The Emperor in Shadow

by Richard Parks

  “You are more than you appeared, Nariyasu-san.”

  “I must apologize for the role I played,” he said as he kneeled before me in the audience hall. “As well as for how badly I played it, as your suspicions were quickly aroused. Yet I hope, when all is done, you will not think too poorly of me. If you are ready, I am instructed to bring you to a place where some of your questions may be answered.”

  Kenji scowled. “You are asking us to trust you in this?”

  He bowed. “Not at all, Your Eminence. Lord Yamada is free to bring what escort he wishes, as I assume you would trust none of my assurances.”

  “Meaning he alone is invited.”

  Nariyasu bowed. “Your inference is correct, but no insult is intended. It was decided this would be less . . . awkward, shall we say, for all concerned.”

  “I will go with Nariyasu-san,” I said. “I will bring Morofusa, but only because it is unlikely he will allow me to leave without him, yet only if he agrees to withdraw when instructed.”

  “This is acceptable,” Nariyasu said. “I know you understand the necessity of discretion.”

  Kenji looked as if he wanted to say something further, but he kept his silence. I summoned Morofusa, who, as I suspected, was not keen on my conditions, but reluctantly agreed, as I would not be dissuaded. When I departed the compound, it was with Nariyasu, Morofusa, Ujiyasu, and the two Taira bushi who had escorted Nariyasu to my compound.

  “When you were Hiroshi-kun, you did not need an escort,” I said.

  He looked a bit chagrined. “There were advantages to being Hiroshi. In some ways I will miss him.”

  “So will I. Now, where are we going?”

  I had halfway expected to be led north to the imperial compound, almost a city within the city, but instead we proceeded toward the sixth ward, and I understood immediately where our destination was. We soon arrived at the sixth ward mansion, the place where Lord Yoshiie had gathered the core of what became the army that defeated the Abe clan. When I had last seen the place it had been surrounded by tents and pavilions, both inside and outside the compound walls. Today it appeared deserted, save for the Taira guards on every gate. We were escorted through the east gate into the garden.

  I noticed the shadows then. One or two only at first, then more, fading in and out of my perception. I heard the faint drone of a chant then, and I understood.

  Kami of death.

  I had forgotten that the sixth ward mansion’s main use was as a convalescent home for those of the royal family and immediate retainers who had taken ill. Yet this was more serious—there were death gods in the compound, gathered like vultures. At first I assumed they were there for me, but the chant told me a different story. I recognized it as a prayer for healing, and realized whoever was within the mansion was in delicate health. The death gods were plentiful but not strong. Prayers could easily keep them at bay or even dispel them, perhaps for years, though not indefinitely.

  “Wait here,” I said to Morofusa. He was not happy, but he obeyed. Nariyasu escorted me to the entrance to the audience hall and he slid the door aside. As I entered he remained outside and closed the door behind me. I knew this was likely a trap. I also knew, trap or not, I had to be here. If it meant my death, so be it. However, I did not truly believe this to be that sort of trap. I was curious to see what sort it really was.

  The audience hall was poorly lit, and completely empty except for a kicho set up on the dais, one with hangings even thicker than the ones I had seen on Princess Tagako’s. Even in the poor light, however, I knew there was someone behind it.

  I kneeled before the dais, and touched my head to the floor.

  “I am honored,” I said.

  The voice was male, a bit hoarse, but strong for all of that. “You should be, but not necessarily as you think. I am the emperor’s representative. My name is not important. Simply know the emperor will hear what you say to me, and I will speak with his voice in this. The emperor does acknowledge you once saved his life. He is also aware of your service during the recent rebellion in Mutsu.”

  “This was my honor.”

  “It remains so? Yet we have repaid you with trouble and danger,” he said, “and, to be honest, have kept you ignorant of information you had the right to know. We did this deliberately and in full understanding of the pain it might cause you. We cannot make amends, but for what little it may be worth, His Majesty believes he owes you an explanation. You have understood many things, as we expected, but not all. Know that I may refuse to answer a question, and I will answer your questions only to the extent I choose, for this is the way it must be. You have heard the chanting, and I will not speak of that, only to tell you to ask quickly, for soon more priests are to arrive, and the chants for my well-being will likely make conversation impossible.”

  “Your health—”

  He stopped me. “Lord Yamada, you are wasting time. I advise against this.”

  “Very well. Will you tell me how Prince Kanemore knew Princess Tagako was marked for death?”

  I could not see his face, but I knew he was smiling by the tone of his voice. “He thought you would realize he knew, and I see his confidence was not misplaced. Yet to answer your question I must also say something that will be difficult for me to say and for you to hear—he knew because we arranged it.”

  For a moment I was shocked to silence, but I understood, in this situation, silence was expensive. “Which, I believe, brings me to my next question—why?”

  “There are those who were against the ascension of Teiko-hime’s son, as you well know. Those forces were, by the will of the gods, in conflict with one another at the time.”

  “You are referring to Yorimichi and Norimichi, I presume?”

