There was a portly middle-aged man with a gentle smile.
The person who sometimes came to visit his mother,
Gyokuō,
was what she was called. He had heard she was known as the new Yō or something along those lines. More of an old acquaintance, or perhaps a relative. She had originally been of the Dog clan and was presumably one of those who had become the wind.
With her plump face, Gyokuō
gave Rikuson
some candy.
"What a bright-looking child. May I have him for my son?"
"Don't be ridiculous."
That was the kind of banter she had with his mother.
"They're all laughing at you for taking too many wives, you know."
"Well, as long as I can afford to support them, it should be fine."
So he's a womanizer despite how he looks, Rikuson thought, bewildered.
Gyokuō had grown up in one of the larger merchant houses in the Western Capital. As export goods in place of paper, they dealt in silk textiles and ceramics, and as imports, they wholesaled glasswork. They also produced wine in the western part of Dog Province and sold it alongside imported goods. Some customers preferred the luxury appeal of imports, while others favored domestically produced wine, which was slightly cheaper and less acidic.
"So, I'm heading off to Sandō for a bit of purchasing — all to support my wives and children."
"My, is it all right for the head of household to leave the house empty for so long?"
"The kids have all grown up quite a bit. The eldest already has a wife and children of his own. And with my clever wives looking after things, just about everything gets handled."
Rikuson's mother smiled in return at Gyokuō's broad grin.
"More importantly — I hear you've started putting out black stones?"
He heard the words "black stones" once again.
"Yes. When harvests are poor, it can't be helped. We've been wholesaling some to your place as well."
His mother answered. His elder sister also wore a grave expression. Of everyone present, only Rikuson couldn't quite follow the conversation.
"What we've been sending out is all through legitimate channels, right? If things are really that dire, I think I could provide some assistance."
Gyokuō said.
Mother and Elder Sister both wore solemn expressions.
"What would you want in return?"
"That sounds terrible."
"Shrewd as a merchant, but also raising him to be a man of the Tsuchinoe clan — that's the way of it."
"...I'd like to borrow the household registry."
The household registry was a record documenting when and where people living in Tsuchinoe Province had originally come from. While some people had no registry, you at least needed one to establish your identity if you wanted to start doing business in the western capital.
Mother shook her head.
"No. It's an official document. Asking to borrow it means you're planning to alter it, doesn't it?"
"...No good?"
"Besides, I've lent it to"
Lord Hayashi
"as reference material at the moment."
"Ah, I see."
Gyokuō looked disappointed.
"Why do you want to change it?"
"I ended up writing the eldest child's origins truthfully. Someone must have heard about it — farmers from a famine-stricken area showed up, threatened me, and demanded I lend them money."
Gyokuō wore a troubled expression.
"Your first wife... she was from the Wind-Reading tribe, wasn't she?"
"That's right. The Wind-Reading tribe I was supposed to join. When we met again, traces of it still remained. We had crossed paths several times before, after all."
They were speaking of a tribe that had perished. Rikuson wanted to hear more, but Mother told them it was time to sleep.
"Come on, time for bed."
Led by Elder Sister, Rikuson moved to the bedroom.
"Sis, what's the black stone?"
From the bed, Rikuson asked Elder Sister.
"That's not something you need to know yet."
"I told you it's a problem not knowing things, and that you should study, didn't I?"
"...When I say 'black stone,' I mean coal. You find it if you dig far enough into the mountains to the west — it's a stone that burns."
"What about it?"
"When there's a bad harvest, families are so consumed with finding food that they can't afford to buy fuel. Lots of them end up like that."
"Uh-huh."
"We distribute the coal to those families."
"Oh, I see."
If that's all it was, there was nothing wrong with it, Rikuson thought.
"Isn't mining coal really hard work?"
"Yes, it's grueling. We use slaves."
"Slaves?"
The Elder Sister did not look happy about it.
"I'd rather not use them, but that's how it is. However, the more coal a slave mines, the sooner they earn their freedom. I've heard that the fastest ones are freed after five years."
"What about the slow ones?"
"Decades. Some of them used to be part of the Wind-Reading Tribe, back in the old days."
"Don't you let them go free?"
The Elder Sister shook her head.
"They betrayed us. Our late grandmother happened to find out they'd been enslaved and heard the whole story. They'd apparently been planning to defect to another country — including their knowledge of how to handle birds. The women were the leaders there, and the idea of men going out was unthinkable. After spending so long as nomads, they probably came to believe that the patriarchal ways of other lands were the correct ones."
"And that's why grandmother sent them to the mines?"
"Yes. She thought they'd be freed the fastest that way. She also bought several other former Wind-Reading tribespeople as slaves. But apparently those ones claimed they'd been deceived. It seems they expected grandmother to just quietly set them free."
"They could leave if they just worked, though?"
"There's danger involved, of course. But if someone's still there after decades, they may not have been doing anything at all."
