Finally he called softly:
"Good-day, is this where the recluse Giwo lives?"
A sound of chanting ceased. "Yes?—" came a fresh voice from within; then a face, surprisingly young and lovely for a nun's, appeared over the hedge. "Who is it, please?"
"Are you not Giwo?"
"No, I am her younger sister."
Konno-maru smiled as he recognized her. "Don't you remember me—Kowaka, Toji's servant?"
"Is it really you, Kowaka? Come inside and wait. I'll call Giwo."
Giwo appeared almost immediately, and Konno-maru greeted her, saying:
"Ah, Giwo! How long is it since I last saw you? I've thought of you often, but—"
"Has all gone well with you, Kowaka? Are you still with Toji?"
"Yes, it's lively there. The work's pleasant, and the years slip by before I know it. Yes, it must be at least eight years since I went with you to Rokuhara."
"It's like a dream, isn't it? Five or six years have gone by since I came to live here with my mother, sister, and Hotokй."
"Yes indeed, all those years since you went to Rokuhara. You never came back to us after that."
Giwo's face clouded. "Please, Kowaka, don't talk of the past. Now that I have taken the vows of a nun, I blush when I think of it."
"Forgive me; it was stupid of me to go on like that—and that reminds me of why I'm here."
"You promised to meet Master Kichiji here, didn't you?"
"Yes, he's Toji's most respected and generous patron."
"He often asked me to perform for him. I was quite amazed when he arrived here yesterday."
"Yesterday?"
"Yes, we talked for some time, then he left, saying that he had hired a boat on the Hozu River and was taking several of Toji's girls to spend the evening on the water."
"Has he come back yet?"
"He was back again early this morning to admire the morning-glories about the house, and told me that you might be coming to fetch him. He ordered his carriage to be left in the shade where you would see it. I was to tell you that he was staying at that temple you can see from here."
Konno-maru thanked Giwo and said good-by. Then he motioned to Ushiwaka, and together they walked over to the carriage. Konno-maru lifted a blind and looked inside. The interior smelled of incense, perfume, and scented oils.
"Ushiwaka, will you wait inside here? I shall be back right away."
From the back of the carriage Konno-maru pulled out a white tunic such as ox-tenders wear and threw it on over his clothes before setting out for the temple.
Ushiwaka examined the carriage's interior curiously. The mustiness and the cloying odors stifled him. They reminded him of his mother—her letters about which clung the same fragrance, the smell that he had come to think of as the smell of women. He lifted the blinds, which Konno-maru had carefully drawn, and looked out from time to time.
Kichiji lay napping in a room in the temple when a priest appeared and wakened him, saying that a manservant had arrived to fetch him. Kichiji quickly got up and went to a door at the back of the temple.
"Kowaka! So you've come—my thanks!"
"I was afraid that I wouldn't get here in time," Konno-maru replied. "Shall we leave at once?"
After thanking the priest, the two left the temple for Giwo's cottage, near by.
"I shall be back again," Kichiji smiled. "I'm afraid, though, that I've put you to some trouble," he said apologetically as he stepped into his carriage.
His sudden appearance took Ushiwaka by surprise; he stared at Kichiji without saying a word. As the carriage jolted into motion, Kichiji leaned toward him and whispered:
"You need not fear anything now that I'm here."
After a moment's silence Kichiji once more whispered: "But —if you're not a Heike, you're a nobody. That's how the world is today. If you're depending on me to help you escape to the northeast, then you must be ready to put up with a number of things and to do exactly as I tell you."
The carriage drew to a stop as they arrived in front of a villa by a river. The sound of wheels brought two dancing-girls running from among the willow trees. Kichiji alighted and greeted them.
"Where are the others? Gone on ahead, did you say? Never mind, then, I can hire a horse or litter for myself."
After chattering somewhat inconsequentially, the two dancing-girls squeezed themselves into the carriage beside Ushiwaka.
"Well, you might as well start on ahead." Kichiji waved to Kowaka, who nodded and laid his whip to the ox.
Ushiwaka guessed from their conversation that the dancing-girls were sisters—one, Kichiji's mistress. They stared frankly at Ushiwaka, whispered to each other, and then smiled at him.
"Charming, isn't he?"
"Rather small for his age, though, don't you think?"
With sidelong glances the two women remarked on Ushiwaka's appearance from time to time as though they had acquired a household pet. Ushiwaka felt suffocated by the rich scent of the women's garments; his heart thumped, and he kept his face glued to the small window as he stared out at the scenery.
