by Lian Hearn
“As I’ve said many times, Fujiwara is your best ally in this.”
“Maybe not the best: the only. But I don’t really trust him. What does he want from me?”
“What do you want from him?” Shizuka replied.
“That’s simple: on the one hand, learning; on the other, money and food to raise an army and feed it. But what do I offer him in return?”
Shizuka wondered if she should mention Fujiwara’s desire for marriage, but decided against it, fearing it would disturb Kaede to the point of fever again. Let the nobleman speak for himself. She was sure he would.
“He addresses me as Lady Shirakawa. I am ashamed to face him, after deceiving him.”
“He will have learned of your father’s wishes regarding your name,” Shizuka said. “Everyone knows that your father named you as his heir before his death. We have made sure of that.”
Kaede glanced at her to see if she was mocking her, but Shizuka’s face was serious. “Of course, I had to do as my father requested,” Kaede agreed.
“There is nothing else Lord Fujiwara needs to know, then. Filial obedience comes before everything.”
“So K’ung Fu-Tzu tells me,” Kaede said. “Lord Fujiwara needs to know nothing else but I suspect he wants to know a great deal more. If he is still interested in me, that is.”
“He will be,” Shizuka assured her, thinking that Kaede was more beautiful than ever. Her illness and grief had removed the last traces of childishness from her and had given her expression depth and mystery.
They celebrated the new year with Fujiwara’s gifts, and ate buckwheat noodles, and black beans that Ayame had put away at the end of the summer. At midnight they went to the temple and listened to the priests’ chanting and the bells’ tolling for the extinction of human passions. Kaede knew she should pray to be freed from them all and to be purified, but found herself asking for what she most desired—for Takeo to be alive—and then for money and power.
The following day the women of the household took candles, incense, and lanterns, wrinkled mandarins, sweet chestnuts, and dried persimmons, and went to the caves where the Shirakawa river emerged from a series of underground caverns. Here they performed their own ceremonies before the rock that the water had turned into the shape of the White Goddess. No men were ever supposed to come into this place; if they did, the mountain might fall and the Shirakawa might be extinguished. An aged couple lived behind the shrine at the entrance to the cave; only the old woman went inside to take offerings to the goddess. Kaede knelt on the damp rock, listening to the ancient voice mumble words she hardly knew the meaning of. She thought of her mother and Lady Maruyama and asked for their help and their intercession. She realized how much this holy place meant to her, and she felt that the goddess was watching over her.
The next day she went to Lord Fujiwara’s. Hana was bitterly disappointed at being left behind, and wept when she had to say good-bye not only to Kaede but also to Shizuka.
“It’s only for a few days,” Kaede said.
“Why can’t I come with you?”
“Lord Fujiwara did not invite you. Besides, you would hate it there. You would have to behave properly, speak in formal language, and sit still most of the day.”
“Will you hate it?”
“I expect I will,” Kaede sighed.
“At least you will eat delicious food,” Hana said, adding longingly, “Quail!”
“If we are eating his food, there will be more for you here,” Kaede replied. It was in fact one of the reasons she was happy to be away for a while, for no matter how many times she looked at the food stores and calculated the days of winter, it remained obvious that they would run out of food before spring.
“And someone has to entertain young Mitsuru,” Shizuka added. “You must make sure he is not too homesick.”
“Ai can do that,” Hana retorted. “He likes Ai.”
Kaede had noticed the same thing. Her sister had not admitted any affection in return, but she was shy about such matters—and anyway, Kaede thought, what difference did her feelings make? Ai would have to be betrothed soon. The new year had seen her turn fourteen. It might be that Sonoda Mitsuru, if his uncle were to adopt him, would be a good match, but she would not relinquish her sister cheaply.
In a year they will be lining up for marriages with the Shirakawa, she told herself.
Ai had colored a little at Hana’s remark. “Take care of yourself, Older Sister,” she said, embracing Kaede. “Don’t worry about us. I’ll look after everything here.”
