by Lian Hearn
He shifted uncomfortably. “You know I have made a claim to the estate in the judicial court here? The Miboshi set a great store by legality. Moreover, everyone knows Matsutani is the gateway to Miyako. It’s no secret that the Miboshi intend to move against the capital. If Kiyoyori will not submit to the verdict of law, the Miboshi will support me in taking up arms against him and winning the estate in battle. They will have a staunch ally in a key position and I will have what was mine.”
“Your claim will be all the stronger if I am your wife,” Tama said. “After all, it is my family who have owned Matsutani for generations.” He was making her uneasy. She wished he had not said he hated her. She was afraid he would no longer want her, now Kiyoyori’s flesh had been imprinted on hers and contained within her.
“I am committed elsewhere,” he said. “I can’t easily escape from that commitment.”
“But, as I said, she is only a child.”
“When we were first betrothed she was seven years old. I have watched her grow up and waited for her. Next year she will turn fifteen.”
Fifteen, Tama thought, the age I was when I was betrothed to him. Jealousy and misery welled up in her heart. No wonder he was reluctant to take her back. He would have both Matsutani and his young bride, and increased standing and respect among the Miboshi.
“Let’s be patient,” Masachika said. “Nothing will be achieved by acting in haste. Let’s see how the court case is resolved. In the meantime you can stay here, I suppose?”
“Can you help me? I should have a waiting-woman, I will need new clothes, and of course I should make a donation to the convent.”
“It would be a little difficult,” Masachika said. “I would have to ask my parents, and I think it is better if they don’t know you are in Minatogura.”
“But how long will I have to wait?”
“The court case will be heard before the end of the month.”
* * *
“He will not take me back,” Tama said later to the Abbess. “I was a fool to expect it. Maybe I was a fool to come here, but what else could I do? I could not stay where I was, a prisoner in my own home, waiting for my husband to get rid of me. And I cannot go back to Matsutani unless…” She fell silent.
“Unless what?” the older woman prompted.
“Unless the Miboshi’s famous justice system confirms me as the rightful owner. Why should I not also submit a claim?”
“It is possible,” the Abbess said after a moment’s reflection. “There are precedents.”
“Matsutani is a prosperous estate. I will be able to endow this convent for years to come. You must have important connections; you can advise me on how to set about it.”
The Abbess smiled slightly. “Presumably you have documents recording your family’s history?”
“Of course,” Tama said, “unless they were destroyed in the earthquake, they are all there. Kiyoyori has copies, but the originals are hidden in a place known only to me. I could send someone to get them … I would need a skillful thief.”
She looked at the Abbess. The other woman said, “I’m afraid I have none in my acquaintance. Let us pray and meditate on how to proceed in these matters. I will give you my decision tomorrow.”
* * *
The following day the Abbess decided that the convent would support Tama’s claim and a request was sent to the tribunal for permission to proceed. Then a long time passed in which she heard nothing. She was used to the constant activity of running a large estate; with nothing to occupy her, her mind buzzed with regrets for the past and plans for the future. Despite her words about Masachika to the Abbess and against her own better judgment, she could not help hoping and dreaming. She believed from the way he had held her that Masachika still loved her as she knew she still loved him. But the pretty features of a fifteen-year-old she had never met haunted her. If only she could regain Matsutani surely Masachika would return to her. If she had the support of the Miboshi maybe Tsumaru would be rescued. She was on the point of deciding she would go back to Matsutani to collect the documents herself when she was told the Abbess wanted to see her. She went at once to the tranquil room near the front entrance of the convent.
The Abbess led her quietly to the side veranda where they could see the gate, and indicated a waiting man.
“Is that someone you know? He says he comes from Matsutani with a message from Lord Kiyoyori.”
Her heart plummeted. It could only be news of Tsumaru. But she did not recognize the man. Kiyoyori would surely have sent one of his senior retainers, Sadaike or Tsuneto. But Kiyoyori did not know where she was—no one knew except Masachika. Could he have sent this man to her, with some message, some promise? But why pretend to be from Matsutani?
