Beneath an Opal Moon (38 page)

She had had no trouble subduing Aufeya as she scrambled down from the second-story window to the garden of the house. But by that time it had been too late. She was, again, Aufeya, bewildered at being in Corruña, let alone outside her own home. It was some time before they could tell her what happened. She was stoic throughout. Which was more than Chiisai could say for Moichi. He had walked out midway through the telling and now Aufeya knew that there had been something between Moichi and the Senhora Seguillas y Oriwara. Consequently, they had not spoken in two days.

Don Hispete made the sign of the Palliate over the lowered coffin. Chiisai was grateful that the ceremony was at last over. With the swirling of emotions, tension had been at a peak and it seemed as if they had all stood here under the shade of the huge olive tree for half a day, though she knew it had been far less. She was grateful, too, that Moichi had told her they would embark for Sha'angh'sei this afternoon, directly following the service. She had had enough of that dark dispirited house with its gloomy, self-flagellatory paintings and its almost relentless aura of doom. Too, her own decision had been made and she was anxious to return to Sha'angh'sei. She looked at Moichi's glum face and smiled secretly to herself. His attitude would soon change when he got a look at what was waiting for him in Sha'angh'sei.

Everyone had gone, save the three, and now Chiisai turned away without looking at either of them; she no longer belonged here. She heard the sound of someone coming toward her. She stopped and turned. It was Aufeya.

“Are you going back to the house?”

“No, I'm going to the mercado. I want to say good-bye to Martyne before we leave.”

“You—when are you—leaving?”

“This afternoon. Almost immediately.”

Aufeya shook her head, dismayed. “I didn't know. I—”

“If you two had been speaking to each other—” Chiisai was abruptly fed up. She had done as much talking in the last couple of days as she cared to do. “Excuse me.” She walked off.

Moichi stayed on, alone, as the attendant shoveled the dirt into the grave. It had a hollow sound as it hit the coffin's top but that soon changed as the soil built itself higher.

Then the man was gone and Moichi was alone with her. The place was very still.

“I am sorry, Tsuki.” But, as he said the words, he knew how inadequate they were. His shame was so great that, had he been of another folk, he would have killed himself there. But he was Iskamen and that was not his way. He would have to live with his shame. That would be his atonement. He smiled inwardly, sadly, recognizing the voice of his father and his father before him. On and on. The history of the Iskamen inescapable. He might just as well stop breathing, for it flowed through every molecule of his body, through blood and bone, through muscles and sinew, through brain and heart.

Through his mind, then, flashed a scene: the moment just after he had met Chiisai on the dock at Sha'angh'sei. What an odd thing to think of at this time. Then he realized what had jarred the memory. The shindai and her prophesy. What had it been?

The Sun: significator of great change.

The Past:
This is what aids you
. It had been a corpse on a bier. Tsuki, from the past, now dead.

Everyone:
This is what crosses you
. Sardonyx.

And what was he to make of all that?

He became aware of a presence behind him.

“There is nothing—” The words caught in her throat and she swallowed convulsively. Aufeya's mouth was dry because of the fear. She recognized this as the most difficult thing she had had to do in her life. Part of her screamed against it, vexed, a child railing, but she gritted her teeth and plunged onward because deep down she knew that it was her only chance, that without this, she was doomed, chained and bound here forever. “There is nothing she has to forgive you for.”

Moichi stared at her, watched her face, seeing the wild animal in her receding further back with every passing moment. And, abruptly, he understood the depths of his own self-pity.

“I see that, I think.”

She glanced down at the new grave, then back up at him again.

He stood silently, watching her still.

“About the other thing—” she said softly.

“What other thing?” He knew very well what she meant, he just wanted her to say it.

“About you and Mother—”

“It wasn't what you imagine, Aufeya. She wasn't that kind of a person.”

“Don't tell me about it,” she said. “That's all I ask. I just felt—” She broke off and her eyes filled with tears. “She was always so beautiful, so very very beautiful.”

