He nodded and only then allowed himself to sit down in that now empty place. “I am too tired to argue, so you must be right.”
We greeted the dawn like two roof-dragons from the top of the Rasha Gate and then made our way back into the city. The Imperial Compound was already alive with activity by then, but Kanemore didn’t bother with circuitous routes. We proceeded directly to Teiko-hime’s manor and at the fastest speed decorum allowed. We probably attracted more attention than we wanted to, but Kanemore was in no mood for more delays.
Neither was I, truth to tell, but Teiko-hime had not yet risen, and I had to wait on the veranda while Kanemore acquainted his sister with the news. I waited. And I waited. I was starting to feel a little insulted by the time Kanemore finally reappeared. But he did not come from the house; he came hurrying through the garden path, and his face . . . well, I hope I never see that expression again on a human being.
“I am truly sorry . . . to have kept you waiting, Lord Yamada. This . . . I was to give you this . . . ”
“This” was a heavy pouch of quilted silk. Inside were half a dozen small cylinders of pure gold. I take pride in the fact that I only stared at them for a moment or two.
“Kanemore-san, what has happened?”
“I cannot . . . ”
“I think you can. I think I will have to insist.”
His eyes did recover a little of their old fire then, but it quickly died away. “My sister was adamant that we deal with the matter at once. I escorted her to the Ministry of Justice as she insisted. I guess the burden of waiting had been too much; she did not even give me time to fetch you . . . oh, how could she be so reckless?”
I felt my spirit grow cold, and my own voice sounded lifeless in my ears. “The letter was read at the Ministry? Without knowing its contents?”
“Normally these matters take weeks, but considering what had happened to the letter under his care, Lord Sentaro couldn’t very well refuse Teiko’s demand for an audience. I must say in his favor that he tried to dissuade her, but she insisted he read it before the court. We all heard, we all saw . . . ”
I put my hands on his shoulders, but I’m not even sure he noticed. “Kanemore?”
He did look at me then, and he recited a poem:
“The Wisteria pines
alone in desolation,
without the bright Peony.”
I could hardly believe what I was hearing. Three lines of an incomplete tanka. Like the three that Teiko had used to draw me back to court, these three in turn had damned her. Wisteria was of course a reference to the Fujiwara family crest, and “Peony” had been Teiko’s nickname at Court since the age of seven. Clearly the poem had been hers to complete, and return to Kiyoshi. The imagery and tone were clear, too. There was no one who could hear those words and doubt that Kiyoshi and Teiko had been lovers. For any woman at court it would have been indiscreet; for an Imperial Wife it amounted to treason.
“What is to be done?” I asked.
“My sister is stripped of her titles and all Court honors. She will be confined and then banished . . . ” And here Kanemore’s strength failed him, and it was several heartbeats before he could finish. “Exiled. To the northern coast at Suma.”
Say, rather, to the ends of the earth. It was little short of an execution.
“Surely there is—”
“Nothing, Goji-san. In our ignorance we have done more than enough. The writ is sealed.”
He left me there to find my own way out of the compound. It was a long time before I bothered to try.
It took longer to settle my affairs in Kyoto than I’d hoped, but the gold meant that the matter would be merely difficult, not impossible. The Widow Tamahara was, perhaps, one of the very few people genuinely sorry to see me leave. I sold what remained of my belongings and kept only what I could carry, along with my new traveling clothes, my sword, and the balance of the gold which was still quite substantial.
On the appointed day, I was ready. Teiko’s party emerged from the eastern gate of the compound through the entrance still guarded by the Taira. Yet bushi of the Minamoto Clan formed the bulk of her escort. Kanemore was with them, as I knew he would be. His eyes were sad but he held his head high.
Normally a lady of Teiko’s birth would have traveled in a covered ox-cart, hidden from curious eyes, but now she walked, wearing the plain traveling clothes that she’d used to bring that first message in disguise, completing her disgrace. Still, I’d recognized her then as I did now. When the somber procession had moved a discreet distance down the road, I fell in behind, just another traveler on the northern road.