“I’ve never seen him,” she whispered, as though he could hear her. “I don’t believe Kiyoyori sent him.”
“Then I will have him turned away,” the Abbess declared.
“No, he can only have been sent by Masachika. I must hear what he has to say.”
“My dear.” The Abbess gave her a pitying look. “What if his purpose is more brutal than a mere message?”
“What do you mean? That Masachika would have me murdered?” Tama did not know whether to laugh or cry.
“Well, you are threatening to come between him and his estate.”
After a few moments in which she regained her composure, Tama said, “If you turn him away we won’t know for sure who sent him or if he might not strike again. Let him in and I’ll give him a welcome he won’t expect.”
“Be careful. We must avoid shedding blood. I will bring him to you myself.”
She waited for him in the same hut where she had met Masachika. She had her knife in her hand and had placed a halberd just inside the entrance. The man must have been lulled by the calm of the courtyards and gardens through which he had been escorted, as much as by the presence of the Abbess, for he stepped from the bright daylight into the darkness without hesitation. She had her knife at his throat before he had even seen her, and when he lunged backward, twisting away from her, he found himself up against the sharp blade of the halberd in the hands of the Abbess.
“Don’t move!” said the Abbess. “We don’t want to have to kill you.”
The man fell to his knees. “Forgive me,” he cried. “I should never have come here.”
“Reveal the weapons you are carrying,” Tama said. “Then I’ll decide what to do with you.”
When he did not answer immediately, she put the knife to his throat again, the sharp blade piercing the skin.
He cried out.
“It’s nothing,” she said, holding the knife steady. “Not even a flesh wound. But don’t misunderstand me. I will let your life blood out in an instant.”
He said, “I left my sword at the gate. I am unarmed.”
“You are lying. I think you came to kill me. Were you going to strangle me with your bare hands?”
“I carry one hidden blade. In the breast of my jacket I have a leather garotte, in the sleeve wax pellets that contain poison.”
“Is that all?” Tama said, swiftly locating each one. “What about these?” She had located a tiny blowpipe and a set of darts in a miniature quiver. There was something almost intimate about searching him. Suddenly she was aware of him as a man.
“Take care,” he said, “they are fatally poisonous.”
She heard real concern in his voice and realized with a flash of amusement that he found her attractive, that the situation pleased him.
“You thought to murder me,” she said. “You say you come from Matsutani with a message from Lord Kiyoyori?”
“It was not he who sent me,” the man admitted.
“I know that. For a start he does not know I am here, and he would never send an assassin to murder his wife in secret; he would come here and kill me himself. He would do me that honor. He and I may have parted, we may hate each other, but I hope we do not despise each other.” Her voice deepened with emotion. “It
can only have been the one other person who knows where I am, Masachika.”
“I am sorry,” he said. “It was indeed Lord Masachika. I am employed by his family.”
“Really?” Tama’s tone was scathing. “Do they often send you on such missions? Killing defenseless women in convents? Is that the honorable way among the warriors of the east? Let me look at you.”
The Abbess raised the blinds on the western side and the evening light filled the room. Then she took up the halberd again.
Tama said, “I am going to lower the knife now.”
He instinctively put up his hand to wipe away the blood.
“Don’t move!” she said. She moved around to face him and studied him for a moment. “You seem to be a man of many talents,” she observed.
He fell to his knees and bowed to the ground. “Lady, my name is Hisoku. All my talents are yours to command. I beg you to allow me to serve you.”
“Any man will make such vows at the wrong end of a halberd,” she replied. “You were sent to kill me. Why should I believe your sudden change of heart?”
“I can hardly believe it myself,” he said, raising his head. “I cannot explain it. I feel you have saved me from a terrible sin. If I had killed you I would never be able to atone for it. But now in your service perhaps I will find forgiveness.”
