by Lian Hearn
THE TOWNSPEOPLE OF CHIGAWA were astonished and elated at the unexpected appearance of the heir to the clan. Like the villagers, they had feared they had been forgotten and before much longer would find themselves Tohan. Shigeru and his men were given an enthusiastic welcome and invited to the largest inn. Messengers were sent to Tsuwano. Irie and Kiyoshige waited in the town for Kitano’s response and Harada’s return with reinforcements, making the arrangements necessary to house and feed so many men and horses. Two days later, Shigeru left with his own men to ride south, to see with his own eyes what the Tohan were doing to his people there.
Several young men from the town came with him, eager to act as guides and, he thought, probably hoping for a skirmish with the hated Tohan. They were typical of the people of the East, small and wiry, energetic and quick-tempered. As well as weapons, they brought with them ropes and lamps and a pan of coals with which to light wicks. Shigeru wondered why, but as they rode south, the reason became clearer. South of Chigawa, the limestone upland of Yaegahara extended toward the border like a pointing finger. The road itself curved away from the border. The valley seemed open all the way to Inuyama.
“Surely we should have this area well guarded,” he said. “It is a gateway to the Middle Country.”
“The land is treacherous through there,” the oldest of his guides said, a man of about nineteen or twenty called Komori. “If you don’t know the way, it’s easy to wander off the track and fall into the caverns: many people disappear and never find their way out. Yet to see the border itself, we should go that way, if Lord Otori will trust us to guide him.”
“Komori knows this country above and below,” one of the others said. “The Underground Emperor, that’s what we call him.”
Komori grinned and pointed to the ropes on his saddle bow. “These are the Emperor’s jewels. You can buy them for a few coins in any shop in Chigawa, but underground they’re worth more than all the treasure in the capital.”
They left the road and headed east through the long summer grass bright with yellow daisies, small purple orchids, blue bugle, and white yarrow. The grass seed-heads were forming in delicate, foamy tassels. Butterflies, blue and yellow, fluttered around the horses’ hoofs. Tracks made by foxes, deer, and wild boar crisscrossed the plain. There were few trees—occasionally a clump of alders grew around depressions where water gathered, and shrubs clung to the sides of the deep caverns, often hiding the mouth completely. Shigeru could see how easy it would be to miss the path and plunge into one of these natural prisons. No one would know where you were, and there would be no hope of rescue.
They had ridden for about three hours, skirting numerous deep holes, while Komori named each of them for Shigeru—Hell’s Mouth, Lair of the Wolf, the Cauldron—names created by humans and intended to describe them, yet to Shigeru’s mind no human language could encompass the menace of the dark openings, gaping suddenly and unexpectedly in the peaceful summer landscape.
Kites mewed above them, and once in the distance they saw eagles circling on the warm air. Occasionally a hare started up at their approach, bounding away in huge desperate leaps, its eyes bulging. Pheasants and partridge were also abundant, glossy in their summer plumage.
“It would be a good place for hawking,” Shigeru observed.
“You need your eyes on the ground, not in the skies,” Komori replied. “Few people come this way.”
They saw no one all morning; the plain indeed seemed deserted. So it was a surprise to come over the ridge of a slope and see in the valley beneath it a group of horsemen milling around the edge of one of the caverns. Several had dismounted and were peering over the rim, shouting and gesticulating.
“Tohan!” one of the men exclaimed, and Komori said, “Ah! Someone has fallen into the Ogre’s Storehouse!”
The men around him shouted in triumph and derision and drew their swords, waiting expectantly for Shigeru’s orders.
“Go forward slowly,” he said. “There is no need to attack unless they do. Have bows ready to cover our approach.”
The bowmen immediately drew off to one side. The Tohan below noticed the Otori coming, and their confusion increased. They saw they were outnumbered and at a hopeless disadvantage. Three of the men on foot leaped immediately over the edge into the cavern, plunging without a sound into the darkness. The rest turned their horses and urged them into a gallop. The riderless horses ran after them, leaving one man stumbling helplessly behind.
“Capture him, but don’t kill him,” Shigeru ordered.
The man fell to his knees as the horsemen surrounded him. He was carrying a carved bird perch with two hawks tethered by their jesses, trying to hold them upright and reach his sword at the same time. The birds shrieked and flapped in frenzy, striking out with their sharp curved beaks. Shigeru’s men disarmed the man before he could kill himself and brought him to Shigeru.
He was thrown down somewhat roughly and sprawled on his face in an attitude of despair in the dusty grass.
“Sit up,” Shigeru said. “What happened?” When the man did not reply, he went on, “There’s no need to be afraid . . .”
