Across the Nightingale Floor

by Lian Hearn

  Just before I lost consciousness I clearly saw Shigeru sitting in the room, waiting for us to return. I tried to scream in outrage at the enormity of the betrayal, but my mouth was covered, and even my ears could hear nothing.

  · 10 ·

  t was early evening, on the third day after her arrival at Inuyama. Since the moment the swaying palanquin had carried her into the castle, Kaede’s spirits had fallen lower and lower. Even more than Noguchi, Inuyama was oppressive and full of terror. The women of the household were subdued and grief-stricken, still mourning their lady, Iida’s wife, who had died in the early summer. Kaede had only seen their lord briefly, but it was impossible not to be aware of his presence. He dominated the residence, and everyone moved in fear of his moods and rages. No one spoke openly. Congratulations were mouthed to her by women with tired voices and empty eyes, and they prepared her wedding robes with listless hands. She felt doom settle over her.

  Lady Maruyama, after her initial joy at seeing her daughter, was preoccupied and tense. Several times she seemed inclined to take Kaede into her confidence, but they were rarely alone for long. Kaede spent the hours trying to recall all the events of the journey, trying to make some sense out of the undercurrents that swirled around her, but she realized she knew nothing. Nothing was as it seemed, and she could trust no one—not even Shizuka, despite what the girl had told her. For her family’s sake she must steel herself to go through with the marriage to Lord Otori: She had no reason to suspect that the marriage would not go ahead as planned, and yet, she did not believe in it. It seemed as remote as the moon. But if she did not marry—if another man died on her account—there would be no way out for her but her own death.

  She tried to face it with courage, but to herself she could not pretend: She was fifteen years old, she did not want to die, she wanted to live and to be with Takeo.

  The stifling day was slowly drawing to an end, the watery sun casting an eerie reddish light over the town. Kaede was weary and restless, longing to divest herself of the layers of robes she wore, longing for the coolness and dark of night, yet dreading the next day, and the next.

  “The Otori lords came to the castle today, didn’t they?” she said, trying to keep the emotion out of her voice.

  “Yes, Lord Iida received them.” Shizuka hesitated. Kaede felt her eyes on her, and was aware of her pity. Shizuka said quietly, “Lady . . .” She went no further.

  “What is it?”

  Shizuka began to speak brightly of wedding clothes as two maids passed by outside, their feet making the floor sing. When the sound had died away, Kaede asked, “What were you about to say?”

  “You remember I told you that you could kill someone with a needle? I’m going to show you how. You never know, you might need it.”

  She took out what looked like an ordinary needle, but when Kaede held it she realized it was stronger and heavier, a miniature weapon. Shizuka demonstrated how to drive it into the eye or into the neck.

  “Now hide it in the hem of your sleeve. Be careful, don’t stick yourself with it.”

  Kaede shuddered, half-appalled, half-fascinated. “I don’t know if I could do it.”

  “You stabbed a man in rage,” Shizuka said.

  “You know that?”

  “Arai told me. In rage or fear, humans don’t know what they are capable of. Keep your knife with you at all times. I wish we had swords, but they are too hard to conceal. The best thing, if it comes to a fight, is to kill a man as soon as possible and take his sword.”

  “What’s going to happen?” Kaede whispered.

  “I wish I could tell you everything, but it’s too dangerous for you. I just want you to be prepared.”

  Kaede opened her mouth to question her further, but Shizuka murmured, “You must be silent: Ask me nothing and say nothing to anyone. The less you know, the safer you are.”

  Kaede had been given a small room at the end of the residence, next to the larger room where the Iida women were, with Lady Maruyama and her daughter. Both rooms opened onto the garden that lay along the southern side of the residence, and she could hear the splash of water and the slight movement of the trees. All night Kaede was aware of Shizuka’s wakefulness. Once she sat and saw the girl cross-legged in the doorway, barely visible against the starless sky. Owls hooted in the dark hours, and at dawn from the river came the cries of waterfowl. It began to rain.