"They must hate us," the Elder Sister said.
They must surely hate us.
Who were the Elder Sister's words directed to?
However, she came to understand that the Dog Clan was despised by many people.
The commotion had started since morning. There were people gathered around the estate, grumbling about something.
Rikumago had no idea what was going on, but she held her frightened cousins close, trying to soothe them.
"Sis, what's going on? It's really noisy outside."
"No, it's fine."
It was not fine at all. Her elder sister's face had gone completely pale.
Their mother arrived and spoke to the cousins' mother — that is, Rikumago's aunt. Not the aunt who currently served as head of the Dog Clan, but a different one: the youngest sister, born many years after their mother.
"You, go out through the back. Take the children with you."
Rikumago was among those children.
"The new Yang residence — the house of the newest wife is nearby. You know her, the former dancer. Her children are close in age to yours, and you two got along well, didn't you?"
"B-But—"
"Don't argue! Take these kids and get out, now!"
Their mother drove the aunt out with a commanding tone. Rikumago was pushed along with them.
Meanwhile, their mother and another aunt had gone to the front. Rikumago understood they were standing before the surging crowd, speaking to them — buying time.
"Let's go. Now's our chance."
When they arrived at the house of the newest wife in the Yang family, they found a woman with red hair and green eyes. She noticed Rikumago and the others, beckoned them over, and led them through the back entrance.
"Wh-What is going on here?"
The youngest aunt had a laid-back personality, unlike their mother. She rarely attended the family meetings on equal footing with their mother and the others. Her children were still small, too.
"They're saying the Dog Clan committed fraud, and that they reported it directly to the Central Court."
The red-haired woman lowered her long lashes.
"Fraud?"
"Yes. Falsifying the output of the mines. And—"
"And?"
"They're also claiming that the Dog Clan possesses a male heir of imperial blood, and that the rightful successor belongs to their clan."
"...That can't be possible."
The aunt and the red-haired woman glanced at Rikuson.
"It's fabricated, right?"
"Of course it's fabricated!"
"But what about the father?"
"W-Well, that's..."
Among the Dog Clan, there was a tradition of never clarifying who a child's father was. This was because, in the past, a man had once appeared claiming to be the father of the chief's child and had attempted to seize control of the clan.
Rikuson didn't know who his father was, either.
"It's true that my sister went to the Central Capital before this child was born, but the timing doesn't line up. There's no way he could be the child of royalty — and besides, why would we ever come forward to claim that!"
Just as the aunt said, the Dog Clan never allowed anyone to claim paternity, no matter who the father was. Many relatives suspected the fathers might be foreign ministers or stage actors, but no one ever spoke of it. That was how the women of the Dog Clan conducted their politics.
"The Central Capital isn't so dim as to swallow that story whole. Who do they say delivered the documents?"
"Well, that's—"
The red-haired woman hesitated.
"Apparently, our clan's seal was used."
"What?"
The aunt's eyes flew wide open.
The three sisters had started crying, perhaps unsettled by the aunt's outburst.
Rikuson was powerless to do anything.
"Are you alright?"
A small girl came over.
The green-eyed girl with red hair patted her tiny cousins on the head.
"Ha, take those children and go play in the back."
"Okaaay, Mama."
The red-haired girl grabbed the three sisters by the hand. She tried to pull Rikuson along too, but he shook his head and refused.
"Then what about Lord Gyokuen?"
"No, my husband is away on the expedition to Sa'ou. That's all I know — I can't tell you anything more."
"Th-then..."
"Anyway, go change. There should be some wet nurse's clothes — put those on."
The aunt crumpled to the floor. The cousins hurried off to the children's room.
Could this red-haired woman be trusted? Rikuson wondered.
And then he realized who absolutely should not be here.
"Y-you!"
The red-haired woman tried to stop Rikuson.
But Rikuson shook off her hand and headed for the mansion.
The mine was about the black stones. What the mothers were doing was for the people of Jürsiland. But the Central government, which only judged by surface figures, would never understand.
Yet another fabricated problem. The one needed there was supposed to be Rikuson.
If I went — if I stepped up...
Going wouldn't change a thing. But he had to go. An empty sense of duty drove Rikuson to run.
The mansion had been overrun by a mob. Guards lay beaten to the ground. Some men sat atop the fallen and pummeled them, venting their frustrations like a tantrum. Onlookers cheered. Others watched with anguished eyes. But no one helped.
You never know what people will do when they're pushed to the limit.
He remembered his mother's words.
It had become a kind of festival. At times, people found pleasure in violence. And the Jür clan, which had run the West City despite being women, must have been the greatest eyesore of all to certain people.
Screams like the tearing of silk rang out from every direction.
No — no.
Not his sister's voice. Not his mother's voice.
He heard many familiar voices, but Rikuson ruthlessly set his priorities.
