CHAPTER XLIII
TWO DANCING-GIRLS
The Heike had now entered into a period of great influence, and in the popular mind nothing counted so much as even the slightest connection with the Heike. And it was about this time that the gossips of the capital delighted to tell the story of Giwo.
Giwo, from the gay quarters of Kyoto, was one of the dancing-girls who accompanied their mistress to the Emperor Nijo's funeral at Funaoka Hill. That day when Toji fell ill, prostrated by the heat, a young Heike warrior had taken pity on her and lent Toji an ox-cart to carry her back to her home in the capital. Toji recovered within a day or two, and one hot afternoon as she ate chilled melons she chatted about the events of that day with the girls in her establishment.
"Yes, he was most kind. I don't know what we would have done if he had driven us from that temple gate."
"Yes, Mother, we were frantic. There you were, stretched out in pain, and the rain coming down, when the soldiers came to drive us away."
"If that young warrior hadn't been there and taken pity on me, it would have gone badly for us all."
"We should have had to carry you all that way home. I'm sure you would never have been sitting up so soon like this. . . . And to have lent us an ox-cart to bring us all the way home! . . . We really must do something about calling on the gentleman and thanking him, Mother."
Toji had been turning this over in her mind for some time. The young warrior, she soon found out, was Kiyomori's younger brother, Tadanori. Had he not been a Heike, she would not have hesitated so long, but her good sense told her that whatever form her gratitude took, it must also serve to establish some connection with the Heike. She waited until autumn and then called her favorite pupil, Giwo, to her and said: "You are most suited to go to Rokuhara as my messenger to thank the honorable Tadanori for me."
Giwo suddenly colored, and complied willingly, but the anxious look in her face led Toji to add: "You needn't be afraid; I've talked to Master Bamboku about this, and he's promised to meet you inside the main gate at Rokuhara. He'll see to it that you meet the honorable Tadanori. ... All you need do is take a carriage and go there."
Giwo was ready to leave at once, but Toji called her back: "No, no, it won't do for you to go like that! Remember, you're going to Rokuhara. This may be the first and the last time and you're to go in your best. . . . Now I'll help you get dressed."
Toji herself attended to Giwo's toilette, applying cosmetics with great care, until she was satisfied with her handiwork. Arrayed in a pale-blue costume, a headdress of gold-colored gauze and a silver sword at her waist, Giwo quickly stepped into the lady's carriage that awaited her. Kowaka, the manservant, in a new suit of clothes suitable to the occasion, accompanied her, walking beside the carriage.
As her carriage crossed Gojo Bridge and entered Rokuhara, Giwo's heart fluttered wildly with her joy; she was like one in a trance. From the day she had met the young warrior she had never ceased to dream of him. That figure, his voice, and his face had been with her constantly. At the thought that she would be seeing him soon, her cheeks flushed and grew feverish. What was she to say? How would she reply?
Giwo's carriage soon drew up at one of several gates.
"Please—" Kowaka asked of the soldier at the entrance, "has Master Bamboku come?"
"Ah, you mean Red-Nose, don't you?" the soldier corrected. "If it's Red-Nose, go in by the gate over there and ask at the lodge on your right. I saw him there just awhile ago."
Kowaka bowed his thanks and started away, when a shout made him turn.
"No, no! Not that way! Bring your carriage this way!" Bamboku directed, waving.
The carriage finally drew up at a portico and Giwo stepped down. She approached a footman uncertainly to say:
"I am called Giwo and was sent by my mistress Toji at Horikawa to thank the honorable Tadanori."
Other footmen soon collected at the entrance and stared at Giwo for some moments in silent amazement, until one came to himself and started away with her message.
"Here, you, wait!" Bamboku suddenly called after the footman. "Your master is expecting us. You needn't go. I'll take the lady in myself." Bamboku was already ascending the stairs. "Come, Giwo, this way," he said.
Giwo rustled past the staring menials. She followed Red-Nose through long hallways, past several inner gardens. As they came to a connecting bridge between two apartments, she heard rapid footsteps approaching them. Two or three attendants appeared and quickly warned them back: "Lord Kiyomori—step back, please."
Bamboku and Giwo instantly withdrew to one side and waited deferentially. The sound of a clear laugh reached their ears from beyond; then Kiyomori appeared, engrossed in conversation with some courtiers. He cast an interested glance at Giwo as he went past and looked back at her over his shoulder once more, with a whispered question to one of his companions.