“We are not far away,” Kaede replied. “You must send for me if you think I am needed.” She could not help adding, “And if any messages come for me—if Kondo returns—let me know at once.”
They arrived at Lord Fujiwara’s in the early afternoon. The day had begun mild and overcast, but even as they traveled the wind swung to the northeast and the temperature dropped.
Mamoru met them, conveyed the nobleman’s greetings, and led them, not to the guest rooms where they had stayed before, but to another, smaller pavilion, less ornately decorated but to Kaede’s eyes even more beautiful with its elegant simplicity and muted colors. She was grateful for this thoughtfulness, for she had been dreading seeing her father’s angry ghost in the room where her secret had been revealed to him.
“Lord Fujiwara thought Lady Shirakawa would prefer to rest this evening,” Mamoru said quietly. “He will receive you tomorrow, if that is agreeable to you.”
“Thank you,” Kaede said. “Please tell Lord Fujiwara I am completely at his service. I will do whatever he desires.”
She was already aware of tension. Mamoru had used her name without hesitation—had glanced at her swiftly when she arrived, as if trying to discern any change in her, but since then had not looked at her at all. However, she knew already how much he saw of her without appearing to. She straightened her back and gazed at him with a hint of disdain in her expression. Let him study her all he liked as a subject for the roles he played onstage. He would never be other than a counterfeit of what she was. She did not care what he thought of her. But she did care what Fujiwara thought. He must despise me, she told herself, but if he shows it by so much as a flicker of one eyebrow, I’ll leave and never see him again, no matter what he might do for me.
She was relieved that the meeting was to be postponed. Ishida paid them a call and checked her pulse and eyes. He told her he would prepare a new sort of tea that would purify the blood and strengthen the stomach, and asked her to send Shizuka to his rooms the following day to collect it.
A hot bath had been prepared, making Kaede warm not only from the water but also with envy at the amount of wood available to heat it. Afterward food was brought to their room by maids who hardly spoke at all.
“It is the traditional ladies’ winter meal,” Shizuka exclaimed when she saw the delicacies of the season, raw sea bream and squid, broiled eel with green perilla and horseradish, pickled cucumbers and salted lotus root, rare black mushrooms and burdock, laid out on the lacquer trays. “This is what they would eat in the capital. I wonder how many other women in the Three Countries are eating something this exquisite tonight!”
“Everything is exquisite here,” Kaede replied. How easy it is, she thought, to have luxury and taste when you have money!
They had finished eating and were thinking about retiring, when there was a tap outside the door.
“The maids have come to prepare the beds,” Shizuka said and went to the door. But when she slid it open, it was Mamoru who stood outside. There was snow on his hair.
“Forgive me,” he said, “but the first snow of the year has begun to fall. Lord Fujiwara wishes to visit Lady Shirakawa. The view from this pavilion is particularly fine.”
“This is Lord Fujiwara’s house,” Kaede said. “I am his guest. Whatever is his pleasure is mine also.”
Mamoru left and she heard him speak to the maids. A few moments later two of them came to the room with warm red quilted robes
, which they dressed her in. Accompanied by Shizuka, she went out onto the veranda. Animal skins had been placed over cushions for them to sit on. Lanterns had been hung from the trees, lighting the falling flakes. The ground was already white. A garden of rocks lay under two pine trees that grew in low, beautifully trained patterns, framing the view. Behind them the dull mass of the mountain was just visible through the swirling snow. Kaede was silent, transfixed by the beauty of the scene, its silent purity.
Moving so quietly that they hardly heard him, Lord Fujiwara approached them. They both knelt before him.
“Lady Shirakawa,” he said. “I am so grateful to you, first for condescending to visit my humble place, and second for indulging my whim to share the first snow viewing with you.
“Please sit up,” he added. “You must wrap yourself up well; you must not catch cold.”