  She dozed off listening to them, and was woken by the strident calls of crows. The rain had stopped and it was already hot. Shizuka was dressed. When she saw Kaede was awake, she knelt beside her and whispered, “Lady, I have to try to speak to Lord Otori. Will you please get up and write a letter to him, a poem or something? I need a pretext to visit him again.”

  “What’s happened?” Kaede said, alarmed by the girl’s drawn face.

  “I don’t know. Last night I was expecting something. . . . It didn’t happen. I have to go and find out why.”

  In a louder voice she said, “I will prepare ink, but my lady must not be so impatient. You have all day to write suitable poems.”

  “What shall I write?” Kaede whispered. “I don’t know how to write poetry. I never learned.”

  “It doesn’t matter, something about married love, mandarin ducks, the clematis and the wall.”

  Kaede could almost have believed Shizuka was joking, except that the girl’s demeanor was deathly serious.

  “Help me dress,” she said imperiously. “Yes, I know it is early, but stop complaining. I must write at once to Lord Otori.”

  Shizuka smiled encouragingly at her, forcing her mouth in her pale face.

  She wrote something, she hardly knew what, and in the loudest voice possible told Shizuka to hurry to the Otori lodging house with it. Shizuka went with a show of reluctance, and Kaede heard her complain quietly to the guards, heard their laughter in response.

  She called for the maids to bring her tea and, when she had drunk it, sat gazing out onto the garden, trying to calm her fears, trying to be as courageous as Shizuka. Every now and then her fingers went to the needle in her sleeve, or to the smooth, cool handle of the knife inside her robe. She thought of how Lady Maruyama and Shizuka had taught her to fight. What were they anticipating? She had felt herself a pawn in the game being played around her, but at least they had tried to prepare her, and they had given her weapons.

  Shizuka was back within the hour, bringing a letter in return from Lord Otori, a poem written with lightness and skill.

  Kaede gazed at it. “What does it mean?”

  “It’s just an excuse. He had to write something in return.”

  “Is Lord Otori well?” she asked formally.

  “Yes, indeed, and waiting with all his heart for you.”

  “Tell me the truth,” Kaede whispered. She looked at Shizuka’s face, saw the hesitation in her eyes. “Lord Takeo—he’s dead?”

  “We don’t know.” Shizuka sighed deeply. “I must tell you. He has disappeared with Kenji. Lord Otori believes the Tribe has taken him.”

  “What does that mean?” She felt the tea she had drunk earlier move in her stomach, and thought for a moment she would vomit.

  “Let us walk in the garden while it’s still cool,” Shizuka said calmly.

  Kaede stood and thought she would faint. She felt drops of sweat form, cold and clammy, on her brow. Shizuka held her under the elbow and led her onto the veranda, knelt in front of her, and helped her feet into her sandals.

  As they walked slowly down the path among the trees and shrubs, the babble of water from the stream covered their voices. Shizuka whispered quickly and urgently into Kaede’s ear.

  “Last night there was to be an attempt on Iida’s life. Arai is barely thirty miles away with a huge army. The warrior monks at Terayama are poised to take the town of Yamagata. The Tohan could be overthrown.”

  “What does it have to do with Lord Takeo?”

  “He was to be the assassin. He was to climb into the castle last night. But the Tribe t
ook him.”

  “Takeo? The assassin?” Kaede felt like laughing at such an unlikely idea. Then she remembered the darkness that he retreated to, how he always hid his deftness. She realized she hardly knew what lay beneath the surface, yet she had known that there was something more. She took a deep breath, trying to steady herself.

  “Who are the Tribe?”

  “Takeo’s father was of the Tribe, and he was born with unusual talents.”

  “Like yours,” Kaede said flatly. “And your uncle’s.”

  “Far greater than either of us,” Shizuka said. “But you are right: We are also from the Tribe.”

  “You are a spy? An assassin? Is that why you pretend to be my servant?”

  “I don’t pretend to be your friend,” Shizuka replied swiftly. “I’ve told you before that you can trust me. Indeed, Arai himself entrusted you to my care.”

  “How can I believe that when I have been told so many lies?” Kaede said, and felt the corners of her eyes grow hot.