At that the man raised his head. “Afraid? Do you think I am afraid of any Otori? All I ask of you is to allow me to take my own life, or kill me yourselves. My life is over. I let my lord fall into the pit.”
“Your lord? Who is it down there?”
The man’s face was white with horror. He was shaking with emotion. “I serve Iida Sadamu, son of Lord Iida Sadayoshi and heir to the Tohan.”
“Iida Sadamu fell into the Ogre’s Storehouse?” Komori said in disbelief.
“What were you doing here?” Shigeru demanded. “You have crossed the border with armed men! You were seeking to provoke the Otori into war!”
“No, we were hawking. We rode two days ago from Inuyama. He was leading, galloping ahead of us, following the bird.”
He pointed upward, and they saw the small dark shape still wheeling in the sky. “He and his horse went in together.”
“Hawking!” Shigeru thought it would have made a good excuse for Sadamu to ride to the border country to see for himself what the Otori were up to. As good an excuse as trying out young horses. He marveled at the strange workings of fate that had brought them together in this way. The heir to the Tohan lay beneath his feet, dead or dying . . . The men grinned nervously, as if they felt the same awe and shock.
The birds’ screaming quietened suddenly, and in the silence they heard a voice echoing up from the depths below.
“Can you hear me? Get me out of here!”
“He lives! It is Lord Iida. Let me go. I must go to him.” The man struggled against the hands that held him. Shigeru made a sign to Komori, and they moved away to one side so they could talk unheard.
“Could he have survived?”
“People do, sometimes. It’s not the fall that kills them—it’s starvation, usually.”
“Is it possible to rescue him?”
“We’d do better to leave him there. Throw this man down, too, and pretend we know nothing about it. If Sadamu’s gone, Sadayoshi will go soft.” Komori’s eyes were gleaming with excitement.
“The men that rode off saw us. They will construct more lies about what really happened and blame the Otori for Sadamu’s death. It would give the Tohan the excuse for war. But if we rescue Sadamu and return him to his clan, it will give us many advantages.”
Like the return of the Kitano boys, Shigeru thought.
“If it is Lord Otori’s will,” Komori said, sounding disappointed.
“You can get to him?”
“I can get to him. Whether he can follow me out—that’s a different matter.”
“Would you descend through this opening?”
“No, it’s too deep, and anyway there’s nothing here to lash a rope to. But, luckily for Sadamu, there’s a passage linking this cavern with another; less deep, and with trees around it. It’s very narrow, though.”
Komori called to the Toha
n man. “How fat is Lord Sadamu?”
“Not fat at all!”
“But he’s a large man, right?”
When the other man agreed, Komori muttered, “I may have to persuade him to strip!”
“Help!” the voice cried from the darkness. “Can anyone hear me?”
“Tell him I’m coming,” Komori said. “Tell him it’ll take a while.”
The man crawled to the side of the slope, where the land fell away toward the cave’s opening. The grass was slippery and sharp-edged. He called out, his voice still weak with shock.
“Lord Iida! Lord Iida! Can you hear me?”
“He won’t hear that,” one of the Chigawa men said scornfully. “We should throw you in; then you can tell Sadamu in person.”
The man who had been so eager to join his lord in death had now had time to recall all the joys of living, and for his natural reluctance to leave them to reassert itself. He begged the Otori to spare him, to save Lord Iida, making many promises on behalf of his clan, the Iida family and his own. Shigeru left him to try to communicate with his lord, guarded by half his men, while he himself rode with Komori and the rest over the grassy hills for more than an hour, he thought, until they came to another depression in the earth where the fragile limestone, eaten away by water and weather, had collapsed into the honeycomb of caverns below.
The hills formed a gentle slope here, and water oozed from where it had collected between the rocks. Several pines grew in the moistened earth: two had sacred straw ropes around them, gleaming palely in the dark shadow of the trees, and a small wooden shrine stood between them and the cave’s mouth, with offerings of fruit and flowers placed on it.
They dismounted, and Komori went to the shrine, clapping his hands to summon the cave god and bowing low three times. Shigeru did the same and unexpectedly found himself praying for the life of his enemy.
They prepared the lamps and lashed the ropes to the pine closest to the edge. Komori stripped down to his loincloth and rubbed his body all over with oil, to slide more easily between the narrow rocks. He debated whether to take a weapon, but in the end decided against it.
“If Iida kills me, he’ll die there alongside me,” he said philosophically.
Two other Chigawa men were lowered down after Komori: they lit a small fire at the bottom to help guide him back. Shigeru sat on the edge of the slope by the rope, watching the flames below, waiting for the time to pass.