Servants filed behind him bringing braziers, flasks of wine, cups, and furs. Mamoru took one of the furs and placed it over her shoulders, then wrapped another around Fujiwara as he sat beside her. Kaede stroked the pelt with a mixture of delight and revulsion.
“They come from the mainland,” Fujiwara told her after they had exchanged formal greetings. “Ishida brings them back when he goes on his expeditions there.”
“What animal is it?”
“Some kind of bear, I believe.”
She could not imagine a bear so large. She tried to picture it in its native land, so distant and foreign to her. It would be powerful, slow-moving, ferocious, yet men had killed and skinned it. She wondered if its spirit still dwelled somehow in the skin and if it would resent her wearing its warmth. She shivered. “Dr. Ishida is brave as well as clever, to go on such dangerous journeys.”
“He has an unquenchable thirst for knowledge, it seems. Of course, it has all been rewarded by Lady Shirakawa’s recovery.”
“I owe him my life,” she said in a low voice.
“Then he is even more precious to me than on his own account.”
She detected his usual irony, but no contempt. Indeed, he could hardly be more flattering.
“How lovely the first snow is,” she said. “Yet, by the end of winter we long for it to melt.”
“Snow pleases me,” he said. “I like its whiteness and the way it wraps the world. Beneath it everything becomes clean.”
Mamoru poured wine and passed it to them. Then he vanished into the shadows. The servants withdrew. They were not really alone, but there was an illusion of solitude, as though nothing existed but the two of them, the glowing braziers, the heavy animal furs, and the snow.
After they had watched it in silence for a while, Fujiwara called to the servants to bring more lamps.
“I want to see your face,” he said, leaning forward and studying her in the same hungry way he had gazed on his treasures. Kaede raised her eyes and looked past him at the snow, now falling more thickly, swirling in the light from the lanterns, blocking out the mountains, blurring the outside world.
“Possibly more beautiful than ever,” he said quietly. She thought she detected a note of relief in his voice. She knew that if her illness had marred her in any way, he would have withdrawn politely and would never have seen her again. They could all have starved to death at Shirakawa with no gesture of compassion or help from him. How cold he is, she thought, and felt her own body chill in response; yet, she made no sign of it, just continued to gaze past him, letting the snow fill her eyes and dazzle her. She would be cold, like ice, like celadon. And if he wanted to possess her, he would pay the highest price.
He drank, filled his cup, and drank again, his eyes never leaving her face. Neither of them spoke. Finally he said abruptly, “Of course you will have to marry.”
“I have no intention of marrying,” Kaede replied, and then feared she had spoken too bluntly.
“I imagined you would say that, since you always hold a different opinion to the world. But in all practical terms you must be married. There is no alternative.”
“My reputation is very unfavorable,” Kaede said. “Too many men connected with me have perished. I do not want to be the cause of any more deaths.”
She felt his interest deepen, noticed the curve of his mouth increase slightly. Yet, it was not with desire for her; she knew that. It was the same emotion she had caught a whiff of before: a burning curiosity, carefully controlled, to know all her secrets.
He called to Mamoru, telling him to send the servants away and retire himself.
“Where is your woman?” he said to Kaede. “Tell her to wait for you inside. I want to speak to you privately.”
Kaede spoke to Shizuka. After a pause Fujiwara went on, “Are you warm enough? You must not be ill again. Ishida tells me you are prone to sudden fevers.”
Of course, Ishida would tell him everything about me, Kaede thought as she replied, “Thank you, I am warm enough for the moment. But Lord Fujiwara will forgive me if I do not stay up long. I tire very easily.”
“We will talk for a little while,” he said. “We have many weeks before us, I hope—all winter, in fact. But there is something about this night, the snow, your presence here . . . it’s a memory that will stay with us all our lives.”
