Free Emperor of the Eight Islands: Book 1 in the Tale of Shikanoko (The Tale of Shikanoko series) by Lian Hearn

pleasant autumn days, Tama allowed the children to play outside. They did not return for the midday meal, but she assumed they were eating with their former nurse, Haru. Haru had two children of the same age, Chika and Kaze, and the four often played together. She was busy overseeing the fulling of cloth, and reflecting, as the heavy sound rang out in the still air, how peaceful Matsutani was, when one of the maids approached her.
    “Lady, the children are not back yet.”
    “Where is Shikanoko? They are probably trailing after him somewhere.”
    “The men say he went out earlier with his horses,” the girl replied. “He didn’t take the children.”
    “They must be at Haru’s. Go and get them; it will be dark soon and it is time they came home.”
    “Lady,” the girl said nervously. “I have been to Haru. They are not there. They called at her door in the morning, but her two children are sick, so she told them not to come in. She thinks they might have gone up toward the Darkwood. Her husband is out looking for them.”
    The first sense of unease pricked her and immediately she began assigning blame. Kiyoyori should not have left them so unprotected; he should never have let that woman into their home, or, come to that, the old man Sesshin. Some sorcery was at work. Shikanoko had stolen them. They had been abducted by foxes or wild mountain men for secret rituals, to be carved up or eaten. She began to run toward Haru’s house. From the forest she could hear men’s voices calling hauntingly. Tsumaru! Oh-e! Hina! But the only response was the whir of a startled pheasant and the hooting of owls as dusk fell.
    Then from the other direction, from the road that led west, she heard shouts that were more relieved, joyful in tone.
    They have been found!
    She ran back to the west gate and saw a cluster of people hurrying toward her, carrying … O Merciful Heaven, not a corpse! And only one? Where is the other?
    It was Hina; she looked limp, lifeless, and Tama feared the worst. Her heart was threatening to choke her, but the child stirred when she took her in her arms. She was alive. She had been struck on the temple, the bruise already darkening the pale, delicate skin. She opened her eyes and stared vacantly at her stepmother. Her pupils were dilated and she did not seem to know where she was.
    “Hina,” Tama cried. “What happened? Where is Tsumaru?”
    Light came back into the child’s stare. “Mother,” she said haltingly. “Men took him. I tried to stop them. One of them smacked me.”
    “What sort of men? What did they look like? Was Shikanoko with them?”
    “No! He would have protected us. It wasn’t him. Oh, my head hurts so much!”
    Kongyo, Haru’s husband, arrived at Tama’s side. “Lady, I would it had been my son.”
    “Why was no one watching them?” she said in anger. “How can one child be snatched away and the other left for dead, and no one saw?”
    “They often hide,” Kongyo said. “It’s no excuse, I know, but it’s a game they play. They can cross the whole estate without anyone seeing them.”
    “Your children taught them this! They must be punished!”
    “Whatever my lady commands.”
    “Ride to the capital,” she cried, with a mixture of dread and anger. “Lord Kiyoyori must be told.”
    “It is almost dark, Lady Tama.”
    “Take torches! Ride all night! And remember, your children are now hostages to me.”
    She herself carried Hina inside and then gave her to her waiting-women, who laid her carefully down and began to apply compresses soaked in vinegar to the bruise. The girl vomited once or twice, pale, pearl-hued strands unlike any food she might have eaten, and then fell into a deep sleep.
    Tama stared obsessively at the black eyelashes quivering against the fragile skin, through which she could see the faint blue veins where the blood pulsed slowly, and listened to the unnaturally heavy breathing. She shook Hina gently, but the girl did not waken. Slowly the