"I hope we're not disturbing you, sir," Red-Nose called as he and Giwo paused at the entrance to Tadanori's apartments.
"Is that you, Bamboku?"
"You are busy reading, I see. I apologize. . . ."
"No need for that. I was looking through this collection of poems which I'm told were written by my father, Tadamori, and was pleasantly surprised to find that he had quite a gift for writing verse."
"So I understand," Bamboku remarked, showing no particular interest in the subject.
"You're sure I'm not intruding? As a matter of fact, I've come about that matter I mentioned this morning. Toji at Horikawa sent you a message by one of her pupils, whom I've left waiting in the next room."
"Oh? Yes, to be sure, bring her here," said Tadanori, putting aside his book and turning away from his writing-table. He glanced toward the next room.
Giwo, who had been drinking in the sound of Tadanori's voice, bemused, looked up in confusion as Red-Nose drew aside the screening-curtain.
Tadanori stared at the exquisite vision before him, then turned to say: "But, Bamboku, who is this?"
"This is Giwo, the dancing-girl, a pupil of Toji, to whom you were so kind."
"But her costume is like a man's."
"That is what the dancing-girls in the capital wear when they entertain at banquets."
Tadanori laughed. "I'm only an ignorant bumpkin, I'm afraid."
"Giwo, you want to thank him, don't you?" Bamboku said encouragingly.
"Yes. . . . I—my mistress Toji sent you her respectful greetings and her very deep thanks."
"Is she better now?"
"Thanks to you, she has recovered completely."
Someone was heard calling for Bamboku, then a footman appeared. "Lord Kiyomori wishes to see you at once," he announced.
Bamboku, who knew how impatient Kiyomori could be, began excusing himself immediately. "Sir, if you will allow me—I shall be back as soon as possible," he said, wondering at the same time whether urgent business regarding the construction work at Fukuhara had come up, for Bamboku lately had been spending the greater part of each month there.
Giwo, too, prepared to take leave of Tadanori, who made no attempt to detain her, when Red-Nose, ignoring Tadanori, waved her back. "Come, stay a little longer and chat with the gentleman, who seems to find this something of a treat. I'm sure I shan't be long."
Red-Nose listened to Kiyomori with some impatience. It looked as though he would be kept here much longer than he had expected. Kiyomori rambled on tediously and seemed unconscionably long about coming to a point. He could not very well ask why he had been sent for without giving offense, Bamboku thought.
But finally Kiyomori suggested: "Wine?" and gave orders to the servant to prepare the table.
"I thank you, my lord, I—"
Red-Nose could no longer conceal his impatience. "To tell you the truth, my lord . . ." he began, tapping his forehead.
"What's this, Bamboku, something else you have in mind?"
"Exactly, my lord."
"Fool! Do you expect me to guess what it is? ... What's preventing you from staying?"<
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"Not quite that, but I left someone waiting with the honorable Tadanori."
"Someone?"
"Yes."
"What exactly do you mean by 'someone'?"
"To tell you the truth, a dancing-girl from Horikawa."
Kiyomori chuckled and then grinned. "A dancing-girl, did you say?"
Red-Nose slapped his forehead. Dense, he was! He should have known that this was why he had been called.
"You may have noticed her, sir, as you passed us?"
"Yes, I saw her," Kiyomori said. "Someone I've never seen before. What's her name?"
"Giwo, sir."
"Why did you bring her to see Tadanori? Has that countrified brother of mine already taken to going out at night?"
"On the contrary—" Bamboku denied it with exaggerated zeal, and then carefully recounted the happenings that led to Giwo's appearance at Rokuhara. He added significantly that she was Toji's most cherished pupil, only seventeen and so precious that she had not yet been presented in public.
By the time wine and trays of food appeared, Bamboku was his usual loquacious self again.
"Red-Nose," Kiyomori began expansively before even touching the wine, "She'll do very well. Bring her here."
"Eh, sir, you mean Giwo?"
"Hmm—" Kiyomori nodded.
One by one lamps were lit under the dark eaves and along the galleries, while Giwo watched them as in a dream. This was fairyland, she thought. The evening sky deepened to indigo and insects began to chirr softly among the grasses of the inner garden. If only this could go on forever, she sighed to herself, until the lamps suddenly reminded her that it was time for her to go back. What had she and Tadanori talked of?—Just a few words in answer to his—nothing of all that she might have said. She sat all the while motionless, staring out at the garden. Never had she known such bliss! No, that was not quite true—there had been another such time long ago, when she lived on the Street of the Ox-Dealers.
