Grass for His Pillow

by Lian Hearn

  “I don’t know. It all depends on Takeo.” Kaede could not prevent herself from continuing. “He said we must marry. We must; we will.”

  “You must not do anything before you have seen Arai,” Shizuka said urgently. “If you marry without his approval, you will insult him. He will be deeply offended. You cannot afford to incite his enmity. He is your strongest ally. And what about Lord Fujiwara? You are as good as betrothed to him. Will you offend him too?”

  “I cannot marry Fujiwara,” Kaede cried. “He of all people knows that I can marry no one but Takeo. To all other men I bring death. But I am Takeo’s life and he is mine.”

  “This is not the way the world works,” Shizuka said. “Remember what Lady Maruyama told you, how easily these warlords and warriors can crush a woman if they think that you question their power over you. Fujiwara expects to marry you: He must have already consulted Arai. It is a match Arai can only be in favor of. Apart from that, Takeo has the entire Tribe against him; he cannot survive. Don’t look at me like that: It distresses me to hurt you. It’s because I care so much for you that I must say this to you. I could swear to you never to harm him, but it would make no difference; there are hundreds out there who will try. Sooner or later one of them will succeed. No one can escape the Tribe forever. You have to accept that this will be his fate. What will you do after his death, when you have insulted everyone who takes your part? You will have no hope of Maruyama and will lose Shirakawa. Your sisters will be ruined with you. Arai is your overlord. You must go to Inuyama and accept his decision on your marriage. Otherwise you will enrage him. Believe me: I know how his mind works.”

  “Can Arai prevent the coming of spring?” Kaede replied. “Can he order the snow not to thaw?”

  “All men like to believe they can. Women get their own way by indulging this belief, not by opposing it.”

  “Lord Arai will learn differently,” Kaede said in a low voice. “Make yourself ready. You and Kondo must be gone in an hour.”

  She turned away. Her heart was beating wildly, excitement building up in her belly, her chest, her throat. She could think of nothing other than being joined with him. The sight of him, his closeness, awoke the fever in her again.

  “You are mad,” Shizuka said. “You have gone beyond reason. You are unleashing disaster on yourself and your family.”

  As if in confirmation of Shizuka’s fears, there was a sudden noise; the house groaned, the screens rattled, the wind chimes sounded as the ground shook beneath their feet.

  · 10 ·

  As soon as the snow began to melt and the thaw came, word spread like running water that I was at Terayama and was going to challenge the Otori lords for my inheritance. And like running water, first in a trickle, then in a flood, warriors began to make their way to the mountain temple. Some were masterless, but most were Otori who recognized the legitimacy of my claim as Shigeru’s heir. My story was already a legend, and I seemed to have become a hero, not only to the young men of the warrior class, but also to the farmers and villagers of the Otori domain, who had reached a state of desperation after the bitter winter, the increased taxation, and the ever-harsher laws imposed by Shoichi and Masahiro, Shigeru’s uncles.

  The air was full of the sounds of spring. The willows put on their gold-green fronds. Swallows darted over the flooded fields and crafted their nests under the eaves of the temple buildings. Every night the noise of frogs grew louder, the loud call of the rain frog, the clacking rhythm of the tree frog, and the sweet tinkling of the little bell frog. Flowers bloomed in a riot along the dikes: bitter cress, buttercups, and bright pink vetch. Herons, ibis, and cranes returned to the rivers and the pools.

  The abbot, Matsuda Shingen, made the considerable wealth of the temple freely available to me, and with his help I spent the early weeks of spring organizing the men who came to me, equipping and arming them. Smiths and armorers appeared from Yamagata and elsewhere and set up their workshops at the foot of the holy mountain. Every day horse dealers came, hoping to make a good sale, and they usually did, for I bought all the horses I could. No matter how many men I had and how well they were armed, my main weapons would always be speed and surprise. I did not have the time or the resources to muster a huge army of foot soldiers like Arai. I had to rely on a small but swifter band of horsemen.