He put his arm around her and they walked away from there. In the spring, the grass would begin to grow over the dark brown earth that no one had bothered to pat down. It would not matter to Tsuki Seguillas y Oriwara, only to those who would come to visit her.

And All the Stars to Guide Me

Sha'angh'sei, eternal Sha'angh'sei, Moichi thought as they entered the harbor, maneuvering around the myriad larger merchant vessels, keeping well clear of the bobbing tasstan close to the bund. How it swells my heart to see your shoreline once again. Yet still, Iskael for me now. Home again.

Chiisai stood on one side of him, unaccountably nervous. Aufeya was on the other side.

“I would come with you to Sha'angh'sei,” Aufeya had said to him.

“But what of the family? The house?”

“There
is
no family, really. Not anymore. Just me. The last of the Seguillas y Oriwara. With Mother gone, Chimmoku no longer wishes to remain. And I no longer belong here.”

“I will not stay in Sha'angh'sei for long, Aufeya.”

She smiled. “Is that a warning?”

“I just want you to know.” He looked at her seriously. “What will you do then?”

“One decision at a time, Moichi. All right?”

He sent a kubaru runner to notify Aerent as soon as they had docked, and Chiisai went with him.

It was near to dusk. The vast sprawling city lay entangled in its smoky matrix. The sky was hazed a deep amethyst, punctured by the flickering lights already coming on along the streets. High up on the hill, the rooftops of the lavish homes of the city's hongs in the walled city were already partially obscured by the mist, as if they belonged to some other far more ethereal world.

Along the jumble of the bund they went, until Moichi hailed a passing ricksha and they were immediately engulfed in the maelstrom of Sha'angh'sei.

They had taken over the long balcony of a restaurant high up in the city yet with a spectacular view of the harbor. Below them, the brown waves washed against the ancient pilings and the bobbing tasstan community was a swarm of light as the kubaru began to clean up after their evening meal.

Aerent sighed expansively and leaned back in his chair. He clapped Moichi on the shoulder. “It is good to have you back, my friend. You were sorely missed.”

“I am sure not,” Moichi said, wiping his lips.

“Oh, gods, he is right, Moichi,” Llowan said from across the table and a litter of platters and plates and empty decanters. “The business is a mess without you.”

Moichi laughed. “Now I know you have both gone mad.”

“What will you do now, Chiisai?” Aerent asked. “Return to Ama-no-mori?”

There was a gleam in her eye. “No, Regent. I've not yet had my fill of the continent of man. Besides, I've never really gotten to see Sha'angh'sei.”

“Very good, lady!” Llowan said, raising his goblet. “Well said! I salute your resolve”—he laughed heartily—“and your nerve. You may, if you wish, reside in Moichi's old quarters.”

“Now wait a minute,” Moichi said. “I did tell you that I was bound for Alara'at but, as you know full well, it won't be as easy as all that. There still are no ships available.”

“Oh,” Aerent said smiling, “we'll get you off, one way or another.”

“As long as it's a proper ship,” Moichi said. “Iskael's a long way south and I do not propose to paddle all the way.”

“Well, if we are finished,” Chiisai said, standing up, “why don't we go for a walk. I haven't had a chance to see Sha'angh'sei by night. Moichi spirited me away far too quickly for that.”

And that was how Chiisai came to give Moichi his second gift from the Dai-San. It was there, as it had been, since the morning she arrived.

“The
Tsubasa
,” she said, smiling. “It's your ship.”

“Mine?” He could scarcely believe it.

“Yes. Now you can go home.”

“Home to Iskael,” he breathed. “And what about you, Aufeya?”

She stood close beside him. “I wish to come with you to Iskael.”

“What? I do not think you have given this much thought. It is not the kind of decision you—”

“On the contrary,” she flared, “I have thought of little else for some time.”

“But, Aufeya—”

Then he saw the hurt in her eyes and he knew the mistake he had made.

