by Lian Hearn
She took water from the pool in a bamboo bucket and began to wash him. He saw tears begin to form in her eyes and spill down her cheeks. Her touch was both soothing and almost unbearable. Every part of his body seemed to hurt. He longed for her to put her arms around him and hold him, but first he had to speak to Shizuka.
Kaede said, “It is a terrible loss. How did it happen? Did he succumb to the sickness?”
He heard himself say, “It seems most likely. He was traveling beyond the borders. There are no clear details. Taku came to tell me in Hofu.”
He did not linger as long as he would have liked in the hot water, but emerged and dressed quickly. “I must speak to Shizuka alone,” he told Kaede.
“Surely you have no secrets from me?”
“They are Tribe matters,” he said. “Kenji was the Master of the Muto family. Shizuka is going to have to choose his successor. It is not to be discussed with outsiders.”
He saw that she was not pleased, that she wanted to stay with him.
“There are many other things you and I need to talk about,” he said to placate her. “We will be alone later. I must tell you about Sunaomi. And I had a visit from Lord Fujiwara’s son…”
“Very well, Lord Takeo. I will order a meal to be prepared for you,” she said, and left him.
When he returned to the main room of the residence, Shizuka was already there. He spoke without any preliminary greeting. “No doubt you can guess why I am here. I have come to bring you the news that your uncle is dead. Taku came to Hofu to tell me, and I thought you should know at once.”
“Such news is never welcome,” Shizuka replied formally, “but it is not unexpected. I thank you, cousin, for your thoughtfulness, and for your honoring my uncle in this way.”
“I think you know what he has been to me. We have no corpse, but we will further honor him with a ceremony here or in Yamagata, whichever you think is the most fitting.”
“I thought he might have died in Inuyama,” she said slowly. “He was living there, was he not?”
No one had known of Kenji’s mission save he himself and Taku. He regretted now that he had not told Shizuka earlier. “Come closer,” he said. “I must tell you all I know, because it affects the Tribe.”
Before she could move, a maid came with tea. Shizuka poured it for him. While Takeo drank, she rose, looked quickly around the room, opened the closet doors, then stepped onto the veranda and peered beneath it.
She came back to Takeo and sat before him, knee to knee. “Can you hear anyone breathing?”
He listened. “No, we seem to be alone.”
“Your daughters have become adept eavesdroppers, and can hide themselves away in the narrowest of spaces.”
“Thank you. I do not want my daughters or my wife to overhear us. I told Kaede Kenji died from the lung illness; that he had gone to seek treatment beyond the Eastern borders.”
“And the truth?”
“He went to try to negotiate with the Kikuta. After the episode at Inuyama we thought we might use Gosaburo’s children to put pressure on them to make a truce.” He sighed, and went on. “Kenji wanted to see Yuki’s child, his grandson. Taku knows only that he died in the Kikuta village where Akio and the boy have been hiding for some years.”
“Takeo, you should tell Kaede all this…”
He did not allow her to continue. “I am telling you because it concerns the Muto family, of which you are now the senior member. There is no need for Kaede, or anyone outside the Tribe, to know.”
“Better she should hear it from you than from anyone else,” Shizuka said.
“I have kept it all secret for too long to be able to speak of it to her now. It is all past—the boy is Akio’s son; my daughter is my heir. In the meantime, there is the question of the Muto family and the Tribe. Kenji and Taku worked closely together: Kenji’s knowledge and skills were unparalleled. Taku has great skills, but I think you will agree there is a certain unsteadiness about him—I wonder if he is old enough to lead the Tribe. Zenko is your older son and Kenji’s direct heir, and I do not want to insult and annoy him or give him any pretext for…” He broke off.
“For what?” Shizuka prompted him.
“Well, I think you know how much your son resembles his father. I am worried about his intentions. I do not intend to allow him to return us to civil war again.” He spoke with intensity, then smiled at Shizuka and went on more lightly: “So I have arranged for his sons to spend some time with us. I thought you would like to see your grandsons.”
“I have already seen Sunaomi,” Shizuka said. “It is indeed a great pleasure. Is Chikara to come too?”
“Your husband will bring him by ship, along with a fabulous creature that is said to be a kirin,” Takeo said.
“Ah, Ishida is back; I’m happy to hear it. To tell you the truth, Takeo, I would be quite content with my quiet life, companion to Kaede and your children, wife to my dear doctor…but I think you are going to make other demands on me.”
“You are as perceptive as ever,” he replied. “I want you to become head of the Muto family. Taku will work with you as he worked with Kenji, and Zenko must of course defer to you.”
“The head of the family is known as the Master,” Shizuka reminded him. “There has never been a woman ‘Master.’ ‘Mistress’ has quite a different meaning!” she added.
