"No fear of it. If I was one to go about gossiping, I wouldn't tell you this."
"Thank you, Daijo. ... I won't try to tell you anything now. You can guess for yourself," Kowaka said with a deep bow and a proud look that belied his menial position.
Daijo, reaching for his chisel, suddenly smiled. "That's enough now! Such formality won't be popular in the gay quarters, you know," he said lightly, sweeping together some shavings and throwing them onto the fire.
The moon was rising over the Eastern Hills, and the waters of the Kamo River took on the sheen of pearls. The crowds thronging across Gojo Bridge suddenly melted away as the bleakness of a February night set in along the river front. Oblivious of the gathering twilight, however, a small figure continued to lean over the balustrade as though absorbed in watching the waterfowl on the river.
It was Ushiwaka, wrapped in a cloak and wearing black lacquered clogs with high supports, the kind ladies were accustomed to wear. He was carrying a flute in its case and looked for all the world like a young dancing-girl. Only that afternoon the two sisters with whom he stayed had taken him to the market on Fifth Avenue to make some purchases for the Festival of Dolls. It was only a few days, now until the 3rd of March, and they had lingered long, looking at the many displays in the stalls. While they were thus strolling, the two sisters met some gentlemen whom they seemed to know rather well, and they soon accepted an invitation to visit their mansions, and had told Ushiwaka to go on home alone. His curiosity got the better of him, however, and he crossed the bridge to Rokuhara, which he had long wanted to see. He wandered about Rokuhara until almost sundown, amazed by its size, the grand houses along the wide avenues, the numberless side-streets lined with tiled houses, the carriages and richly clothed courtiers, and the innumerable warriors who brushed past him as he stood in front of Kiyomori's mansion. This was the flourishing town where his father's enemies lived!
Miserable and lonely, Ushiwaka made his way back, until halfway across the Gojo Bridge, he collapsed weeping against the balustrade. Was this the spot where his father, Yoshitomo, and his brothers met their defeat? How often Konno-maru had told him the story of that fateful day! And as he stood there, staring down into the water, he was aware as he had never been before that he was the son of Yoshitomo of the Genji. Between clenched teeth he murmured: "Father, I am a man now. I am sixteen and your son. I shall never forget to avenge you. That day is not far off."
As Ushiwaka turned away from his musings to resume his walk home, a stranger planted himself in Ushiwaka's path. Ushiwaka tried to slip by, but the man suddenly threw out his arms and ran toward him.
"Wait! Don't move, Rindo!"
"What do you want? Who are you?"
"I?" the man grimaced. "There's not one dancing-girl in the Capital who doesn't know me. I'm called the Serpent—and don't you forget it!"
"That means nothing to me. I'm in a hurry, let me go!"
"Here—" the Serpent clutched at Ushiwaka's cloak convulsively. "I have business with you. You're a boy, aren't you?"
"Of course not. . . . Let me go!"
"Come, I know enough about dancing-girls to see through all your finery!"
"Let me go, I say! I'll scream if you don't!"
"So you think I'm trying to kidnap you, you imp? I'll tell you who you are—Ushiwaka!"
“…”
"You've nothing to say to that, eh?"
"I'm no such person, but Rindo—a dancing-girl!"
"A dancing-girl, eh? From Kurama Mountain?—You're Tokiwa's son, or else why should I see you wandering about in the neighborhood of First Avenue!"
The Serpent grasped Ushiwaka by the shoulders in an attempt to march him off in the direction of Rokuhara.
"The Serpent's right, isn't he? Come along with me, now. What are you afraid of, anyway? We're going to my house," the Serpent said and then staggered forward with the cloak in his hands as Ushiwaka suddenly ducked and threw himself flat on the bridge.
"Confound you!" the Serpent exclaimed when Ushiwaka's legs lunged out at his own. In a flash Ushiwaka was on his feet and off.
"Now I know you're Ushiwaka and I'm going to get you!" cried the Serpent, regaining his feet and pursuing him. His footsteps thudded across the bridge as he gained on the small flying figure. There was a yell as he came to the end of the bridge. Something flashed in the moonlight. Everything grew still. The Serpent's headless body tottered forward a few steps and then fell heavily to the ground.
Ushiwaka woke from a sound sleep and stared about him. A huge statue loomed up beside him—up to the rafters. He suddenly remembered the Serpent and their encounter' last night.
Ushiwaka's eyes slowly traveled round the barnlike room in which statues, large and small, surrounded him. He recognized Asura, the God of War; the scowling Devas; the Wind and Thunder gods, and even a Kannon, smiling contemplatively.