"He seems to find the sights of the city quite absorbing. Isn't that so—sir?"
Ushiwaka ignored the questions addressed to him. He was entranced by everything he saw as they passed through the capital.
"Look!—there's Master Kichiji himself, ahead of us," exclaimed one of the dancing-girls, pointing to one side of the road. As Kichiji rode past them, he glanced over his shoulder at the carriage and flung a few words at Kowaka, who was leading the ox.
Soon the willow-lined street at Horikawa came into view. Lights from the houses along the canal danced on the waters, and the sound of flutes and drums and the scents of a warm summer's night penetrated the carriage blinds. They soon turned down a lane and drew up in front of a neat-looking house where Kichiji was already waiting.
"Sir," he said to Ushiwaka, "won't you come in? This is my house, and you are to make this your home."
Ushiwaka was unable to sleep that night. All the sights and sounds of his new surroundings disquieted him. Even the food tasted strangely.
He was not allowed to go out and grew restless. It was two weeks later when Kichiji, who had not come again since the night he first arrived here, appeared.
"How are you getting on?" he asked Ushiwaka. "Not lonely, are you? The Heike are keeping a close watch on everyone, so I purposely avoided coming. Don't think I've forgotten you."
Ushiwaka said nothing to this, and Kichiji went on: "Fortunately, I don't think they will be coming around much longer. All the roads, ports, and city gates are closely watched. Those who have had any connections with the Genji until now are suspect, but I foxed them," he laughed. "Who would ever think of searching the gay quarters?"
Ushiwaka still said nothing.
Kichiji remarked: "Of course, sir, I need not remind you of how precious your life is to the Genji. If it were not for you and your half-brother Yoritomo in Izu, the Genji would have nothing to live for. All their hopes are in you."
"Kichiji—when do I start for the northeast?" Ushiwaka suddenly broke in.
"Well, I have to be very careful. I can't take any risks. I'll wait until the Heike are off their guard. Perhaps spring will be the time for me to accompany you north."
"Spring?"
"Early next year, I should say."
"And before then?"
"It will be safe enough for you here in the capital. To make sure, however, you are to dress up like a girl, and when you're quite used to your disguise, you can go about safely without fear of being recognized. You will stay here until I come back for you."
Kichiji soon after set out for the northeast, promising to return in either February or March. Konno-maru received careful instructions as to what he was to do while Kichiji was away, and Ushiwaka was left in the care of the two sisters.
"I don't want to dress up like a girl," Ushiwaka kept insisting to the two sisters and to Konno-maru, who appeared daily; it was only after
much persuading that Ushiwaka finally agreed to having his hair pinned up and knotted as though he were a girl. He wore the bright-colored dress that young dancing-girls wore. His face was carefully powdered and rouged until he could be taken only for a girl. As he grew accustomed to his disguise and the name Rindo (gentian), he began to harass Konno-maru with reproaches.
"Kowaka, you lied to me," he kept repeating. "You haven't yet told me when I am to see my mother. You once said that she was ill, but that isn't so. Asatori told me that she too wants to see me."
Since his flight from Kurama Mountain, Ushiwaka seemed obsessed by the thought of his mother. But Konno-maru tried his best to point out the risks he would be taking. "You must understand that I'm not trying to prevent your seeing her, but the Heike are guarding the mansion day and night. They are sure you will try to go there, and are on the watch for you."
But Ushiwaka persisted.
"You're going to the northeast, aren't you?"
"No. I must see my mother first."
"I have told you all along that for your mother's sake as well as your own you must not try to see her now."
"First Avenue where she lives is not far from here, is it, Kowaka? Then what is wrong about my wanting to see her?"
"If the Heike soldiers were not on guard there, there would be nothing to prevent your seeing her."
"You are cruel, Kowaka, not to let me see my mother. I only wish I were a man, and then I would punish the Heike.”
"Well said! If you wish to see your mother, don't forget that that is what you must do first."
"How I hate them—the Heike!" Ushiwaka often exclaimed with a harsh, intent look
Ushiwaka, disguised as pretty Rindo, soon became a familiar sight to people living along the willow-fringed canal at Horikawa, where he often walked alone. The two sisters with whom he lived sometimes took him to the markets on Fourth and Fifth avenues. Very soon they were giving him lessons on the drum and flute, and by winter he went regularly to his dancing lessons.