  “Precisely. Their conflict strengthened the emperor’s position, but we could not be certain how long it would last. Lord Yorinobu was dragging his feet on the Daijō-kan appointments for reasons you already know—another service for which you have our gratitude. Regardless, we needed time. We knew if fuel could be added to the fire of Fujiwara dissension, the emperor could keep them in opposition, perhaps even strengthen their enmity. He needed an issue to divide them further, but the answer eluded us.”

  “Prince Kanemore. It was his idea.”

  There was a brief silence from within the kicho. “Please do not think badly of your friend, but yes. He knew Norimichi was the more intemperate brother. We let it be known to him that, rather than being married into one of the typical kuge families associated with the court, she was to be joined with an important military family, one known to be unfriendly to their interests, and he reacted exactly as Prince Kanemore believed he would, by ordering her assassination to prevent the marriage. Which is the second reason you were sent to Ise—to protect the princess on her return journey.”

  “Kanemore was also responsible for reinforcing her escort,” I said.

  “Indeed. We could not know how Norimichi would choose to act, but the governor of Kawachi province was under their thumb, so we expected that he would use the governor as his agent. The extra detachment of bushi was the royal uncle’s precaution and it prevented a direct assault. You and your associate were able to thwart the magical attacks. In the meantime, we let information reach the elder brother, Yorimichi, of what his younger sibling was up to. Say what you wish against the Fujiwara, but Yorimichi, already angered by his brother’s intransigence on the matter of his son, was appalled when he found out—as well as embarrassed. After which Norimichi had other things to occupy his attention rather than the danger of a vexing imperial marriage.”

  My speculation to the former governor was correct, almost down to the last detail. I might have been pleased if I weren’t so angry. What I said next was not an accusation but rather a simple acknowledgment. “You deliberately risked Princess Tagako’s life.”

  “Yes. As I said, we needed more time to secure His Majesty’s position, and for this we put the emperor’s cousin in danger. I admit we were surprised b
y the . . . enthusiasm, shall I say, evidenced by the governor for the attempt, but Prince Kanemore had confidence in you, which His Majesty shared. Yet, it is true—she might have died. However, the debacle at Kawachi pulled Norimichi’s fangs. Once Princess Tagako reached the Capital, the danger was mostly past.”

  I took a moment to digest this information, as well as try to clamp down on my growing anger. I understood duty. I understood necessity. Yet I still resented being so completely and thoroughly used, in addition to someone I cared about being placed in harm’s way. Perhaps I had no right to my anger, but this did not mean I did not feel it all the same. “The two later attacks were not the Fujiwara’s doing.”

  He hesitated. “I think you have already guessed their nature.”

  “His Majesty learned the art of shikigami from his mother, did he not?”

  A grunt came from within the kicho. “Ah, so you discerned this as well? It is true she taught his majesty some of the principles before her death. He was able to learn more from other teachers, including your friend Master Chang. His Majesty’s skill and control are without peer. Princess Tagako was in no real danger from those attacks.”

  Master Chang Yu. No wonder he was frightened.

  “Then I must ask—why the ruse?”

  “Two reasons. First, obviously, once the affair of Lord Yorinobu’s daughter was put to rest, we needed to make certain your attention was on protecting Princess Tagako and away from both Prince Kanemore and the Fujiwara, should you be tempted to confront either of them directly and possibly undo everything we had worked for.”

  “So every time it seemed my intent was to find Kanemore-ō, there was another attack. You could have simply told me.”

  “No, Lord Yamada, I hope you will believe me when I say this is one thing we absolutely could not do. This also relates to the question you have not yet asked.”

  “If the reason for the marriage rumor was only to make Princess Tagako a target, is it even real?”

  “It is real, and a desirable union for the reason mentioned, Lord Yamada. A few details have yet to be worked out completely, but yes, very real.”

  He had mentioned one question yet there were many questions I had not yet asked, but I knew time was getting short. “Why did you not tell Princess Tagako the name of her intended? She has the right to know.”

  Another hesitation. “This brings me to the second reason—I said the danger to Princess Tagako was mostly past, but we could not be absolutely certain that Lord Norimichi had abandoned his intentions, even as our solidifying support in the Daijō-kan was almost complete. While, with Kanemore’s bushi and yourself looking after her, we were reasonably comfortable as to her situation, what if Norimichi learned the name of her betrothed? Killing that person would have prevented the marriage as well, and would likely have been easier. With Princess Tagako still secured tighter than the clams of Osaka Bay and the groom’s identity unknown, Norimichi had nowhere to strike even if he was inclined to do so. This we considered to be the best and safest course for all concerned.”

  My anger remained, even though I could see the reasoning behind the emperor’s actions. I even understood having those actions explained to me was a rare privilege to anyone outside of his closest advisors. Yet I considered it only proper to cling to my anger for a while yet. I was reasonably certain I would need it.

  “It was kind of His Majesty to allow me this understanding,” I said.

  “It is, as you might guess, not something the emperor would normally feel inclined to provide, but for what little this may be worth, I do not think ‘kindness’ was the reason for it. Say rather he felt his interests are better served now in your having answers rather than seeking them.”

  “I would not presume to question the emperor’s intentions or his wisdom. I do, however, have one more question, if the emperor’s representative would indulge me.”