  Among the first to arrive were the Miyoshi brothers, Kahei and Gemba, with whom I had trained in Hagi. Those days when we had fought with wooden swords now seemed impossibly distant. Their appearance meant a great deal to me, far more than they suspected when they fell to their knees and begged to be allowed to join me. It meant that the best of the Otori had not forgotten Shigeru. They brought thirty men with them and, just as welcome, news from Hagi.

  “Shoichi and Masahiro are aware of your return,” Kahei told me. He was several years older than me and had some experience of war, having been at Yaegahara at the age of fourteen. “But they don’t take it very seriously. They feel it will only take one quick skirmish to rout you.” He grinned at me. “I don’t mean to insult you, but they’ve formed the impression that you’re something of a weakling.”

  “That’s the only way they’ve seen me,” I replied. I remembered Iida’s retainer, Abe, who had thought the same thing and had been taught differently by Jato. “They are correct in some ways. It is true that I am young and know only the theory of war, not its practice. But I have right on my side and am fulfilling Shigeru’s will.”

  “People say you are touched by heaven,” Gemba said. “They say you have been given powers that are not of this world.”

  “We know all about that!” said Kahei. “Remember the fight with Yoshitomi? But he considered the powers to be from hell, not heaven.”

  I had fought a bout against Masahiro’s son with wooden swords. He was a better swordsman than I was then, but I had other skills that he thought cheating and I had used them to prevent him from killing me.

  “Have they taken my house and land?” I asked. “I heard they intended to.”

  “Not yet, mainly because our old teacher, Ichiro, has refused to hand them over. He’s made it clear he won’t give in without a fight. The lords are reluctant to start a brawl with him and Shigeru’s—your—remaining men.”

  It was a relief to me to know that Ichiro was still alive. I hoped he would leave soon and come to the temple, where I could protect him. Since the thaw I had been expecting him daily.

  “Also, they are not certain of the townspeople,” Gemba put in. “They don’t want to provoke anyone. They’re afraid of an uprising.”

  “They always preferred to plot in secret,” I said.

  “They call it negotiation,” Kahei said dryly. “Have they tried to negotiate with you?”

  “I’ve heard nothing from them. Besides, there is nothing to negotiate. They were responsible for Shigeru’s death. They tried to murder him in his own house, and when that failed they handed him over to Iida. I cannot come to an agreement with them, even if they offer it.”

  “What will be your strategy?” Kahei asked, narrowing his eyes.

  “There’s no way I can attack the Otori in Hagi. I’d need far greater resources than I have now. I am thinking I must approach Arai . . . but I’ll do nothing until Ichiro gets here. He said he would come as soon as the road was clear.”

  “Send us to Inuyama,” Kahei said. “Our mother’s sister is married to one of Arai’s retainers. We can find out if winter has changed Arai’s attitude toward you.”

  “When the time is right, I will,” I promised, glad to have a way to approach Arai indirectly. I did not tell them or anyone yet what I had already decided: to go first to Kaede, wherever she was, and marry her and then to take over the Shirakawa and Maruyama lands with her, if she would still have me, if she was not already married. . . .

  With every spring day my restlessness increased. The weather was fickle, sun one day, icy winds the next. The plum trees blossomed in a hailstorm. Even when the cherry buds started to swell, it was
still cold. But there were signs of spring everywhere—especially, it seemed, in my blood. The disciplined life of the past winter had left me fitter than I had ever been, physically and mentally. Matsuda’s teaching, his unfailing affection for me, the knowledge of my Otori blood, had all given me new self-confidence. I was less ridden by my split nature, less troubled by conflicting loyalties. I made no outward show of the restlessness that tormented me. I was learning to show nothing to the world. But at night my thoughts turned to Kaede, and my desire followed. I longed for her, fearing that she was married to someone else and lost to me forever. When I could not sleep I slipped from the room and left the temple, exploring the surrounding district, sometimes going as far as Yamagata. The hours of meditation, study, and training had honed all my skills; I had no fear of anyone detecting me.