She was called Asuka—a mere child then—and she had loved Asatori. She was only thirteen or fourteen at the time, scarcely able to pin up her hair for herself, and she had worshipped him. But another woman had come to live with him and be his wife, and Asuka not long after was sold into bondage in the gay quarters. Even the memory of that love was fast fading from mind, and then she had come upon Asatori quite by chance near Funaoka Hill. She had seen his wife with him, and when Giwo reached home she had wept all that night into her pillow. Then, gradually, Tadanori had crowded out the memories of Asatori, until she knew that she was in love with the handsome young warrior. She never dreamed that she would see him so soon again, like this, and she asked nothing more than to be near him.
Giwo in the midst of her musings looked up and found a lighted lampstand beside her. Tadanori was seated once more at his writing-table, poring over the collection of poems by the fast receding light, oblivious of Giwo.
"You must find it difficult to see," she said, pushing the lamp toward him.
"Oh, are you still here?"
"I'm afraid I'm in the way. ... I wonder what is keeping Master Bamboku."
"Yes, he did say something about coming to fetch you."
"My mistress will be worried, so I had better leave now."
"Going? You might lose your way; let me see you to the carriage porch."
Tadanori was leading the way down the corridors when the two suddenly came on Bamboku. With a look of relief, Tadanori left Giwo to Bamboku and made his way back to his rooms.
"This way, Giwo, come this way."
"It's growing dark, so I had really better be leaving."
"Lord Kiyomori wishes to see you. Come in here."
Giwo suddenly drew back. "But—" she protested, clinging to a pillar and refusing to go farther. A light was burning at the far end of the room, and as footmen hurried by, she suddenly saw that this was not the way by which she had come from the carriage entry.
"You needn't be so anxious. If you're late, the soldiers will escort you home. If you think Toji will be worried, a runner can be sent right off to tell her where you are. In any case, you must not offend Lord Kiyomori by refusing."
Coaxing, scolding, and reproving her in turn, Red-Nose finally led her to Kiyomori.
Kiyomori began pouring himself some wine. From where he sat, the headdress of gauze and the pale-blue tunic gleamed unreal in the lamplight. "Red-Nose, remove the headdress and sword; they look uncomfortable," he said.
"Giwo—is that your name? Come up closer—here. . . . Come and talk to me for a while. What is the latest gossip in the capital?"
Red-Nose sniggered to himself at Kiyomori's clumsiness, his foolish speech and the sheepish look that came over his face— the awkwardness that always characterized his encounters with women. Kiyomori, susceptible to beauty, and vulnerable, had never learned to conceal his feelings. This was not new to Bamboku, for he had seen Kiyomori with Tokiwa and after that with a number of other women, and it had always been the same. But it still puzzled the Nose, as he thought of himself, that this powerful patron of his, so magnificently placed, should be so meek when faced with a woman.
Kiyomori had once confessed, while in his cups, that no matter how old he grew, he could not get over the agitation and shyness of a woman who had captured his fancy. He had said of himself scornfully that the virginal shrinking of a young girl only made him shy and awkward himself. Bamboku had finally arrived at the conclusion that this was only Kiyomori's way of boasting, for what else explained Kiyomori's behavior toward Tokiwa? Wounded already, what reason had Kiyomori to wound her further? If it were true, as Kiyomori had said, that he was timid with a young woman, then it followed that he shrank equally from doing her injury, though his actions belied his words. As Bamboku explained it to himself, there was a strain of cruelty in Kiyomori which he sought to conceal even from himself in his relations with women.
"Red-Nose, you know where Giwo lives, don't you? You know her mistress, too?"
"I do, but—"
"One of your favorite haunts?"
"Not altogether that."
"There's no need to conceal anything. You'll go there for me?"
"Where, sir?"
"To Toji and tell her that Giwo is to stay here. Assure Toji that she shall have whatever compensation she wants in gold or silver."
To this Bamboku replied dubiously: "You wish me tell her that, sir?"
"Yes, go now," Kiyomori ordered, his eyes turned in fascination upon the frightened Giwo. Without her headdress she seemed even more pathetically young and frightened, and she wept softly, murmuring incoherently, into the folds of her pale-blue tunic.
Bamboku hesitated. "It's quite late now, so what do you wish me to do about the answer?"
The Heike Story Page 59