  “I am telling you the truth now,” Shizuka said, somber.

  Kaede felt the faintness of shock sweep over her and then recede a little, leaving her calm and lucid. “My marriage to Lord Otori—was that arranged to give him a reason to come to Inuyama?”

  “Not by him. On his part the marriage was made a condition of Takeo’s adoption. But once he had agreed to it, he saw it would give him a reason to bring Takeo into the Tohan stronghold.” Shizuka paused and then said very quietly, “Iida and the Otori lords may use the marriage to you as a cover for Shigeru’s death. This is partly why I was sent to you: to protect you both.”

  “My reputation will always be useful,” she said bitterly, made all too aware of the power men had over her, and how they used it, regardless. The faintness came over her again.

  “You must sit for a while,” Shizuka said. The shrubs had given way to a more open garden with a view over the moat and the river to the mountains beyond. A pavilion had been built across the stream, placed to catch every faint trace of breeze. They made their way to it, stepping carefully across the rocks. Cushions had been prepared on the floor, and here they sat down. The flowing water gave a sense of coolness, and kingfishers and swallows swooped through the pavilion with sudden flashes of color. In the pools beyond, lotus flowers lifted their purple-pink blooms, and a few deep-blue irises still flowered at the water’s edge, their petals almost the same color as the cushions.

  “What does it mean, to be taken by the Tribe?” Kaede asked, her fingers restlessly rubbing the fabric beneath her.

  “The family Takeo belongs to, the Kikuta, thought the assassination attempt would fail. They did not want to lose him, so they stepped in to prevent it. My uncle played a role in this.”

  “And you?”

  “No, I was of the opinion that the attempt should be made. I thought Takeo had every chance of succeeding, and no revolt against the Tohan will happen while Iida lives.”

  I can’t believe I’m hearing this, Kaede thought. I am caught up in such treachery. She speaks of Iida’s murder as lightly as if he were a peasant or an outcaste. If anyone heard us, we would be tortured to death. Despite the growing heat, she shivered.

  “What will they do with him?”

  “He will become one of them, and his life will become a secret to us and everyone.”

  So I will never see him again, she thought.

  They heard voices coming from the path, and a few moments later Lady Maruyama, her daughter, Mariko, and her companion, Sachie, came across the stream and sat down with them. Lady Maruyama looked as pale as Shizuka had earlier, and her manner was in some indefinable way changed. She had lost some of her rigid self-control. She sent Mariko and Sachie a little way off to play with the shuttlecock toy the girl had brought with her.

  Kaede made an effort to converse normally. “Lady Mariko is a lovely girl.”

  “She has no great beauty, but she is intelligent and kind,” her mother replied. “She takes more after her father. Maybe she is lucky. Even beauty is dangerous for a woman. Better not to be desired by men.” She smiled bitterly, and then whispered to Shizuka, “We have very little time. I hope I can trust Lady Shirakawa.”

  “I will say nothing to give you away,” Kaede said in a low voice.

  “Shizuka, tell me what happened.”

  “Takeo was taken by the Tribe. That is all Lord Shigeru knows.”

  “I never thought Kenji would betray him. It must have been a bitter blow.”

  “He said it was always a desperate gamble. He blames no one. His main concern now is your safety. Yours and the child’s.”

  Kaede’s first thought was that Shizuka meant the daughter, Mariko, but she saw the slight flush in Lady Maruyama’s face. She pressed her lips together, saying nothing.

  “What should we do? Should we try to flee?” Lady Maruyama was twisting the sleeve of her robe with white fingers.

  “You must do nothing that would arouse Iida’s suspicions.”

  “Shigeru will not flee?” The lady’s voice was reed thin.

  “I suggested it, but he says he will not. He is too closely watched, and besides, he feels he can only survive by showing no fear. He must act as though he has perfect trust in the Tohan and the proposed alliance.”

  “He will go through with the marriage?” Her voice rose.

  “He will act as though that is his intention,” Shizuka said carefully. “We must also act the same, if we want to save his life.”