Tama turned to the older woman. “My lady Abbess, do you think he is sincere?”
The Abbess gave the halberd to Tama to hold and knelt before Hisoku. She gazed into Hisoku’s eyes and then her own eyes closed and an intense silence fell on the room. From the garden a bush warbler called, the first Tama had heard that spring.
“He is sincere,” the Abbess said with a note of wonder in her voice. “It is almost like a miracle.”
“Of course I am sincere,” Hisoku cried. “Do you not think I am capable of overcoming you both if I wanted to? But I am held back by my reluctance to commit murder in this holy place, as well as by my admiration for you.”
“It is a miracle,” Tama said. “I need someone I can send to Matsutani to collect some essential documents. If you can do this for me, and if I regain my estate as a result, I will let you serve me.”
“Then tell me what you need,” Hisoku said, “and I will leave tomorrow as soon as it is light.”
14
KIYOYORI
Kiyoyori had been confined to Matsutani all winter by heavy snowfalls, cut off from any news of the Emperor’s health or the fate of his son, Tsumaru. He heard neither from the steward Taro nor from Ryusonji. He tried to curb his impatience and anxiety by making meticulous preparations for the spring, which he was sure would bring some revolt or uprising, if not outright war. He did not speak to Tama, though he knew he could not put off a decision about her future for much longer. He could not forgive her for her actions at the beginning of the winter. As soon as the snows melted he sent men deep into the Darkwood, searching for any trace of Sesshin and Shikanoko, and, he hoped secretly, of Lady Tora.
One day Tsuneto returned with the news that the fugitives had been captured at Kumayama and handed over to the monk Gessho.
“They have been in Ryusonji all winter, then,” Kiyoyori said. “Why have I heard nothing?”
“If they are not dead, they will be prisoners,” Tsuneto replied.
“Did you speak to Sademasa at Kumayama?”
“I did.”
“You know Shikanoko claimed to be his nephew, the son of Shigetomo, the former lord of Kumayama? Did he have anything to say about that?”
“Sademasa referred to him as an imposter,” Tsuneto said. “I gather he was more than happy to have him removed so conveniently. He is not expecting him to return to make any further claims.”
“So, the Prince Abbot has obtained what he sought from me—Master Sesshin. Why has he not returned my son?”
“Presumably he hopes to influence you in other matters,” Tsuneto said.
Or he no longer has him, Kiyoyori thought. Taro succeeded in rescuing him. But where are they? He heard over and over in his mind the child’s farewell cries: Father! Don’t go! He remembered with startling clarity the evening after Akuzenji’s attack when the bandits were executed and his wife had brought the children to eat with him. He had played with them and admired them, and then he had left and gone to Lady Tora and become enmeshed with her. Was that what had brought the punishment of Heaven down on him? Yet he would face ten times that punishment to be with her again. His grief welled up and threatened to overcome him. He forced himself to listen to Tsuneto’s words.
“Sademasa was very closemouthed about his own activities, but I noticed he has also spent the winter preparing for war. And he had several warriors with him whom I did not recognize. I wondered if they might have joined him from the east.”
“He is planning to betray us?”
“He is an opportunist. He hinted he expects great rewards from the Prince Abbot for handing over Sesshin and Shikanoko. If you and the Crown Prince prevail he will cleave to you, but if the Prince’s defeat seems imminent he will join the Miboshi.”
“I need him to be staunch now more than ever. I must go to the capital myself as soon as possible and I don’t like to leave Matsutani unguarded in these dangerous times.”
These and other worries meant that Kiyoyori hardly slept that night, and so he was awake when the earthquake struck, and was able to escape with Hina. Much of the main building collapsed and the stables were destroyed in the fire that followed. The stonework of the lake was broken in several places and the lake drained away, leaving a muddy floor in which, when he got around to looking at it, Tama’s footprints were clearly visible. He lost twenty horses, including his favorite black stallion, and ten people died. He entrusted Hina to Haru, hoping she would be comforted by playing with the children, but later that day when he went to assess the damage to the west gate he found her there, poking through the rubble. The gateposts still stood erect, but the roof and the transom had fallen to the ground.