For an instant he thought he was in a temple treasure-house; then he recalled being brought here and falling asleep. A sound brought him fully awake and he looked up and saw Kowaka getting up from a corner piled with various tools and painting equipment.
"Are you awake, Ushiwaka?" Konno-maru asked.
"You're not calling me 'Rindo' this morning, are you?"
"There's no need for that any more. And you're to call me 'Konno-maru' again."
"What's happened?"
"We're not going back to the gay quarters any more."
"Where are we now?"
"We're in the workroom of a maker of Buddhist images."
"Oh?"
"You might be worried if I don't tell you exactly. Otoami, a disciple of the famous Unkei, lives here. He spent many years in the northeast making images for Hidehira, and that is why Otoami knows Kichiji so well. So you see why you needn't feel anxious about being here."
"Whereabouts is this house?"
"Not far from Shirakawa."
"Then it isn't very far from First Avenue, is it?"
"Ushiwaka—"
"Yes?"
"You had a narrow escape last night, didn't you?"
"Yes, if it hadn't been for you and your sword—"
"I wasn't trying to remind you of that, but I think the Serpent has warned the Heike about you. It will be dangerous for you to show yourself outside."
"How did you ever get to Gojo Bridge in the nick of time?"
"The two sisters got home and said that they'd left you at the corner of the market on Fifth Avenue. The minute I heard that, I knew you'd be in trouble, for it was only that morning that the drum-maker warned me about you."
Ushiwaka said nothing to this, and Konno-maru went on: "I flew off at once to the neighborhood of First Avenue, and you weren't there. I thought you might by chance still be at Fifth Avenue, and Providence must have guided me to Gojo Bridge at the time that I did."
"And sometime very late last night we came here to hide, didn't we?"
"Yes, and did you sleep well?"
"I did, but I'm afraid of what may happen to the two sisters."
"Kichiji has told them what they are to do if there's trouble. I warned them last night, so they may already have left Horikawa."
"Where have they gone?"
"They probably will hide in the country and later go to the northeast. Kichiji will see to that. In the meantime, however, you are in great danger—at least until we reach the east."
"Am I to go to the northeast soon?"
"As things are now, it would be better for you not to stay in the capital much longer. Kichiji has also written that he will be here for you very soon."
"And before that?"
"You are to hide here for several days. You will have to be quite patient, until Kichiji arrives for you, but it won't be for very long now."
On waking each morning Ushiwaka's eyes sought the high window of the workshop, through which he could only see the sky. Then he would sigh to himself. "Oh, to be off! How much longer am I to wait here?"
He fretted with impatience at the monotony of each day spe
nt among the grotesque images. Then one night in March, when the plum trees were in full bloom, a furious storm arose and beat upon the roof. He woke to the sound of a roaring wind. His pillow was wet and he heard a steady dripping from the statues around him. He sat up and listened. All the furies of nature seemed to have been unloosed. Konno-maru, who had left the workshop that evening with Otoami, had not returned yet, and Ushiwaka was alone. The thought then came to him that this was the night for him to do what he had planned for so long. He sprang from his bed and felt for the door. It was locked. Konno-maru or Otoami had secured it from outside, leaving him a prisoner here! All his instincts rebelled against the idea of being a prisoner. Konno-maru, the Tengu—all of them—kept telling him that everything depended on Kichiji. What did he care for Kichiji anyway! Who was Kichiji to tell him what he should or should not do? Now was the time to show Kichiji what he thought of him, but he would see his mother first. . . .
Ushiwaka climbed up on a statue and reached toward the window. The wind and rain lashed at his face. He took a deep breath and leaped into space. It was completely dark everywhere as he started running in the direction of First Avenue.
The wind tore at the eaves and shook the shutters as it shrieked about the old mansion. Tokiwa longed for it to become light, for the roaring of the river set her nerves on edge and kept her awake. She pulled the bedclothes up over her ears to shut out the wind's howling. This time she was sure she heard a grating sound at the end of the hall. It was repeated again and again; Tokiwa finally pushed back the coverlets and turned over in bed toward Yomogi.
Yesterday was the 3rd of March—the Festival of Dolls—and Tokiwa had arranged some paper and clay dolls in her room. Yomogi had come to call on her, bringing a spray of peach blossoms and some sweetmeats she had prepared herself. They had talked until evening, when the storm forced Yomogi to stay the night.
Yomogi was awake, too, squirming restlessly.