“All right!” she exploded. “You're right. It was a childish idea. I don't know where I got the notion you would want me to come!” He reached out for her but she whirled away. She wanted only one thing now: to hurt him as deeply as he had hurt her. “Say it! Say it in front of all your friends. I'm sure they'll understand. You don't want me. You never wanted me. It was my mother! You're like all the rest of them who came into the house. They came in and they saw her. It was always my mother! Why didn't anyone pay attention to
me
?” She flung herself away from the group, running out onto Three Kegs Pier.

Behind her a heavy silence fell like an opaque carpet of snow, damping all sound. Moichi stared at Chiisai for a moment, feeling helpless and alone, but she was studiously staring at the whorls in the wood grain of the pier plankings.

He cleared his throat and went after her.

The world was now a forest of black masts and, beyond it, the vastness of the rolling sea.

He came up to her, stood beside her without touching her, knowing, instinctively, that she would not tolerate that now. The wind, coming in off the sea, whipped her hair back from her face and at that moment, with the moonlight gilding her face, she had never looked more beautiful nor more her mother's child.

“I'm sorry,” he said softly. “You took me completely by surprise and I—”

“Yes, and I'll always be just my mother's daughter to you,” she said acidly. “Why don't you just get away from me.”

“I want you to come with me.”

She said nothing. To their right, past the
Tsubasa
, on Four Winds Pier, a kubaru song started up, bittersweet in the night. He could not see any of them but their voices rose clear and strong in their indomitable hymn.

“Your mother loved you very much, Aufeya. More than anyone or anything else in the world.”

“So she was fond of telling me,” she spat. “Words don't mean anything after a while.”

“Her life had little meaning without you.”

“Do you expect me to believe that?”

“Aufeya, listen to me. She was going back with Hellsturm in order to ensure your safety.” He had not wanted to tell her this but what choice did he have now?

He saw the shock register on her face. “Dihos, no!” she cried. “She wouldn't have!”

“On the contrary, it had already been arranged. And it would have happened, save that Sardonyx crossed Hellsturm.” He reached out for her now. “Aufeya, there is no one your mother could have hated more than Hellsturm.”

“Yes. I learned that, at least, at Mistral.”

“She loved you dearly.” As he said it, he became aware that what he was saying about Tsuki was just as true for his father and himself.

They held each other, as if for the first time, while, beside them, the crew of the
Tsubasa
made ready to get underway.

Dawn.

Llowan was already dockside, having said his farewell. Aerent took his arm, said, “Remember, Moichi, Sha'angh'sei will always be your home.” Then he turned and went down the gangplank in his stiff, articulated walk.

Moichi turned to Chiisai.

“This is not the end, as I once told the Dai-San.”

“No,” she said. “Aerent and I will surely see you again one day.”

They embraced.

“I wish you good fortune, Moichi.”

“And I, you. In all you do.”

Chiisai kissed Aufeya and then she, too, was gone from the ship.

The gangplank was hauled in and he gave the signal. Men scrambled to release the lines fore and aft, and the anchor was weighed.

“All away, pilot!” came the call from his first mate at midships.

“Aye,” he called back, climbing the aft companionway to the high poop deck. “As soon as we are clear of the harbor, set all sail.”

“Very good, sir!”

He looked at the trio still at the edge of the pier. What adventures still awaited them? He turned, gave a series of sharp, barking orders and men scrambled up the ratlines into the shrouds.

The next moments were spent guiding the
Tsubasa
through the difficult and absorbing maze of Sha'angh'sei's harbor. Aufeya went below to change into her sea clothes.

Presently, they were well clear of all ships and he heard the first mate's strong command, then the bright quick snapping as the men broke out all canvas. He's a good one, Moichi thought as he turned to the helmsman and gave him the course: “South by southeast.”

“Aye, sir!”

The ship leapt forward, her bow waves high, her wake thick and creamy.

The sun was rising in the sky ahead of them, turning the deep blue to white near its position. Not a cloud could be seen in any direction, but, far-off, near the western horizon, the pale moon, full now, could just be discerned over the rooftops of fast-disappearing Sha'angh'sei.