PodCastle

* Authors : Aidan Doyle, Matt Dovey and Shveta Thakrar
* Narrators : Nina Brady, Ramakrishnan and Julie Hoverson
* Host : Summer Fletcher
* Audio Producer : Peter Wood


“In Spring, the Dawn. In Summer, the Night.” is a PodCastle original.
“Autumn Jewels” was originally published in Sisterhood of the Moon.
“Winter Witch” is a PodCastle original.


In Spring, the Dawn. In Summer, the Night.
By Aidan Doyle

It always seems to me that people who hate me must be suffering from some strange form of lunacy.
            – Sei Shōnagon, The Pillow Book, Circa 1000 C.E.
On the third day of the third month, the good people of court traveled by ox-drawn carriage from the Imperial Palace to the Divine Spring Garden, the carriage boys running ahead to ensure the common people didn’t block our way. The colored sleeves of so many elegant ladies showing through the curtains must have been a wondrous sight as the carriages rattled past.

I had arranged my twelve layers of silk robes so the longest sleeves were innermost, displaying my choice of colors to best effect. Pale violet-gray offset with vivid green for spring leaves. I had consulted with the Minister of the Bureau of Clothing, ensuring I had something suitable to wear. At our previous excursion, Lady Nakagawa had been mocked for choosing a shade of green that clashed with yellow.
A directional taboo forced us to travel east, then south-west, rather than proceeding directly to the garden. When we finally arrived, we left the carriages and sat behind painted screens next to the stream that wound its way around the garden.
Empress Teishi wore a scarlet robe over kimonos of light plum, pale green, and yellow rose. As the Empress’ battle poet, I took my place on her right.
To feel truly close to someone you have to understand the things they don’t say. Her Majesty once asked me what I thought about the snow on Xiang Lu. At once I ordered the serving girl to lift the room’s shutters and raise the blind. Her Majesty knew I would understand the reference to the poem by Bai Juyi.
I lift the blind to gaze out at the snow on Xiang Lu.
It’s considered unseemly for women to know Chinese poems, but the Empress and I discussed them all the time. Words are how battle poets defeat the shadows. One can never know too many poems.
The sun shone down on the garden’s ornamental pond and the pine trees surrounding it. The Emperor was not in attendance, but had deigned to send his favorite cat in his place. The cat had recently been awarded the Fifth Rank, officially granting it access to the Imperial Audience Chamber and the right to wear ceremonial headdress. A chamberlain of the Sixth Rank hurried behind the cat, keeping a close watch as it stalked joyfully through the garden.
Unfortunately Lady Nakagawa sat on my right. She was notorious for refusing to pluck her eyebrows or blacken her teeth. Her thick eyebrows gave her face an unpleasing boldness and her teeth resembled peeled caterpillars, gleaming when she smiled. Her only redeeming feature was that she did not often smile.
Wood doves cooed in the branches above us.
“The wood dove is a most pure-hearted bird,” Lady Nakagawa said. “When it’s longing for its mate, it can be comforted by showing it a mirror.”