Daijo, a maker of hand-drums who lived close by, had a ten-year-old daughter who came daily to the two sisters for lessons. She was called Shizuka and could perform more skillfully on the drum and flute than Ushiwaka, whom she looked up to as if he were an elder sister.
"Rindo, why don't you become a dancing-girl?" she asked Ushiwaka one day.
"I don't know about that," Ushiwaka replied. "I'm still very clumsy at playing the drum and flute."
"Why not next year, then?"
"Yes, but what about you, Shizuka?"
"I—" Shizuka hesitated, thoughtfully.
"Don't you like dancing-girls?"
"I'm not quite sure."
They were tumbling in the snow one day, forgetting that they must be on their way home, when Ushiwaka suddenly asked:
"Don't you want to come with me to First Avenue?"
"Where is First Avenue?"
"A little way up the river."
Ushiwaka was familiar by now with the shabby mansion on the river; he had gone past it many a time with a beating heart, haunted by the fear that the Heike guards there would recognize him.
"Rindo! Where are you off to?" Konno-maru exclaimed when he came upon the truants. He knew that Ushiwaka often wandered about First Avenue and he had brought a carriage with him to fetch Ushiwaka home. Ushiwaka's clothes were draggled; he was cold and miserable, and sobbed with disappointment as Konno-maru bundled him and his little companion into the carriage and started for Horikawa. Inside, the two huddled against each other, Shizuka warming Ushiwaka's frozen hands against her cheeks, and Ushiwaka holding her close in his arms, until they soon fell fast asleep.
CHAPTER L
JOURNEY TO THE EAST
New Year's Day of 1174 was clear and serene; the entire capital wore a tranquil air. The elaborate ceremonials at Court were over, and without mishaps. No man died of hunger on the streets of Kyoto. And never had there been such peace under the Fujiwara as had lasted now for ten or more years under the Heike. There had been no bloody upheavals in all that time, and the common people believed that they owed this to Kiyomori.
Such peace notwithstanding, there were sporadic outbursts of vituperation against the Heike, coming not from the common people, but the aristocrats. The Heike were slandered for their power, their arrogance, and even their noble lineage. Lately, however, persistent gossip of another kind occupied tongues in the capital. There was talk that the Genji were not completely crushed, and that they were preparing to challenge the Heike once more. These rumors seemed to have been spread by the monks of Kurama Mountain whenever they came to the capital, and Ushiwaka's disappearance and stories of the Tengu went far to justify these rumors.
The Heike redoubled their vigilance. Even the gay quarters became suspect, until in February officers arrived from Rokuhara periodically to make a house-to-house search of Horikawa, and agents of the Police Commission were often seen there.
Two or three blossoms had unfolded on the plum tree by Daijo's shop toward noon of a day in February, and the drum-maker called to a passer-by from his workshop:
"Hullo, hullo there! Isn't that you, Kowaka?"
Kowaka retraced his steps and peered in at the threshold.
"You seem busy as usual, Daijo. You're sure I won't be in the way?"
"Sit down for a moment. You can't go by without looking in."
"I was afraid I might be in the way."
". . . By the way, I had something to tell you. I couldn't very well go to Toji's to see you about this, and I was just telling my wife this morning that I hoped you'd come by."
"Eh? Has anything unusual happened?"
"Look here, do you know a man by the name of Serpent?"
"I do."
"You'd better be careful of him."
"Of the Serpent, you say?"
"To tell you the truth, he was here yesterday and told me that there's something unusual about the girl Rindo."
"What! He said that to you?"
"Now listen—you know how Rindo and my daughter Shizuka are always playing together. Well, the Serpent has been coming here for no reason I can see. He seems to be after something. I made Shizuka promise not to say a thing to him."
"Has this Serpent been putting some odd questions to your little daughter?"
"He's been taking Shizuka aside and telling her that Rindo isn't a girl. He threatened Shizuka, saying that if she didn't tell the truth he'd send the Heike soldiers after her."
"Hmm? ... A disagreeable fellow . . . putting ideas into people's heads."
"Kowaka—"
“Yes.”
"That's all I wanted to tell you, but I warn you to be careful. Other people as well as the Serpent are apt to notice things."
"Well, Daijo, I'm grateful to you and wouldn't like to get you into trouble. You won't repeat this, I know."
The Heike Story Page 67