"Yomogi—what can that sound be?"
"It's an odd sound. It couldn't be the wind. I've been bothered by it, too. I'll go and see," Yomogi replied, getting out of bed and lighting a lamp. The flame flickered wildly. "It's strange the wind keeps rushing through the house."
Her shadow undulated crazily as Yomogi stepped out into the hall, holding up the light.
Tokiwa sat up in bed. Yomogi, meanwhile, made her way down the long passage; she stopped at each turning, where the darkness seemed to rush at her eerily; the sound of rain dripping suddenly made her turn; a door facing on the river was open and a figure stood in the dim square of the doorway.
"Are you one of the servants?" the figure asked.
"Yes," Yomogi replied. "I was spending the night with my former mistress."
As she went toward the open door, the lamp flickered and went out.
Yomogi realized that it was one of the Heike soldiers who stood guard here every night.
"Did you see anyone?" he asked.
"No, no one," Yomogi replied.
"It must have been the wind after all, but it's strange how the door has been lifted off its hinges."
"Yes, everything about here seems to be falling to pieces."
"That's true. What are you doing up at this hour?"
"I couldn't sleep because of all this racket—the wind blowing through the house."
"But the storm's almost over."
"This is a bad night for you out there, isn't it?"
"Not an easy life, I can tell you. Besides there have been strange goings-on at Fifth Avenue and Horikawa lately, and we have to keep our eyes open."
"What happened at Fifth Avenue and Horikawa?"
"All this talk about Tengu demons and the mischief they're up to. ... Housebreakers more likely, but I'm not supposed to be gossiping like this. Better lock the door and get to bed. It'll be day soon."
Yomogi listened to the soldier's departing footsteps; then, setting the door in its place, she groped her way back to her room. Suddenly her blood ran cold as something warm and soft brushed against her. She was about to scream, but steadied herself. "Who —who's there?" she asked.
Something stirring by the wall startled her and caused her to draw back.
"Please—" it said, and threw its arms about Yomogi.
She felt a cheek against her own and then the grip tightened.
"Are you my mother?" came a hoarse whisper.
Yomogi gasped. "Who—who is it?"
"Ushiwaka—it's Ushiwaka, Mother!"
"No, no! I'm not your mother. Not your mother," Yomogi repeated, struggling to free herself. Then something struck her shoulder, and she reeled. Wrenching herself free, she ran down the hall.
"My lady, my lady—Ushiwaka!" she exclaimed breathlessly into Tokiwa's ear.
"Yes?" Tokiwa replied quietly.
"Wait, my lady, until I bring a light."
"No, Yomogi, not now. It will only bring the guards."
"That's true, but—a very small light?"
"Not even that. ... I wonder what it will be like to see my son again. No—the thought frightens me. It wasn't a dream after all, and he's actually here!"
“…”
"Ushiwaka, where are you?"
"Here, here I am! Here, Mother!"
There was a sound of sobbing in the dark.
"Ushiwaka, how you've grown!"
"Yes—"
"My letters and messages reached you on Kurama Mountain, didn't they?"
"They did."
"What can I say to you, now that you are sixteen this spring, a man? If you were still at the monastery, there would be some things I would want to tell you as your mother. They are my prayers for my son. . . . Yet no matter how fervent one's prayers, they rarely are answered. You call me Mother, but I did so little for you."
"No, no—" Ushiwaka protested, clinging to Tokiwa and burying his face in her lap. "It was not your fault that it was so. The Heike—Kiyomori is the guilty one!"
Tokiwa caught her breath sharply; her pale face drooped forward against Ushiwaka's shoulder, and he lifted his face to hers in the dark, saying:
"Mother, that's true, isn't it? I tricked them by escaping. I'm glad that I did it. You hoped that I would become a monk, but I am Yoshitomo's son and a warrior. How is it possible for me to be anything else? There is no refuge anywhere from the fret of existence. Where indeed is there such a life? What difference is there between the life here and that in the remotest temple where men fawn on the Heike, fear and obey them?"
“…”
"Forgive me, Mother. I may be going against your wishes. But I am Yoshitomo's son and cannot be anything else than a warrior. I must see that the name of Genji is honored once more. I shall soon be a man. Kiyomori's triumph will not last long."
Tokiwa listened to Ushiwaka in great agony of mind. He had heard only of how the Genji had been wronged, but she alone knew that Ushiwaka owed his life to Kiyomori of the Heike. Nor had she the right to tell him this. It would remain her secret.
The Heike Story Page 68