Brilliance of the Moon

by Lian Hearn

  From the thick grove that surrounded the shrine, owls were hooting, and Shizuka’s sharp ears caught the high squeaking of bats.

  “Can you still hear them?” her grandmother said, peering at the fleeting shapes. “And I can barely see them! That’s the Kikuta in you.”

  “My hearing is nothing special,” Shizuka said. “I wish it were.”

  A stream ran through the grove, and fireflies glowed along the bank. The gates loomed before them, vermilion red in the faint light. They passed beneath them and washed their hands and rinsed their mouths at the fountain. The cistern was of blue-black stone, and a dragon forged from iron kept guard over it. The mountain spring water was icy cold and pure.

  Lamps burned in front of the shrine, but it seemed deserted. The old woman placed her offerings on the wooden pedestal in front of the statue of Hachiman, the god of war. She bowed twice, clapped her hands three times, and repeated this ritual three times. Shizuka did the same and found herself praying for the god’s protection, not for herself or for her family, but for Kaede and Takeo in the wars that would certainly engulf them. She was almost ashamed of herself and was glad no one could read her thoughts—no one but the god himself.

  Her grandmother stood staring upward. Her face seemed as ancient as the carved statue and as full of numinous power. Shizuka felt her strength and her endurance, and was moved by love and reverence for her. She was glad she had come home. The old people had the wisdom of generations; maybe some of that wisdom would be transferred to her.

  They remained motionless for a few moments, and then there was a bustle of sound, a door sliding open, footsteps on the veranda. The shrine priest came toward them, already in his evening clothes.

  “I didn’t expect anyone so late,” he said. “Come and drink a cup of tea with us.”

  “My granddaughter is back.”

  “Ah, Shizuka! It’s been a long time. Welcome home.”

  They sat with the priest and his wife for a while, chatting casually, catching up with the gossip of the village. Then her grandmother said, “Kenji will be ready for you now. We must not keep him waiting.”

  They walked back between the darkened houses, now mostly silent. People slept early at this time of year and rose early to start the spring work, preparing the fields and planting. Shizuka recalled the days she had spent as a young woman, ankle-deep in the rice fields, planting the seedlings, sharing her youth and fertility with them, while traditional songs were chanted by the older women on the banks. Was she too old to take part in the spring planting now?

  If she married Kondo, would she be too old to have another child?

  The girls were cleaning up the kitchen and scouring the dishes when they returned. Taku was sitting where Shizuka had sat earlier, his eyes closing, his head nodding.

  “He has a message for you.” Miyabi laughed. “Wouldn’t give it to anyone but you!”

  Shizuka sat down beside him and tickled his cheek. “Messengers can’t fall asleep,” she teased.

  “Uncle Kenji is ready to talk to you now,” Taku said importantly, and then spoiled the effect by yawning. “He’s in the living room with Grandfather, and everyone else has gone to bed.”

  “Where you should be,” Shizuka said, pulling him into her arms. She hugged him tightly and he relaxed against her like a little boy, nuzzling his head into her breasts. After a few moments he began to wriggle and said in a muffled voice, “Don’t keep Uncle Kenji waiting, Mother.”

  She laughed and released him. “Go to bed.”

  “Will you still be here in the morning?” He yawned again.

  “Of course!”

  He gave her a sweet smile. “I’ll show you everything I’ve learned since I last saw you.”

  “Your mother will be astonished,” Miyabi said.

  Shizuka walked with her younger son to the women’s room, where he still slept. Tonight she would have him next to her, hear his childish breathing through the night, and wake in the morning to see the relaxed limbs and the tousled hair. She had missed that so much.

  Zenko slept in the men’s room now; she could hear his voice questioning Kondo about the battle of Kushimoto, where he had fought with Arai. She heard the note of pride in the boy’s voice when he mentioned his father’s name. How much did he know of Arai’s campaign against the Tribe, of his attempt on her life?

  What will happen to them? she thought. Will their mixed blood be as destructive to them as Takeo’s?