I was a little surprised when the party took the northeast road toward Lake Biwa, but I was able to learn from an attendant that Teiko wished to make a pilgrimage to the sacred lake before beginning her new life at Suma. Since it was only slightly out of the way, her escort had seen no reason to object. Neither did I, for that matter, since I was determined to follow regardless. The mountains surrounding the lake slowed the procession’s progress and it took three days to get there. When the party made camp on the evening of the third day, I did the same nearby.
I wasn’t terribly surprised to find Kanemore looming over me and my small fire within a very short time.
“I was just making tea, Kanemore-san. Would you care for some?”
He didn’t meet my gaze. “My sister has instructed me to tell you to go home.”
“I have no home.”
“In which case I am instructed to tell you to go someplace else. I should warn you that, should you reply that where you are now is ‘someplace else,’ she has requested that I beat you senseless, but with affection.”
I nodded. “Anticipated my response. That’s the Teiko I always knew. So. Are you also instructed to kill me if I refuse your sister’s order?”
Now he did look me squarely in the eye. “If killing you would atone for my own foolishness,” Kanemore said, “I’d do it in a heartbeat. Yet I cannot blame you for what happened, try as I might. You only did as my sister bid—”
“As did you,” I pointed out.
He managed a weak smile. “Even so, we still share some of the responsibility for what happened. I could not prevent her disgrace, so I am determined to share it.”
“That is my wish as well,” I said.
“You have no—” he began but did not finish.
“Exactly. My failure gives me that right, if nothing else does. Now consider: what about Prince Takahito? Your nephew? Where is he?”
“At Court. Takahito of course asked to accompany his mother, but permission was refused.”
“Indeed. And now he remains at Court surrounded by his enemies. Who will look after him?”
“Do not lecture me on my duties! Who then, shall look after my sister? These men are to escort her to Suma. They will not remain and protect her afterward.”
I waved that aside. “I well understand the burden of conflicting obligations. Your instinct for love and loyalty is to protect both your sister and her son. How will you accomplish this when they are practically on opposite ends of the earth? Which path would Teiko choose for you?”
His face reddened slightly; I could tell that the subject had already come up. Repeatedly, if I knew Teiko.
“We’ve spoken our minds plainly to each other in the past, Kanemore-san, and I will do the same now: your sister is going to a place where life is harsh and she will be forced to make her own way. Despite her great gifts, neither she nor her two charming and loyal attendants have the vaguest idea of how to survive outside the shelter of the Imperial Court. I do.”
Kanemore didn’t say anything for several long moments. “My sister is the daughter of an Emperor. She was born to be the mother of an Emperor,” he said finally.
“If that were the case, then it would still be so,” I said. “Life does not always meet our expectations, but that should not prevent us from seeking what happiness we can.”
“You are unworthy of Princess
Teiko,” Kanemore said, expressionless, “and I say that as someone who holds you in high regard. Yet you are also right. For what little it may be worth, I will speak to my sister.”
“When I finish my tea,” I said, “and with your sister’s permission, so will I.”
Teiko agreed to see me, perhaps because she saw no good way to prevent it. After fifteen years I did not care what her reasons might be. The fact that she did agree was enough.
I found her sitting by herself in a small clearing. She gazed out at a lovely view of Lake Biwa beyond her. The sun had dipped just below the mountains ringing the lake and the water had turned a deep azure. Teiko’s escort was present but out of earshot, as were both of her attendants. She held an empty teacup; the rice cakes beside her looked hardly touched. She still wore her boshi, but the veil was pulled back now to reveal her face. It was a gift, I knew, and I was grateful.
