Tales from Heian-Kyo and Others

By Kate Macleod

Kate MacLeod has been published in both fantasy and science fiction. This books collects four of her previously published short stories as well as one new bonus story. These tales span from Heian era Japan to north of the Arctic circle, from light-hearted fare like "Trifle" to the darker "The Onmyoji’s Wife”.
This collection includes:
Tale of a Fox
Blood and Ink
The Onmyoji's Wife
Seagull and Raven
Trifle

• Language: English
• Publisher: Ratatoskr Press
• Release date: Sep 12, 2018
• ISBN: 9781946552020

Kate Macleod

Dr. Kate MacLeod is an innovative inclusive educator, researcher, and author. She began her career as a high school special education teacher in New York City and now works as faculty in the college of education at the University of Maine Farmington and as an education consultant with Inclusive Schooling. She has spent 15 years studying inclusive practices and supporting school leaders and educators to feel prepared and inspired to include all learners.

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Tales from Heian-Kyo and Others

TALES FROM HEIAN-KYO AND OTHERS

KATE MACLEOD

Ratatoskr Press

CONTENTS

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Tale of a Fox

Blood and Ink

The Onmyoji’s Wife

Seagull and Raven

Trifle

Sci-Fi Serial Podcast!

Complete Series: The Travels of Scout Shannon

New Series: The Ritchie and Fitz Sci-Fi Murder Mysteries

Also from Ratatoskr Press

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About the Author

Also by Kate MacLeod

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TALE OF A FOX

For the first time in four years of marriage, Asuka did not find her husband’s awkward manner and shy smiles endearing. She watched in annoyance as Masuyo got to his feet in a lurch, the movement too hurried to be graceful, and then entangled himself in his long sleeves. The bunkan sokutai she had so carefully fashioned for him was wrinkled, all of her long work wasted by his carelessness.

He would not last a day in Heian-kyo.

Asuka bit the inside of her cheek, willing the tears not to come as Masuyo paid his respects to her father and left. She remained seated where she had so carefully positioned herself earlier, to greet her husband in a rare daytime visit.

She had been glowing with happiness when she had received his message and had extended her invitation to come to call. It had seemed the perfect occasion to show off her new juni-hito, her robes of twelve layers. Each layer was a different color: scarlet, gold, reddish brown, shades of green. They perfectly reflected the colors of the maple leaves that covered the mountains behind her. She had chosen her spot well, the long robes carefully draped until she was like an autumn-colored mountain herself. She had even written a poem for the occasion but had never gotten the chance to recite it.

Masuyo, being Masuyo, had noticed none of her efforts. He had spoken of nothing but his own news. He had been accepted by the Onmyo. Soon he would go to Heian-kyo to join the order and continue his study of yin-yang magic.

And Asuka would be left behind in Nagano.

And so I lose my son-in-law and heir, her father said as he returned from seeing her husband out. He will need a new father-in-law in Heian-kyo, one who can help him advance his career.

Perhaps not, she said. The Onmyo is different than other branches of Imperial service. Rank does not matter as much as skill, and Masuyo is a very skilled onmyoji. But even if he does marry again, I will always be his first wife. The other will just be a consort.

"What good is that? It’s merely a title, first wife, her father grumbled. And you with no child; you are easy to leave behind. Four years of marriage and no child; you must be doing something wrong."

Asuka bowed her head under her fierce gaze. I’m only sixteen. There is still time for me to have a child.

Not if you’re in Nagano and your husband is in Heian-kyo. He turned to leave but paused in the doorway, not quite looking back at her as he said, You had best make good use of the time you have left before he leaves. I expect a grandchild.

Yes, father. But he had already gone.

Asuka rose in one smooth motion, the many layers of her robes falling into perfect arrangement with no visible effort on her part, and walked along the garden to her room, the end of her long, black hair whispering along the floorboards behind her.

She went to a lacquered box in the corner and took out the first poem Masuyo had written for her, before they were married. Being a scholar he had written it in Chinese characters, which she could not read, but she knew the words by heart. She had cherished it for years. She had always imagined she could see his love glowing from the calligraphy. Now she wondered, was it a man’s love for a woman she saw, or a poet’s love for his own words?

Asuka put the poem away with a sigh then took out another. This one was written in a scrawl on rough brown paper. No perfume had adorned it, no sprig from a cherry tree. She had never answered it, for what lady would reply to such a coarse overture? But she had never thrown it away either. And if the stories about Nakamura Katashi were true, he might be her only hope now.

Asuka rubbed ink on her inkstone and began composing a reply four years in the waiting.

Nakamura Katashi came to call the very next day. Asuka arranged herself as carefully as she had the day before even though, not being her husband, all Katashi would see of her would be an outline on a screen. She did not mind being hidden, it was only proper, but she did wish that she could see him. She wanted to see his face, to examine his features. Even though he had pursued her as a marriage prospect she had never seen him. Would there be something vulpine in his eyes or in the shape of his nose or mouth? It was said he disdained make-up; through the screen all she could tell was that he had no hat. Such an odd man; surely the stories were true.

Good morning, Lady Asuka, he said as he settled himself before her screen.

Good morning, Nakamura Katashi. Thank you for seeing me so quickly.

Punctuality is a virtue, one I’m sure you prize, my lady, he said. She couldn’t tell if he was mocking her or not.

My husband, she said, has received an appointment to the Onmyo.

So I’ve heard. He is well suited for such a career. This time she was certain he was mocking her.

‘You do not think much of the Onmyo, do you, Nakamura Katashi?"

Or your husband, he added.

Asuka blinked at that blatant