  She said good night to Taku, walked through the room, and slid the door open to the next room, where her uncle and grandfather sat waiting for her. She knelt before them, touching her brow to the matting. Kenji smiled and nodded, saying nothing. He looked at his father and raised his eyebrows.

  “Well, well,” the old man said. “I must leave you two together.”

  As Shizuka helped him to his feet, she was struck by how much he, too, had aged. She walked with him to the door, where Kana was waiting to help him get ready for bed.

  “Good night, child,” he said. “What a relief it is to have you here in safety in these dark days. But how long will we be safe anywhere?”

  “Surely he’s being overly pessimistic,” she said to her uncle as she returned. “Arai’s rage will subside. He’ll realize he cannot eradicate the Tribe and that he needs spies like any other warlord. He’ll come to terms with us.”

  “I agree. No one sees Arai as a problem in the long term. It would be easy enough to lie low until he’s calmed down, as you say. But there is another matter that could be far more serious. It seems Shigeru left us an unexpected legacy. The Kikuta believe he kept records of our networks and members and that these records are now in Takeo’s possession.”

  Her heart stopped in her throat. It seemed to her that she had brought the past to life just by thinking about it.

  “Is it possible?” she replied, trying to respond normally.

  “The Kikuta master Kotaro is convinced of it. At the end of last year he sent Takeo to Hagi, with Akio, to locate the records and bring them back. It seems Takeo went to Shigeru’s house, saw Ichiro, and then got away from Akio somehow and headed for Terayama. He evaded and killed two agents and an Otori warrior on the way.”

  “An Otori warrior?” Shizuka repeated stupidly.

  “Yes, the Kikuta are stepping up their contacts with the Otori, both in alliance against Arai and to eliminate Takeo.”

  “And the Muto?”

  Kenji grunted. “I have not made a decision yet.”

  Shizuka raised her eyebrows and waited for him to go on.

  “Kotaro is assuming the records were being looked after at the temple, which in hindsight seems obvious to me. That wicked old Matsuda never gave up plotting despite becoming a priest, and he and Shigeru were very close. I think I can even recall the chest Shigeru carried them in. I can’t imagine how I overlooked it. My only excuse is that I had other things on my mind at that time. The Kikuta are furious with me, and I’m left looking like an idiot.” He grinned ruefully. “Shigeru outfoxed me—me, whom they used to call the Fox!”

  “That explains the edict against Takeo,” Shizuka said. “I thought it was for disobedience. It seemed fierce, but it didn’t surprise me. When I heard he was working with Akio, I knew there would be trouble.”

  “My daughter said so too. She sent a message to me while Takeo was still in our house in Yamagata. There was some incident: He outwitted my wife and escaped for a night, nothing major, and he came back by morning, but Yuki wrote then that he and Akio would end up killing each other. Akio very nearly did die, by the way. Muto Yuzuru’s men pulled him out of the river, half-drowned and half-frozen.”

  “Takeo should have finished him off,” Shizuka couldn’t help saying.

  Kenji smiled without mirth. “I’m afraid that was my first reaction too. Akio claimed he tried to prevent Takeo from getting away, but I learned later from Yuki that he was already under instructions to kill him, once the whereabouts of the records had been discovered.” />
  “Why?” Shizuka said. “What good does his death do to them?”

  “It’s not a simple situation. Takeo’s appearance has disturbed a lot of people, especially among the Kikuta. His lack of obedience and his recklessness don’t help.”

  “The Kikuta sound so extreme, whereas you always seemed to give Takeo a lot of leeway,” Shizuka said.

  “It was the only way to handle him. I learned that as soon as I got to Hagi. He’s got good instincts, he’ll do anything for you if you win his loyalty, but you can’t force him. He’ll break rather than give in.”

  “Must be a Kikuta trait,” Shizuka murmured.

  “Maybe.” Kenji sighed deeply and stared into the shadows. He did not speak for a while, then said, “For the Kikuta, everything is black-and-white: you obey or you die . . . the only cure for stupidity is death . . . all the things they’re brought up to believe.”

  If the Kikuta ever find out my part in all this, they will kill me, Shizuka thought. I dare not tell Kenji either. “So now Takeo is not only lost to the Tribe, but holds information with which he can destroy us?”