I can’t say that she hadn’t changed at all in fifteen years: there might have been one or two gray strands among the glossy black of her hair, perhaps a line or two on her face. I can say that the changes didn’t matter. She was and remained beautiful. She looked up and smiled at me a little wistfully as I kneeled not quite in front of her but a little to the side, so as not to spoil her view.
“So. Have you come to lecture me on my recklessness as well? Please yourself, but be warned—my brother has worried the topic to exhaustion.”
“Your brother thinks only of you. Yet what’s done cannot be undone.”
“Life is uncertain in all regards,” Teiko said very seriously, then she managed a smile and waved a hand at the vast stretch of water nearby. “An appropriate setting, don’t you think? I must look like a fisherman’s wife now. What shall I do at Suma, Lord Yamada? Go bare-breasted like the abalone maidens and dive for shells? Learn to gather seaweed to make salt, like those two lovers of the exiled poet? Can you imagine me, hair loose and legs bared, gleaning the shore?”
“I can easily so imagine,” I said.
She sighed. “Then your imagination is better than mine. I am a worthless creature now.”
“That is not possible.”
She smiled at me. There were dimples in her cheeks. “You are kind, Goji-san. I’m glad that the years have not changed this about you.”
She offered me a cup of tea from the small pot nearby, but I declined. She poured herself another while I pondered yet again the best way to frame one of the questions that had been troubling me. I finally decided that there simply was no good way, if I chose to ask.
“No lectures, Teiko-hime, but I must ask about the letter.”
Her expression was unreadable. “Just ‘Teiko,’ please. Especially now. So. You’re curious about Kiyoshi’s letter, of course. That poem was unexpected.”
“You weren’t Kiyoshi’s lover,” I said.
Teiko smiled a little wistfully. “You know I was not,” she said. “But at the moment there is no explanation I can offer you.”
“I’m not asking for one. What’s done is done.”
She sipped her tea. “Many things have been done, Goji-san. There is more to come, whatever our place in the order of events may be. Speaking of which, my brother in his own delicate way hints that there is another matter you wish to speak to me about.”
“I am going to Suma,” I said.
“That is noble, but pointless. Your life is in Kyoto.”
“My life is as and where it is fated to be, but still I am going to Suma,” I repeated. “Do you require me to say why?”
She actually blushed then, but it did not last. “You say that what’s done cannot be undone. Perhaps that is true, but you do not yet know all that has been done. As at our last meeting, I must ask you to listen to me, and then decide what you will or will not do. Please?”
“I am listening.”
“You left Court because people were starting to talk about us.”
“Yes. When the Emperor bestowed his favor on you, Lord Sentaro—”
“Did no more or less than what I asked him to do.”
For a little while I forgot to breathe. I idly wondered, somewhere above the roar in my ears, whether I ever would again. “What you . . . ?”
“It’s unforgivable, I know, but I was not much more than a child, and both foolish and afraid. Once I had been chosen by the former Emperor there could be nothing between us nor even the rumor of such. I knew that you would do what you did, to protect my reputation.”
“I would have done anything,” I said, “if you had asked me.”
“That is the true shame I have borne these past fifteen years,” Teiko said softly. “I let this person you detest be the one to break your heart because I lacked the courage to do it myself. I heard later that he took undue pleasure in this. I must bear the blame for that also.”
Fifteen years. I could feel the weight of every single one of them on my shoulders. “Why are you telling me this now?”
“Because I needed to tell you,” she said. “More importantly, you needed to hear it, and know just how unworthy I am of your regard before you choose to throw your life away after mine. Or do you still wish to speak to me of things that cannot be undone?”
Perhaps it was a test. Perhaps it was a challenge. Perhaps it was the simple truth. I only knew what remained true for me. “My decision is not altered,” I said. “I would like to know yours.”
There were tears in her dark eyes. “There are things we may not speak of, even now. If it is our fate to reach Suma together, speak to me then and I will answer you.”