  Makoto and I met every day to study together, but by silent agreement we did not touch each other. Our friendship had moved onto another plane, which I felt would last a lifetime. Nor did I sleep with any women. None was allowed in the temple itself, fears of assassination kept me from the brothels, and I did not want to start another child. I often thought of Yuki. I could not stop myself from passing in front of her parents’ house one moonless night late in the second month. The plum tree’s blossoms gleamed white in the darkness, but there were no lights within and only one guard on the gate. I’d heard that Arai’s men had ransacked the house in the autumn. Now it seemed to be deserted. Even the smell of the fermenting soybeans had faded.

  I thought about our child. I was sure it would be a boy, brought up by the Tribe to hate me and in all probability destined to fulfil the blind woman’s prophecy. Knowing the future did not mean that I could escape it: It was part of the bitter sadness of human life.

  I wondered where Yuki was now—possibly in some distant secret village north of Matsue—and I often thought about her father, Kenji. He probably would be not so far away, in one of the Muto villages in the mountains, not knowing that the secret network of the Tribe’s hiding places had all been revealed to me in the records that Shigeru had left and that I had spent the winter learning by heart. I was still not sure what I would do with this knowledge: whether I would take advantage of it to buy forgiveness and friendship from Arai, or use it myself to eradicate the secret organization that had sentenced me to death.

  A long time ago Kenji had sworn to protect me as long as I lived. I discounted this promise as part of the deviousness of his nature, and I had not forgiven him for his part in Shigeru’s betrayal. But I also knew that without him I would not have been able to carry out the work of revenge, and I could not forget that he had followed me back into the castle that night. If I could have chosen anyone’s help, it would have been his, but I did not think he would ever go against the rulings of the Tribe. If we met it would be as enemies, each seeking to kill the other.

  Once when I was coming home at dawn I heard an animal’s sharp panting and surprised a wolf on the path. He could smell me but could not see me. I was close enough to see the bright reddish hair behind his ears, close enough to smell his breath. He snarled in fear, backed away, turned, and slipped into the undergrowth. I could hear him stop and sniff again, his nose as sharp as my ears. Our worlds of the senses overlapped, mine dominated by hearing, his by smell. I wondered what it would be like to enter the wolf’s wild and solitary realm. In the Tribe I was known as the Dog, but I preferred to think of myself like this wolf, no longer owned by anyone.

  Then the morning came when I saw my horse, Raku. It was late in the third month, when the cherry blossoms were on the point of flowering. I was walking up the steep track as the sky lightened, my eyes on the mountain peaks, still snow-covered, turning pink in the sun. I saw the unfamiliar horses on their lines outside the inn. No one seemed to be up, though I heard a shutter slide open from the other side of the courtyard. My gaze drifted over the horses as it always does, and at the same time as I recognized Raku’s gray coat and black mane, the horse turned his head, saw me, and whickered in delight.

  He had been my gift to Kaede; he was almost my only possession left after the fall of Inuyama. Could she have sold him or given him away? Or had he brought her here to me?

  Between the stables and the guest rooms of the inn was a small courtyard, with pine trees and stone lanterns. I stepped into it. I knew someone was awake; I could hear breathing behind the shutters. I went toward the veranda, desperate to know if it was Kaede, and at the same time certain that in the next moment I would see her.

  She was even lovelier than I remembered. Her illness had left her thinner and frailer, but it had brought out the beauty of her bones, the slenderness of her wrists and neck. The pounding of my heart silenced the world around me. Then, realizing that for a few moments we would be alone before the inn awoke, I went and knelt before her.

  ALL TOO SOON I heard the women wake inside the room. I took on invisibility and slipped away. I heard Kaede’s gasp of fear and realized I had not yet told her about my Tribe skills. There was so much we needed to talk about: Would we ever have enough time? The wind chimes rang out as I passed beneath them. I could see my horse looking for me, but he did not see me. Then my shape returned. I was striding up the hill, filled with energetic joy as if I had drunk some magic potion. Kaede was here. She was not married. She would be mine.

  As I did every day, I went to the burial ground and knelt before Shigeru’s grave. At this early hour it was deserted, the light dim beneath the cedars. The sun was touching their tips; on the opposite side of the valley the mist hung along the sides of the slopes, so the peaks seemed to be floating on foam.