  “Ask.”

  “Who is Princess Tagako’s betrothed? Surely there is no longer a need to conceal it from her, and I think removing this uncertainty would ease her mind.”

  “You are no doubt correct, but I did warn you there might be some answers I am not able to give. I am afraid this is one of them.”

  “I understand,” I said, though of course I did not. “May I know why?”

  “Because the emperor feels this is not his answer to give.”

  Not his answer to give? Whose, then?

  I kept my silence. After a moment the person behind the curtain continued. “I have learned that Prince Kanemore has completed his assignment and has thus returned to the Capital. I am certain he would like to see you. Shall I arrange a meeting?”

  “I would be very grateful if you would do so,” I said. What I did not say was the rest of the sentence, though it was clear in my mind.

  Your Majesty.

  Kenji and I had a very long talk after my return. Soon after that, he announced his intention to return to Kamakura and left early the next morning. I could not blame him. I would have done the same, except my business in the Capital was not yet finished.

  When word came later that same morning, Morofusa and Ujiyasu escorted me to the imperial compound and we passed through the Suzaku Gate.

  The compound was more a small city than an estate. Most of the government offices as well as the residence of the emperor were inside. Hino clan bushi escorted the three of us past the Daigaku-ryō, then the Ministry of Ceremony, and the Ministry of Popular Affairs, then the Ministry of Council of State to the office of the Imperial Household Ministry on the eastern side of the compound. It had been many years since I had been inside the imperial compound. I should have been more in a mood to appreciate the beauty and refinement of the structures within, but it all seemed one haze of bad memories to me. Our escort took their positions outside the ministry building and the two Minamoto bushi waited with them when I went inside.

  For a ministry critical to the smooth running of the emperor’s household, the place was surprisingly empty, save for one familiar figure pacing in an otherwise empty hall.

  “My old friend,” Prince Kanemore said. “If I may still call you that.”

  I was no longer certain, and did not trust myself to address the question. “Highness, where were you?”

  In all the time I had known the man, I had never once seen him look sheepish. Until now. “Kamakura.”

  I am indeed an idiot.

  “Taro said we had a visitor. It’s my own fault for not asking who it was.”

  He sighed. “I fear this would have put your son in a very difficult position. As the emperor’s uncle, I had ordered him not to tell you. As your son, he would have been duty bound to answer your question. It was, however, the one place you would not think to look.”

  “You know me very well, Highness.” It was difficult to keep the bitterness out of my voice. I am not sure I succeeded.

  “And I have used that knowledge, as I know you are well aware.”

  “Your tactics. The emperor’s strategy,” I said. “I did see your hand more than once, but I think I was reluctant to believe what my eyes and instincts told me. As for His Majesty—he does take after his mother.”

  “More, perhaps, than you realize. Yes, the plan was his. I helped him to put it in to practice, as details and logistics are more my strength than his. I can apologize to you and perhaps I should, but it will not change anything, nor would I have acted differently had the gods granted me the chance. You have to understand this.”

  “I understand where your duty lies. For so many years now it has been the same as mine. Why could you not simply tell me?”

  “I promise you will understand before we part today, but now let me ask you a question—if you had known, what would you have done differently?”

  “At the least I would not have been taken by surprise!”

  “Oh? When did this happen? What could you have prevented?” Kanemore clearly saw the confusion on my face. “That is what I thought. No, Lord Yamada—we lost one princes
s, you and I. There was no possibility you would lose another.”

  I started to answer harshly, but the words froze on my tongue as Kanemore’s meaning became clear to me. Now I understood why Tagako’s safety had meant so much to me, even beyond merely an assigned duty. I realized then just how well Prince Kanemore knew me—in many ways, yes, even better than I knew myself.

  “Princess Tagako is not Princess Teiko,” I finally managed to say.

  He smiled a sad smile. “No. She is not. I believe you will be grateful for this, one day.”

  I had no answer, as I did not understand what he meant. At that moment I knew only my own pain. “All this time I believed the emperor lived under the shadow of the Fujiwara. Now I think I pity them. For cunning, for ruthless manipulation, they are simply not his equal.”

  “For one who faces what he must every day, this is hardly an insult, Lord Yamada.”

  I sighed. “Forgive me. I meant it only as a statement of truth.”

  “Well, it is true enough. Although I know you do not find it admirable.”

  I considered his words before I answered. “One such as I can afford some scruple. For one who would truly be emperor, scruple is a luxury with too dear a cost. I simply wanted to understand. I almost do. But I still think you should have told me.”

  “How could I? You realize, do you not, that so far as you are concerned, one answer leads to another question, and then another? It was best for your own safety if you did not know any more than you needed to know, and this much I did tell you—guard Princess Tagako.”

  I did not like his answer, but I did understand it. “Was this why Princess Tagako is still in the dark about the person she will marry?”

  “Yes, as I am sure the emperor’s representative told you, the groom’s identity was kept secret to protect him, and we could not risk his name becoming known. It was crucial he did not appear to Norimichi as an alternate target. This could have unraveled everything.”