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THE ship had departed in the early morning and arrived at the island before sunset. My impression of the island didn’t change with a closer view. Precipitous bluffs lined its circumference, and I spied no docks.
I watched the sailors secure the ship amid the rocky coastline and asked Lord Hiaki, “Um, how are we going to get ashore?”
He jerked his chin. I followed his gaze and saw residents tying a rope ladder to an outcrop of stone. They threw the other end down at us.
“U-Using that thing?” I stammered.
“Yep, that thing. There’s also technically a path across the rocks.”
Stakes had been driven into the earth, and they did resemble a path of sorts. But still! Color drained from my face.
While I stood there like a statue, court officials climbed up the cliff one after another with the aid of the rope ladder.
“Oh, what do I do…?” I whispered to myself. “I guess I’ll have to use magic…”
“Nah, you don’t have to. Here, I’ll help you.” Lord Hiaki lifted me effortlessly.
“Huh?!”
He held me with one arm as he hopped nimbly up the craggy palisade.
“Okay, you can open your eyes now,” he said.
It took everything I had to fight the weakness in my knees. “Thank you,” I managed to say.
He grinned at me, flashing his white teeth. “You’re lucky that your priestess attire includes a divided skirt.”
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AFTER the dreadful “getting ashore” stage, the rest of the journey was pleasant and peaceful. The residents had prepared palanquins and ox-drawn carriages in advance, which carried my group to the estate of the island chief. The facilities were much more varied than I expected, and although I spotted signs of erosion on the houses, I could also see the care the people had put into maintaining them.
Inside the chief’s manse, which also served as the island’s town hall, he welcomed us. “We have been expecting you, Wagtail Priestess.”
I bowed. “I am honored to be a part of an important event, the Irei Festival, on your island. Thank you for your invitation. I am in your capable hands.”
Though exiles, the villagers seemed calm and nonthreatening. They wore commoners’ clothing, their dress far more frugal than that of the people in the imperial court, and their mannerisms were dignified, hinting at their original upbringing.
We were immediately served dinner and even entertained with court music during our meal.
One of the dishes on the menu was a delightful homemade seafood udon. A resident explained, “Unlike the mainland, this island is not very suitable for rice crops, so noodles are our staple instead.”
Another resident nodded. “During the early years of our banishment, just trying to procure food was a struggle, but we could not be complacent and give up in the face of adversity.”
I was moved. “All of you have made many efforts to improve your lives on the island, slowly transforming it to a bountiful one. I admire your determination and diligence.”
The villagers’ reaction was greater than I anticipated. Their eyes lit up over big smiles. “Thank you very much! When we heard from Lord Hiaki that the Wagtail Priestess herself was going to offer prayers to our ancestors, we were very surprised. To think that you are truly a compassionate priestess who would talk even to outcasts like us without discrimination…” Their elation was extreme, hinting at all the hardship they had faced in their exile.
The chief stood and joined the ongoing performance. His skills as a musician were impressive.
Anyway… I glanced at Lord Hiaki, who was drinking from a sake cup next to me. The residents appeared to have an amicable relationship with him. Ah, so that’s why they were merely banished and not executed. They likely have ties with the Gou clan, Lord Hiaki’s family. Probably distant relatives.
The most significant member of the Gou clan is the Right Legate, Lord Hiaki’s father, and Lord Hiaki is the emperor’s Right Wing. Their clan must have been highly influential during the reign of the previous emperor as well. It’s not surprising, then, that some of the rebels’ kin was spared.
As such thoughts ran through my mind, I brought some udon to my lips. The chief finished his performance and bowed to me. “Lady Priestess, those who shared our blood once dared to oppose the previous Amawashi. Our lineage is tainted, and we no longer have the right to pray at the altar.” He sucked in a deep breath. “We can beseech only our ancestors and you, the great Wagtail Priestess.”
My heart sank. They could likely never again set foot on the soil of their homeland. In Orient’s religion, the emperor was the supreme deity, Amawashi. The islanders were sinners who would receive no forgiveness from their god in the afterlife, and they had to live with that knowledge.
However… In the Myth of Beginning, the priestesses weren’t considered goddesses and were instead humans who mediated the relationship between the human king and Amawashi. Though I wasn’t the villagers’ god, as one such priestess I could still offer my prayers to soothe their souls.