the time we reach Kaku-kari Village, we'll have eaten ten days' worth. What's left will be light."
"...True. By the tenth day, there'll hardly be any rice left. If we divide up what's left, we can carry it."
Sugaru grinned.
"You're smart, Nagi."
"I'm not smart. I'm just counting."
Amaori was standing beneath a tree before anyone knew it.
No one had noticed her. Sugaru turned around and jumped.
"How long have you been there?!"
Amaori did not answer. She was looking at the map in the dirt.
"You said there was no road when you enter the mountains from Hōki."
"Yeah."
"If there is no road, it will be easier to notice anyone following you."
Sugaru's eyes widened.
"Anyone following us?"
Amaori said nothing and stepped back beneath the tree's shadow.
Only Toyomimi thought about what Amaori's words meant.
The sun went down.
The travel preparations were nearly complete.
Four horses: Toyomimi's Asagiri, the chestnut mountain horse chosen by Rōhina, and two packhorses. The princesses would walk.
Twelve days of food. The supplies Nagi had finished preparing with the palace attendants were lean and efficient, with nothing unnecessary—yet nothing missing.
Kana's medicine. Sugaru's knowledge of the road. Rōhina's horses. And Amaori's—no one yet knew what she would contribute.
Toyomimi sat across from his father and mother at dinner.
Prince Tachibana no Toyohi stared intently at his son's face.
"You're leaving tomorrow."
"Yes."
"It's a long journey."
"Yes."
Prince Toyohi was silent for a while.
Princess Anahobe no Hashihito took Toyomimi's hand and enclosed his small hand in both of hers.
"Bedrūd bāsh."
Words from Persia—stay well.
Feeling the warmth of his mother's hands, Toyomimi nodded.
"I'll be back."
Prince Toyohi said,
"Toyomimi. This is the journey you argued for and won. See with your own eyes, hear with your own ears, and think with your own mind. Come back and tell me all about it."
Toyomimi smiled.
"Father, I'll bring back plenty of stories."
Night.
The princesses were making their travel preparations in their separate rooms.
Sugaru wiped the blade of her sacred sword, Toyokaku Muko, with a cloth. Her body trembled at the thought of the journey beginning tomorrow. It was not fear. She was excited.
Nagi was making a final check of the supplies. She counted each item with her fingers, weighed the loads in her hands, and rearranged the distribution in her head. Once everything was finished, she took a small cloth pouch from inside her robe and looked inside. It held two handfuls of seed rice that had not been selected for planting. Nagi tucked it back into her robe without a word.
Rōhina was in the stables. She was giving tomorrow's horses water and fodder, stroking each one's neck in turn. Her iron bracelets had grown warm from the horses' body heat.
Kana was looking at the sky through her room's window. The little bird on her shoulder was asleep. What kinds of birds would be flying over the road they would walk tomorrow?
Amaori lay awake in the dark room. She was not unable to sleep. She simply did not sleep. In the forest, the ones who sleep are the ones who die first.
Toyomimi lay with his eyes closed beneath his bedding.
Starting tomorrow, he would walk.
He would leave his father and mother's palace and walk unfamiliar roads. With the five princesses. He would go meet Mizuwa. He would go meet the sixth one, the one who had not come.
Toyomimi remembered the sixth empty seat.
He wanted to meet the person who would sit there.
He wanted to ask why she had not come.
Thinking this, the five-year-old child fell asleep.
Stars appeared above Tachibana Palace.
Tomorrow's sky would be clear.