  “Iida has sent messages to me pressing me to accept him,” Lady Maruyama said. “I have always refused him for Shigeru’s sake.” She stared, distraught, into Shizuka’s face.

  “Lady,” Shizuka said, “don’t speak of these things. Be patient, be brave. All we can do is wait. We must pretend nothing out of the ordinary has happened, and we must prepare for Lady Kaede’s wedding.”

  “They will use it as a pretext to kill him,” Lady Maruyama said. “She is so beautiful and so deadly.”

  “I don’t want to cause any man’s death,” Kaede cried, “least of all Lord Otori’s.” Her eyes filled with tears suddenly, and she looked away.

  “What a shame you cannot marry Lord Iida and bring death to him!” Lady Maruyama exclaimed.

  Kaede flinched as though she had been slapped.

  “Forgive me,” Lady Maruyama whispered. “I am not myself. I have hardly slept. I am mad with fear—for him, for my daughter, for myself, for our child. You do not deserve my rudeness. You have been caught up in our affairs through no fault of your own. I hope you will not think too badly of me.”

  She took Kaede’s hand and pressed it. “If my daughter and I die, you are my heir. I entrust my land and my people to you. Take care of them well.” She looked away, across the river, her eyes bright with tears. “If it is the only way to save his life, he must marry you. But then they will kill him anyway.”

  At the end of the garden, steps had been cut in the fortification wall down to the moat, where two pleasure boats lay moored. There was a gate across the steps, which Kaede guessed would be closed at nightfall, but which now stood open. The moat and the river could be seen through it. Two guards sat lazily by the wall, looking stupefied by the heat.

  “It will be cool today out on the water,” Lady Maruyama said. “The boatmen might be bought. . . .”

  “I would not advise it, lady,” Shizuka said urgently. “If you try to escape, you will arouse Iida’s suspicions. Our best chance is to placate him until Arai is closer.”

  “Arai will not approach Inuyama while Iida lives,” Lady Maruyama said. “He will not commit himself to a siege. We have always considered this castle impregnable. It can only fall from within.”

  She glanced again from the water to the keep. “It traps us,” she said. “It holds us in its grip. Yet, I must get away.”

  “Don’t attempt anything rash,” Shizuka pleaded.

  Mariko came back, complaining it was too hot to play. She was followed by Sachie.

  “I will
take her inside,” Lady Maruyama said. “She has lessons, after all. . . .” Her voice tailed away, and tears sprang in her eyes again. “My poor child,” she said. “My poor children.” She clasped her hands across her belly.

  “Come, lady,” Sachie said. “You must lie down.”

  Kaede felt tears of sympathy in her own eyes. The stones of the keep and the walls around her seemed to press in on her. The crickets’ shrill was intense and brain-numbing; the heat seemed to reverberate from the ground. Lady Maruyama was right, she thought: They were all trapped, and there was no way of escaping.

  “Do you wish to return to the house?” Shizuka asked her.

  “Let’s stay here a little longer.” It occurred to Kaede that there was one more thing she had to talk about. “Shizuka, you seem able to come and go. The guards trust you.”

  Shizuka nodded. “I have some of the skills of the Tribe in this respect.”

  “Out of all of the women here, you are the only one who could escape.” Kaede hesitated, not sure how to phrase what she felt she must say. Finally she said abruptly, “If you want to leave, you must go. I do not want you to stay on my account.” Then she bit her lip and looked swiftly away, for she did not see how she would survive without the girl she had come to depend on.

  “We are safest if none of us tries to leave,” Shizuka whispered. “But apart from that, it is out of the question. Unless you order me to go, I will never leave you. Our lives are bound together now.” She added, as if to herself, “It is not only men who have honor.”

  “Lord Arai sent you to me,” Kaede said, “and you tell me you are from the Tribe, who asserted their power over Lord Takeo. Are you really free to make such decisions? Do you have the choice of honor?”

  “For someone who was taught nothing, Lady Shirakawa knows a great deal,” Shizuka said, smiling, and for a moment Kaede felt her heart lighten.