“You may be called, simply, the head, or whatever you like. It will set an excellent precedent. I intend to introduce this into the local districts too—we will start with the Middle Country and spread outward. There are already many areas where women of merit and ability stand in for their husbands. They will be recognized and given the same authority as men.”
“So you will strengthen the country from the roots upward, and these women will be your daughter’s support?”
“If she is the sole woman ruler, she will have to become like a man. If other women are in positions of power, we may see change flow throughout the Three Countries.”
“You are still a visionary, cousin!” Shizuka said, smiling despite her grief.
“You will do as I ask, then?”
“Yes, partly because my uncle once hinted that this would also be his wish. And at least until Taku settles down and Zenko comes to his senses. I believe he will, Takeo, and I’m grateful to you for your careful handling of him. But whatever the outcome, the Muto family will stay faithful to you and your family.” She bowed formally to him. “I will swear that to you now, Lord Otori, as their head.”
“I know what you have already done for Lord Shigeru and the Otori. I owe you a huge debt,” Takeo said with emotion.
“I’m glad we have this chance to speak alone,” she went on, “as we must also talk about the twins. I had hoped to ask my uncle about something that happened recently, but maybe you will know how to deal with this.”
She told him about the episode with the cat, how it had slept and never woken.
“I knew Maya had this skill,” she said, “as she had shown signs of it during the spring. Once or twice I even felt myself growing dizzy when she looked at me. But none of the Muto know much about the Kikuta sleep, though there are many superstitions attached to it.”
“It is like a powerful medicine,” Takeo replied. “A small amount is beneficial, but too strong a draught can kill. People make themselves open to it through their own weakness, their lack of self-mastery. I was taught how to control it in Matsue—and I learned there that the Kikuta never look at their own infants directly, for a young child has no defense against the gaze. I suppose a young cat would be as defenseless. I never tried it on a cat, only on dogs—and grown ones at that.”
“You never heard of a transference between the dead and the one who has made them sleep?”
The question made the back of his neck prickle with unease. It had started raining again, and now the drumming grew louder on the roof.
“Usually it is not the sleep that kills,” he said carefully. “It is used only to disable�
�death must always be by some other means.”
“Is that what they taught you?”
“Why are you asking this?”
“I am troubled by Maya. She shows signs of being possessed. It has happened among the Muto, you know. Kenji himself was called the Fox when he was young; he was said to have been possessed by a fox spirit—even to have married a fox as his first wife—but apart from my uncle I don’t know of any recent transformations. It’s almost as though she drew the cat’s spirit into herself. All children are like animals, but they should become more human as they grow up; Maya is becoming less. I can’t talk to Kaede about it; Shigeko already suspects there is something wrong. I am glad you have returned.”
He nodded, deeply perturbed by this news. “Your grandsons show no sign of Tribe skills,” he remarked.
“No, and I am quite relieved. Let them be Zenko’s sons, warriors. Kenji always said the skills would disappear within two generations. Perhaps, in the twins, we are seeing the last spurt of flame before the lamp dies.”
These last flames can cast grotesque shadows, Takeo thought.
NO ONE DISTURBED them during this conversation. Takeo was half-consciously listening all the time for the breath, the slight sound of a joint moving, the soft tread that would reveal an eavesdropper, whether it was one of his daughters or a spy, but all he could hear was the rain falling, the distant thunder, and the ebbing tide.
However, when they had finished and he was walking toward Kaede’s room along the gleaming corridor, he heard an extraordinary sound ahead of him, a kind of growling and snarling, half-human and half-animal. Then a child’s voice shrieking in fear, and the pad of feet. He turned the corner and Sunaomi ran into him.
“Uncle! I am sorry!” The boy was giggling with excitement. “The tiger’s going to get me!”
Takeo saw the shadows first, thrown against the paper screen. For a moment he saw clearly the human shape, and behind it another with flattened ears, clawed paws and lashing tail. Then his twin daughters came tearing around the corner, and they were both just girls, even though they were snarling. They stopped dead when they saw him.
“Father!”
“She’s the tiger!” Sunaomi squealed.
Miki saw her father’s face, pulled at Maya’s sleeve and said, “We were just playing.”
“You are too old for these games,” he said, masking his concern. “This is no way to greet your father. I expected to find you grown into young women.”
As always, his displeasure deflated them completely.
“We’re sorry,” Miki said.
“Forgive us, Father,” Maya pleaded, with not a trace of tiger in her voice.
“It was my fault too,” Sunaomi added. “I should have known better. They are only girls, after all.”
“I can see I need to have a serious talk with you both. Where is your mother?”
“She is waiting for you, Father. She said we might be allowed to eat with you,” Miki whispered in a small voice.
“Well, I suppose we must welcome Sunaomi into our family. You may eat with us. But no more turning into tigers!”