He wants to marry me, Kaede thought with a sense of shock, followed by deep unease. If he offered marriage, how could she refuse? To use his own phrase in all practical terms, it made perfect sense. It was a far greater honor than she deserved; it would solve all her problems of money and food; it was a highly desirable alliance. Yet, she knew his preference was for men; he neither loved nor desired her. She prayed he would not speak, for she did not see how she could refuse him. She was afraid of the strength of his will, which always took what it wanted and always had its own way. She doubted her own strength to deny him. Not only would it be an unthinkable insult to someone of his rank, but he fascinated her as much as he alarmed her and this gave him a power over her that she barely understood.
“I have never seen a bear,” she said, hoping to change the subject, drawing the heavy skin closer around her.
“We have small bears here in the mountains; one came to the garden once after a particularly long winter. I had it captured and caged for a while, but it pined and died. It was nothing like this size. Ishida will tell us of his travels one day. Would you like that?”
“Very much. He is the only person I know who has ever been to the mainland.”
“It’s a dangerous voyage. Quite apart from the storms, there are often encounters with pirates.”
At that moment, Kaede felt she would rather meet a dozen bears or twenty pirates than remain with this unnerving man. She could think of nothing else to say. Indeed, she felt powerless to move at all.
“Mamoru and Ishida have both told me what people say about you, that desire for you brings death.”
Kaede said nothing. I will not be ashamed, she thought. I have done nothing wrong. She lifted her eyes and looked at him directly, her face calm, her gaze steady.
“Yet, from what Ishida tells me, one man who desired you escaped death.”
She felt her heart twist and jump, like a fish when it finds its living flesh pierced by the cook’s knife. His eyes flickered. A small muscle twitched in his cheek. He looked away from her at the snow. He is asking what should not be asked, she thought. I will tell him, but he will pay a price for it. As she saw his weakness, she became aware of her own power. Her courage began to return.
“Who was it?” he whispered.
The night was silent, apart from the soft drift of snow, the wind in the pines, the murmur of water.
“Lord Otori Takeo,” she said.
“Yes, it could only be him,” he replied, making her wonder what she had given away before and what he knew about Takeo now. He leaned forward, his face moving into the lamplight. “Tell me about it.”
“I could tell you many things,” she said slowly. “About Lord Shigeru’s betrayal and death and Lord Takeo’s revenge and what happened the night Iida died and Inuyama fell.
But every story comes at a price. What will you give me in return?”
He smiled and in a tone of complicity said, “What does Lady Shirakawa desire?”
“I need money to hire men and equip them, and food for my household.”
He came close to laughing. “Most women your age would ask for a new fan or a robe. But you are always able to surprise me.”
“Do you accept my price?” She felt she had nothing to lose now from boldness.
“Yes, I do. For Iida, money; for Shigeru, bushels of rice. And for the living one—I assume he still lives—what shall I pay you for Takeo’s story?”
His voice changed as he spoke the name, as though he were tasting it in his mouth, and she wondered again what he had heard about Takeo.
“Teach me,” she said. “There are so many things I need to know. Teach me as if I were a boy.”
He inclined his head in agreement. “It will be a pleasure to continue your father’s instruction.”
“But everything must be kept secret between us. Like the treasures of your collection, nothing must be exposed. I will divulge these things only for your gaze. No one else must ever be told them.”
“That makes them all the more precious, all the more desirable.”
“No one else has ever heard them,” Kaede whispered. “And once I have told you, I will never speak of them again.”
The wind had risen a little, and a flurry of snow blew onto the veranda, the flakes hissing as they hit the lamps and the braziers. Kaede could feel cold creeping over her, meeting her coldness of heart and spirit. She longed to leave him; yet, knew she could not move until he released her.
“You are cold,” he said, and clapped his hands. The servants appeared out of the shadows and helped Kaede to her feet, lifting the heavy fur from her.
“I look forward to your stories,” he said, wishing her good night with unusual warmth. But Kaede found herself wondering if she had not made a pact with a demon from hell. She prayed he would not ask her to marry him. She would never allow him to cage her in this luxurious beautiful house, concealed like a treasure, to be gazed on only by him.