  The waterfall kept up its ceaseless babble, echoed by the softer trickle of water flowing through gutters and pipes into the pools and cisterns of the garden. I could hear the monks at prayer, the rise and fall of the sutras, the sudden clear peal of a bell. I was glad Shigeru dwelled in this peaceful place. I spoke to his spirit, asking for his strength and wisdom to be transferred to me. I told him what he no doubt already knew: that I was going to fulfill his last requests to me. And, first of all, I was going to marry Shirakawa Kaede.

  There was a sudden heavy shaking as the earth trembled. I was gripped by certainty that I was doing the right thing, and also by a sense of urgency. We must marry immediately.

  A change in the note of the water made me turn my head. In the large pond, carp were threshing and milling just below the surface of the water, a flickering mat of red and gold. Makoto was feeding them, his face calm and serene as he watched them.

  Red and gold filled my eyes, the colors of good fortune, the colors of marriage.

  He saw me looking at him and called, “Where were you? You missed the first meal.”

  “I’ll eat later.” I got to my feet and went toward him. I could not keep my excitement to myself. “Lady Shirakawa is here. Will you go with Kahei and escort her to the women’s guesthouse?”

  He threw the last of the millet into the water. “I will tell Kahei. I prefer not to go myself. I don’t want to remind her of the pain I caused her.”

  “Maybe you are right. Yes, tell Kahei. Let them bring her here before noon.”

  “Why is she here?” Makoto asked, glancing sideways at me.

  “She came on a pilgrimage, to give thanks for her recovery. But now that she is here, I intend to marry her.”

  “Just like that?” He laughed without mirth.

  “Why not?”

  “My experience of marriages is very limited, but I believe in the case of great families like the Shirakawa or, come to that, the Otori, consent has to be given: The clan lords have to agree.”

  “I am the lord of my clan and I give my consent,” I replied lightly, feeling he was raising unnecessary problems.

  “Your case is slightly different. But who does Lady Shirakawa obey? Her family may have other plans for her.”

  “She has no family.” I could feel anger beginning to simmer.

  “Don’t be a fool, Takeo. Everyone has family, espec
ially unmarried girls who are the heir to great domains.”

  “I have both legal right and moral duty to marry her, since she was betrothed to my adopted father.” My tone was hotter now. “It was Shigeru’s express will that I should do so.”

  “Don’t be angry with me,” he said, after a pause. “I know your feelings for her. I’m only saying what everyone will tell you.”

  “She loves me too!”

  “Love has nothing to do with marriage.” He shook his head, looking at me as if I were a child.

  “Nothing’s going to stop me! She is here. I will not let her slip away from me again. We will be married this week.”

  The bell tolled from the temple. One of the older monks walked across the garden, looking disapprovingly at us. Makoto had kept his voice low throughout our exchange, but I had been talking loudly and forcefully.

  “I must go to meditation,” he said. “Maybe you should too. Think about what you are doing before you act.”

  “My mind is made up. Go and meditate! I’ll tell Kahei. And then I’ll speak to the abbot.”

  It was already past the time when I usually went to him every morning for two hours of swordsmanship. I hurried to find the Miyoshi brothers, and caught up with them on their way downhill to speak to an armorer.

  “Lady Shirakawa?” Kahei said. “Is it safe to go near her?”

  “Why do you say that?” I demanded.

  “No offense, Takeo, but everyone knows about her. She brings death to men.”

  “Only if they desire her,” Gemba added; then, taking a quick look at my face, he went on, “That’s what people say!”

  “And they also say that she’s so beautiful, it’s impossible to look at her without desiring her.” Kahei looked gloomy. “You’re sending us to certain death.”

  I was in no mood for their clowning, but their words brought home to me even more how essential it was that we should marry. Kaede had said that she was safe only with me, and I understood why: Only marriage to me would save her from the curse she seemed to be under. I knew that she would never be any danger to me. Other men who desired her had died, but I had joined my body to hers and lived.