  “Yes, and that information will buy him an alliance with Arai sooner or later.”

  “He will never be allowed to live,” Shizuka said with renewed sorrow.

  “He’s survived so far. It’s proved harder than the Kikuta thought it would be to get rid of him.” Shizuka thought she detected a note of rueful pride in her uncle’s voice. “And he has the knack of surrounding himself with devoted followers. Half the Otori clan’s young warriors have already crossed the border to join him in Terayama.”

  “If he and Kaede marry, as I am sure they will,” Shizuka said, “Arai will be enraged. It may take more than Shigeru’s records to placate him.”

  “Well, you know Arai better than anyone. There’s also the question of his sons, and of you. I haven’t told the boys that their father ordered your death, but they’re sure to find out sooner or later. It won’t bother Taku—he’s Tribe through and through—but Zenko idolizes his father. He’s not going to be as talented as Taku, and in many ways it would be better for him to be raised by Arai. Is there any possibility of it?”

  “I don’t know,” Shizuka said. “The more land he conquers, the more sons he will want, I would imagine.”

  “We should send someone to him to see how he’s reacting—to Takeo’s marriage, to the Otori—and how he feels toward the boys. What about Kondo? Shall I send him?”

  “Why not?” Shizuka replied with a certain relief.

  “Kondo seems fond of you. Will you marry him?”

  “He wants it,” she said. “I told him I had to ask your advice. But I would like more time to think about it.”

  “No need to rush into anything,” Kenji agreed. “You can give him your answer when he returns.” His eyes gleamed with some emotion that she could not read. “And I can decide what action to take.”

  Shizuka said nothing, but she studied Kenji’s face in the lamplight, trying to make sense of all the pieces of information he had given her, trying to decipher the unspoken as much as the spoken. She felt he was glad to be able to share these concerns with her and guessed he had not told anyone else, not even his own parents. She was aware of the great affection he had had for Shigeru and still held for Takeo, and could imagine the conflict that having to collaborate in Takeo’s death would cause him. She had never known him, or any other Tribe member, to speak so openly of divisions between the masters.

  If the Muto and the Kikuta families were to fall out, could the Tribe survive? It seemed an even greater danger to her than anything Arai or Takeo might do.

  “Where is your daughter now?” she asked.

  “As far as I know, she is in one of the secret Kikuta villages north of Matsue.” Kenji paused and then said quietly, almost painfully, “Yuki was married to Akio at the beginning of the year.”

  “To Akio?” Shizuka could not help exclaiming.

  “Yes, poor girl. The Kikuta insisted and there was no way I could refuse them. There had been talk of a match between them ever since they were both children. I had no rational grounds for withholding my consent anyway, just the irrational sentiments of the father of an only child. My wife did not share these. She was strongly in favor, especially as Yuki was already pregnant.”

  Shizuka was astonished. “With Akio’s child?”

  He shook his head. She had never before seen her uncle unable to speak like this.

  “Not Takeo’s?”

  He nodded. The lamps flickered; the house lay silent.

  Shizuka could think of nothing to say in response. All she could think of was the child Kaede had lost. She seemed to hear the question again that Kaede had asked her in the garden at Shirakawa: Would they have taken the child as they took Takeo? That the Tribe should have a child of Takeo’s seemed like something supernatural to her, the cruel workings of fate that humans cannot hope to escape, turn and twist as they might.

  Kenji took a deep breath and went on: “She became infatuated with Takeo after the incident at Yamagata, and took his side strongly against the Kikuta master and me. As you might imagine, I myself was in considerable anguish over the decision to take Takeo in Inuyama before the assassination attempt on Iida. I betrayed Shigeru. I don’t think I will ever forgive myself for the part I played in his death. For years I considered him my closest friend. However, for the sake of unity within the Tribe, I did as the Kikuta desired and delivered Takeo to them. But between you and me, I would have been happy to have died at Inuyama if that could have erased the shame I felt. I have not spoken of this to anyone except you.