The demons were teasing me in my dreams. At least, so I believe. In a vision I saw myself and Teiko on the beach at Suma. The land was desolate but the sea was beautiful and it met most of our needs. We walked on its shore. Teiko was laughing. It was the most exquisite of sounds, at least until she started laughing at me, and it wasn’t Teiko at all but some ogress with Teiko’s smile.
“What have you done with Teiko?” I demanded, but the demon just mocked me. I drew my sword but the blade was rusted and useless; it would not cut. I looked around frantically at the sea but there was nothing but gigantic waves, one after another racing toward the beach. Sailing against them was one small boat. I could see Teiko there, her back turned to me, sailing away. I ignored the demon and chased after her, but the sea drove me back again and again until her boat was swallowed by the attacking sea.
“—amada!”
Someone was calling me. The ogress? I did not care. Teiko was gone.
“Lord Yamada!”
I was shaken violently awake. Kanemore kneeled beside my blankets, looking frantic.
“What-what’s happened?” I said, trying to shake off the nightmare.
“My sister is missing! Help us search!”
I was awake now. “But . . . how? Her guards worked in paired shifts!”
Kanemore looked disgusted as I scrambled to my feet. “The fools swear they never took their eyes off of her, that Teiko and her maids were sleeping peacefully, and then suddenly Teiko wasn’t there! Nonsense. They must have been playing Go or some such rot. I’ll have their heads for this!”
“We’ll need their heads to help us search. She could not have gotten far. Go ahead. I will catch up.”
Kanemore ran through the camp with me not far behind, but when I came to the place where I knew Teiko and her ladies had been sleeping, I paused. The two maidservants were huddled together looking confused and frightened, but I ignored them. There was a small screen for some privacy, but no way that Teiko could have left the spot without one of the guards seeing her. I looked in and found her bedding undisturbed, but empty. I pulled her coverlet aside and found a crumpled piece of paper.
“She’s up there!”
I heard Kanemore call to me from the shore of the lake and I raced to join him. Just a little further down the shoreline was a place where the mountains dropped sheer to the water. On the very edge of that high promontory stood a small figure dressed in flowing white, as for a funeral.
“Teiko, no!”
I started to shout a warning to Kanemore, but he was already sprinting ahead looking for the quickest route up the slope and I followed hot on his heels, but it was far too late. In full sight of both of us, Teiko calmly stepped off the edge.
With her broad sleeves fluttering like the wings of a butterfly, one could almost imagine her fall would be softened, but the sound of her body striking the water carried across the lake like the crack of ice breaking on the Kamo River in spring.
One could also imagine, first hope having failed, that there would be nothing in the water to find except, perhaps, a few scraps of paper. One tried very hard to hold on to this hope and only relented when the fishermen from a nearby village helped us locate and remove the cold, broken body of former Princess Teiko from the deep dark waters of the sacred lake.
The moon was high again and cast its reflection on the river. The modest funeral rites for Teiko were well under way, and once more I stood on the Shijo bridge, staring down at the moon and the dark water beneath it. Again I saw the onibi flare out on the water. I knew that, if I waited long enough, the ghost lights would be followed by the graceful spirits of women who had drowned themselves for love.
I had seen them before; they would soon appear just above the water in solemn procession, drifting a bit as if with the currents below. The legend was that men unfortunate enough to stare at them too closely would drown themselves out of love as well. I wondered if I, too, before I drowned myself in turn, might see one small figure with the face of Princess Teiko.
I didn’t know what Kanemore intended when he appeared beside me on the bridge. At that moment I did not care. I simply gazed at the moon’s reflection and waited for whatever might come.
He placed a small scroll on the railing in front of me. “This is for you, Lord Yamada,” he said formally.
I frowned. “What is it?”
“A letter,” he said. “From my sister. I have already opened and read the one intended for me.”
I didn’t move or touch the letter. “Meticulous. She had this planned before we even left the city. She never intended to go to Suma.”
Yamada Monogatari: Demon Hunter Page 6