He headed for the room where his sister and mother always were, slipping past men blinded by violence and looting. He kept apologizing in his heart — "I'm sorry, I'm sorry" — to the clan women who reached out toward him.
The thugs, having secured their righteous justification, had transformed into demons consumed by desire.
Sweat poured from his entire body. His fists were drenched, and he panted like a real dog with his tongue hanging out. The more moisture he expelled, the more his throat burned with thirst.
Whenever he was about to run into someone, he quickly ducked away.
Just before his mother's room, he was grabbed from behind in a full nelson. He flailed his legs in a panic.
「Why are you here?!」
It was his older sister. Her face was deathly pale, and she was covering Rikumago's mouth to keep him from screaming. She looked different from usual—her hair was tied back and wrapped in a cloth, and she wore men's clothing.
"Sis. Where's Mother? What's with that outfit?"
"Mother's inside. I'm just... borrowing your coming-of-age clothes for a bit."
"Huh?"
Still not understanding what was going on, he was pulled into the room.
Mother held a sword in her hand.
"Mother—"
Before Rikumago could finish asking, something was forced into his mouth. His sister split a piece of cloth and stuffed a gag into Rikumago's mouth.
"—?!"
"Be quiet. You're too loud."
"You absolutely cannot be found. Do you understand?"
His sister bound his arms and legs on the spot, then with their mother shoved him into a large wicker chest. Sister and Mother closed the lid and carefully placed heavy stones on top.
"You are going to guard the western lands. That is the duty of the Dog's son. Use whatever you can—any tool, anyone who might be useful."
His sister bared her teeth in a grin.
"Is it safe here—the fire?"
"Yes. There's nothing flammable, so it should be fine. Besides, they'll probably use the buildings again, won't they?"
Rikumago had no idea what they were talking about. He peered through the gaps in the wicker mesh.
"Mother, does it suit me?"
"Yes, it does. Maybe this is what you'll look like when you grow up. Don't make a sound, though."
"I know."
He understood his sister and mother's intentions. Right now, Rikumago was the only male child in the Dog clan. If the mob's claim—that claiming royal lineage was an act of disrespect—was to be believed, then Rikumago would be their target.
His sister intended to take his place.
"—?!"
The gag kept him silent. His limbs were bound and he couldn't move. All he could hear was the sound of the mob approaching—beastlike voices, the stench of blood and oil.
My mother swings her sword.
My mother's swordsmanship was like a dance. Beautiful arcs of steel trailed behind each swing, but they were light, fleeting. All she could manage were scratches against her opponent.
Stop. Please, stop.
I bite down on the gag. Saliva seeps out. The bottom of the chest grows slick with tears and drool.
I can do nothing. It's infuriating.
I don't want to remember what happened to my sister, to my mother. But I had to sear the face of the man who committed those atrocities into my memory.
I couldn't even blink.
The glistening fangs slick with saliva. Sun-bronzed skin. Knotted hands, his ears, the texture of his hair. A voice that carried like an actor's. I wasn't just memorizing a face—I was cramming every detail my senses could capture into my head. So that I would never, ever forget.
There was a strange justice in the thug's eyes. The selfish, irredeemable conviction that so long as he found some absolute evil, he could do anything he pleased.
Rage boiling inside me, the sensation of a burning stone pressed against my skin. My body had already been drained of moisture, yet I felt so scorching hot I might evaporate.
This man. This man right here.
The man seized my sister by the head. He grabbed her by the hair and dragged her away.
I wanted to punch him. I wanted to kill him. But I couldn't. If I tried something like that, I'd be killed without even landing a single blow.
My sister and mother had understood. That was why they had locked me away. Tied me up so I couldn't do anything.
No more tears could form in my dry eyes. I could only curse my own weakness. Curse how small and witless and utterly useless I was.
The fury and self-loathing had overloaded Rikuson's mind. At some point he had blacked out. He came to because of a noise.
The thugs are still here? I won't tolerate it anymore. Whatever happens, I'll kill them all.
Rikuson thrashed inside the chest like a caterpillar. As he struggled, the heavy stone placed on top toppled off.
He writhed across the floor, scraping his face against it. Once he managed to work the gag free, he screamed in a ragged voice.
"I'll kill you!"
But the person he was glaring at was a man with tears in his eyes. The man was kneeling before the broken remains of my mother's body.
"I never thought it would come to this…"
I remembered him as a chubby man who used to wear a gentle smile.
Gyoen was there.
Rikuson twisted his body and crawled toward Gyoen, latching onto his leg with his teeth. Had this been the usual Rikuson, he would have handled things more calmly. The tears welling in Gyoen's eyes were tears of pity and remorse—he was hardly someone who deserved to be called an enemy.
Gyoen said nothing, cradling Rikuson as the dog bit into him.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry. This is my fault. It's all my fault."
Even as teeth sank deep into his leg and blood began to trickle, Gyoen went on soothing Rikuson without pulling away.