The sun crossed the sky above them: the sky was bright blue and cloudless. Slowly, the shadows swung from one side of the grove to the other. The sun was low over the rim of the hills when Shigeru heard the sound of hoofbeats. One of his men came at a gallop, shouting, “Komori has reached Lord Iida and they are on their way back!”
He tried to imagine the drama that was taking place below him—the darkness, the narrow passage. What beings dwelt in the caves? Bats, spiders, snakes probably, and maybe goblins or demons. Komori’s courage was a rare kind—he would rather face a hundred warriors than go into that underground world.
The sun set and the flames below seemed brighter. The fire smoked blue in the twilight; the shapes of the men around it became dark and featureless and seemed to float above the ground like ghosts.
Then suddenly there was movement, shouts of relief. Komori crawled from the narrow opening, turned, and pulled another figure after him.
The heir to the Tohan clan was naked, soaked in oil and water, skin lacerated and bleeding from a hundred tiny cuts and grazes. With the help of the ropes, he was raised to the surface, where Shigeru gave him Komori’s clothes to dress himself in, averting his own eyes, not wanting to humiliate the man further or to seem to be glorying in the situation.
Sadamu went to the spring and crouched by it, washing his body carefully, wincing now and then but not uttering a sound. Then he dressed himself in the borrowed clothes. He was a bigger man than Komori, and they did not fit well.
Shigeru gave orders for food to be brought. Fires were lit and water boiled. Sadamu drank soup and tea and ate ravenously, his eyes flickering round at the men and horses. Leaving him surrounded by guards, Shigeru drew Komori aside.
“What about the others? Was he the only one to survive?”
“His horse must have broken his fall. It was dead beneath him. Two of the men we saw jump died instantly. The other was alive, unhurt, but Lord Iida ordered him to kill himself. He had me hold the lamp so he could watch. It seemed to assuage some of his fury.” Komori was silent for a moment and then said, “I thought he would kill me too. He brought his sword and his knife but had to leave them, for he could not make it through the tightest passage with them. He could not bear for anyone to see him helpless. He wanted no witnesses. We have saved his life, but he will hate us for it. We should have left him there.”
No, I must make use of him, Shigeru thought. He returned to Iida and made a slight bow to him.
“I hope you are not hurt?”
Iida stared at him for some moments. “I seem to be indebted to you. My thanks. I’ll ask you to give me a horse tomorrow and see me to the border.”
“I think it is best that we return to Chigawa in case Lord Iida is not completely recovered.”
“You know who I am, then?”
“One of your men saw you fall and told us.”
“Fools and cowards, all of them,” Iida spat. Shigeru studied him in the firelight, and realized that no compassion, remorse, or fear would ever divert him; it gave him a rare strength of will.
He wore a small neat beard and mustache; he was slightly below average height but heavily built; he was still in his twenties, and it was easy to see how he would broaden and thicken as he aged. His features were unremarkable, but his eyes were extraordinary, intelligent and powerful, snapping now with rage, the eyes of a man afraid of nothing in Heaven or on Earth. Shigeru thought briefly that he understood the ferocity of Iida’s persecution of the Hidden: this man considered himself above any judgment from gods or men.
“And who are you?” Iida said, gazing back, seemingly irritated more by Shigeru’s inspection.
“I am Otori Shigeru.”
“Are you indeed?” Iida laughed bitterly. “No wonder you want to take me to Chigawa! And then what?”
“There are various matters that need to be settled between our clans,” Shigeru replied. “Our chance meeting seems to offer an excellent opportunity for negotiation. When the negotiation is completed to everyone’s satisfaction, you will be escorted to the border.”
“The Tohan are far stronger than the Otori. It’s only a matter of months before you submit to us. I command you to take me to the border immediately—as soon as it is light.”
“I believe we are equals by birth and blood,” Shigeru returned. “I don’t know for what reason you came over the border, but you are in the Middle Country now, where you have no authority. I see no alternative but for Lord Iida to comply with my wishes. You may do so freely or we will bind you with ropes and take you as a prisoner. It is Lord Iida’s choice.”
“I swear by Heaven I will see you bound with ropes before I die,” Iida replied. “How dare you speak to me like that?”
“I am in my own country. I am heir to my clan. I can speak any way I like!”
“How old are you?” Iida demanded.
“I am fully adult. I made my coming of age this year.”
“Well, I’ve heard of you. You fought Miura . . .”
“It was a fair fight!” Shigeru interrupted.
“Oh, I don’t doubt that, though it suits us to present it otherwise. I am sure Otori Shigeru would never do anything ignoble.”