“What are you doing there?”
Lost in some world of her own, she was startled by his voice. He was shocked by her pale face and noticed for the first time how thin she had become. The earthquake was the most recent in a series of shocks for her—Tsumaru’s disappearance, the blinding of Sesshin, her stepmother’s imprisonment. He felt guilty that he had not been more considerate toward her all winter. He had left her to Haru’s care. Now he spoke more gently.
“Stay away from the gate; the beams might fall on you.”
“I am looking for the eyes, Father. I had a dream I found them and put them in a treasure box. The gateposts were shaking with laughter. It was horrible. When I woke up the earth was shaking.”
He noticed she had been crying. He saw a slight gleam in the dust and bent to lift the carved transom that had been half-buried in rubble. The eyes stared back at him. They had lost none of their luster.
“Ah,” Hina said. Two tears fell on the eyes, moistening them. She held out a carved wooden box in which she had placed a small piece of white cloth. “Put them in here and I will keep them safe.”
He took the cloth and picked up the eyes with it, wrapped them, and placed them in the box. She held the box awkwardly because she also had a sheaf of manuscripts, loosely bound with thread, clamped under one arm.
Kiyoyori gestured at the text. “Give me that, you are going to drop it.”
She turned sideways so he could take it. It was a manuscript made up of folded pages, some yellow with black writing, some indigo with gold. He fanned through the pages, noting how some seemed to be glued together so he could not open them, while others were so blurred they were impossible to read. Occasionally a drawing of an animal or a mythical creature appeared, and he had the uneasy feeling their eyes were looking back at him. It resembled an esoteric text, the sort written by monks or healers.
“It’s about medicine. Is it one of Master Sesshin’s?”
“He gave it to me last year, after he saw me making potions for
that dog that was so sick.”
This surprised Kiyoyori. He had not known Sesshin had ever spoken to Hina, let alone given her a text like this. “Can you read it?”
“It’s too difficult for me. But I like looking at the pictures. It’s called the Kudzu Vine Treasure Store. That’s because it’s difficult and complicated like kudzu. Master Sesshin told me that. Sometimes I feel it doesn’t want me to read it.”
“I will help you if you are really interested.” He made the promise knowing it was possible he would never keep it, that they would never have that sort of time together in the future, and again he deeply regretted squandering the time they might have had during the winter.
She nodded with a smile, but then her face turned grave. “Where is my stepmother?”
“I don’t know. She walked away, probably early this morning.”
He went with Hina to the lake and showed her the footprints. Hina stared at them. “Will she come back?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Will Tsumaru?”
“I am going to tell you a secret about Tsumaru,” Kiyoyori said slowly. “You know he was kidnapped to make me hand over Master Sesshin…”
His daughter fixed him with a gaze like steel. “And Lady Tora?”
“I don’t want to talk about Lady Tora with you; it is not fitting. When you are older you will understand.”
Hina flushed at the rebuke. Kiyoyori went on sternly, trying to mask his guilt and regret. “Someone, one of our people, promised to rescue him. I don’t know if he succeeded or not.”
“Who?” she said flatly.
“A servant in the house below Rokujo. Iida no Taro is his name.”
“If he did succeed, why has Tsumaru not come home?”
“I don’t know,” Kiyoyori replied. “But that is why I have to go to the capital, to find out.”
“You won’t leave me here?”
“No, you can come with me.”
Hina said, “Was the earthquake a punishment?”
He did not want to answer her. It was not right for children to judge their parents. But he feared that the earthquake was a punishment for the many terrible things that had happened at Matsutani, and it was certainly an ominous start to the year.