  “Of course, the Kikuta are delighted to have the child. It will be born in the seventh month. They hope it will inherit the skills of both its parents. They blame Takeo’s upbringing for all his defects; they intend to raise this child themselves from birth—”

  He broke off. The silence in the room deepened. “Say something, Niece, even if it’s only that it serves me right!”

  “It is not for me to judge you for anything you have done,” she replied in a low voice. “I am sorry for all you must have suffered. I am amazed at the way fate plays with us like pieces on a board.”

  “Do you ever see ghosts?”

  “I dream of Lord Shirakawa,” she admitted. After a long pause she added, “You know that Kondo and I brought about his death to preserve Kaede and her child.”

  She heard the hiss of his breath, but he did not speak, and after a few moments she continued. “Her father was out of his mind, on the point of violating and then killing her. I wanted to save her life and the child’s. But she lost it anyway and nearly died. I don’t know if she remembers what we did, and I would not hesitate to do the same thing again; but for some reason, perhaps because I have never spoken of it to anyone, not even Kondo, it haunts me.”

  “If it was to save her life, I’m sure your action was justified,” he replied.

  “It was one of those moments when there was no time to think. Kondo and I acted instinctively. I had never killed a man of such high rank before. It seems like a crime to me.”

  “Well, my betrayal of Shigeru also seems like a crime. He visits me in dreams. I see him as he looked when we brought him up out of the river. I drew the hood from his face and asked him to forgive me, but he only had strength to speak to Takeo. Night after night he comes to me.” There was another long silence.

  “What are you thinking of?” she whispered. “You would not split the Tribe?”

  “I must do what seems best for the Muto family,” he replied. “And the Kikuta have my daughter and will soon have my grandchild. Obviously these are my first obligations. But I swore to Takeo when I first met him that while I was alive he would be safe. I will not seek his death. We’ll wait and see which way he jumps. The Kikuta want the Otori to provoke him and lure him into battle. They’ve been concentrating all their attention on Hagi and Terayama.” He hissed through his teeth. “I suppose poor old Ichiro will be their first tar
get. But what do you think Takeo and Kaede will do once they’re married?”

  “Kaede is determined to inherit Maruyama,” Shizuka replied. “I imagine they will move south as soon as possible.”

  “Maruyama has only a few Tribe families,” Kenji said. “Takeo will be safer there than anywhere.” He was silent, wrapped in his thoughts. Then he smiled slightly. “Of course, we can only blame ourselves for the marriage. We brought them together; we encouraged them, even. Whatever can have possessed us?”

  Shizuka recalled suddenly the training hall in Tsuwano, heard the clash of the wooden poles, the rain pouring down outside, saw their faces young and vivid, on the threshold of passion. “Perhaps we felt sorry for them. They were both pawns being used in a conspiracy wider than either of them suspected, both likely to die before they had begun to live.”

  “Or perhaps you are right and we were the pawns, moved by the hand of fate,” her uncle replied. “Kondo can leave tomorrow. Stay here for the summer. It will be good to talk about these things with you. I have deep decisions to make that will affect many generations to come.”

  · 5·

  he first weeks in Maruyama were spent as Kaede had predicted, in restoring the land. Our welcome was warm and seemingly wholehearted, but Maruyama was an extensive domain with many hereditary retainers and a large body of elders who were as opinionated and conservative as most old men. My reputation as Shigeru’s avenger stood me in good stead, but the usual rumors surfaced about how I had achieved it: my doubtful origins, the hint of sorcery. My own Otori warriors were completely loyal and I trusted Sugita, his family, and the men who had fought alongside him, but I had my suspicions of many of the others, and they were equally suspicious of me.

  Sugita was delighted by our marriage and confided in me what he had once said to Kaede that he believed I might unite the Three Countries and bring peace. But the elders generally were surprised by it. No one dared say anything to my face, but from hints and whispered conversations I soon gathered that a marriage to Fujiwara had been expected. It did not bother me particularly—I had no idea then of the extent of the nobleman’s power and influence—but like everything else that summer it added to my sense of urgency. I had to move against Hagi; I had to take over the leadership of the Otori clan. Once I had gained what was legally mine and had my base in Hagi, no one would dare question or challenge me.