“But people are supposed to feed themselves to tigers,” Maya said as they walked alongside him. “Shigeko told us the story.” She could not resist whispering to Sunaomi, “And what tigers like best is little boys.”
But Sunaomi had taken his uncle’s reprimand to heart, and did not respond.
Takeo had intended to talk to the twins that night, but by the time the meal was over he was aching with fatigue and longing to be alone with Kaede. The girls behaved impeccably throughout the meal, were kind to their young cousin and faultlessly polite to their parents and older sister. He saw they had all his talents of mimicry, and wondered if that would be sufficient to carry them through a conventional marriage—even to Sunaomi, for example. Or would they not need to marry, but be able to use their talents within the Tribe, perhaps eventually taking over from Shizuka…? Certainly Shizuka had had the most freedom of any woman he had known to make her own decisions—and her actions had changed the course of history within the Three Countries. Moreover, she had had men as she pleased, and sons—and now, as head of the Tribe, would wield more power than any other woman apart from Kaede herself.
HE LOOKED UP at Kaede now in the dim lamplight, the familiar curve of her cheekbone just visible, the outline of her head. She had wrapped her sleeping robe around her and sat cross-legged on the mattress, her slender limbs faintly white against the silken bedcovers. He lay with his head on her lap, feeling the heat of her body, remembering how he had lain like this as a child with his mother, with the same sense of abandonment and trust. She stroked his hair gently, rubbing up under his neck, dissolving what remained of tension.
They had fallen on each other as soon as they were alone, hardly speaking, seeking the closeness and the self-annihilation, always so familiar, always so new and strange, that came with the act of love. They shared their grief at Kenji’s death, but did not speak of it, nor of her sense of exclusion from his Tribe secrets or their anxiety about their daughters, but all these concerns fueled the wordless intensity of their passion, and as always, when the passion receded, miraculously some healing had taken place. Her coolness had evaporated; his grief seemed bearable; they spoke with no barriers between them.
There was much to discuss, and first came his suspicions of Zenko and his reasons for taking the two Arai boys into their household.
“Surely you will not adopt them legally?” Kaede exclaimed.
“How would you feel if we did?”
“I already feel toward Sunaomi like my own child—but Shigeko is to be your heir?”
“There are many possibilities—a marriage even, when he is old enough. I don’t want to do anything in a hurry. The longer we can delay a decision, the more likely Zenko is to come to his senses and calm down. But I am afraid he is being encouraged by the Emperor and his supporters in the East. We have your kidnapper to thank for that!”
He told her about his meeting with Lord Kono. “They have labeled me as a criminal. Because Fujiwara was a nobleman he escapes all censure for his crimes!”
“Your insistence on a new system of justice probably terrifies them,” Kaede observed. “For until now no one has dared judge a man like Fujiwara or call him to account. I knew he could have me killed on a sudden whim. No one would refuse to obey him; no one would think he had done wrong. That sense of being owned by a man, of having less value than a painting or a precious vase—for he would kill a woman with far greater ease than deliberately destroy one of his treasures—I can hardly put into words how it sapped my will and paralyzed my body. Now in the Three Countries a woman’s murder is treated as seriously as a man’s, and no one escapes our justice because of their birth or rank. Our warrior families have accepted this, but beyond our borders both warriors and noblemen will see it as an affront.”
“You remind me how much there is at stake. I will never abdicate as the Emperor has requested, but nor do I want us to enter into war. Yet if we are to fight eventually in the East, the sooner we do so, the better.” He told her about the problems with firearms, and Fumio’s mission. “Kahei of course thinks we should prepare for war at once—we have time to mount a campaign before winter. But at Terayama the Masters all advised against it. They say I should go to the capital next spring with Shigeko, and that magically everything will be solved.”
He was frowning now. She rubbed her fingers on his forehead, smoothing away the lines.
“Gemba has a new line in showy tricks,” he said. “But I think it will take more than that to pacify the Emperor’s general, Saga Hideki, the Dog Catcher.”
15
The following day was spent in making preparations for Kenji’s funeral service, and in dictating letters. Minoru was kept busy all day, writing to Zenko and Hana to inform them of Sunaomi’s safe arrival; to Sugita Hiroshi, requesting him to come to Hagi as soon as possible; to Terada Fumifusa, informing him of Takeo’s return and
his son Fumio’s whereabouts; and finally to Sonoda Mitsuru in Inuyama, telling him only that no decision had yet been made about the fate of the hostages; it would be discussed at the coming meeting.
Takeo and Minoru were then brought up to date by Kaede on all the current issues pertaining to the city of Hagi and its inhabitants, Minoru making careful records of the decisions they came to. At the end of a long, hot, and tiring day, Takeo went to bathe, and sent orders for his younger daughters to come to him there.
They slipped naked into the steaming water; they were just beginning to show signs of womanhood, their bodies no longer childlike, their hair long and thick. They were more subdued than usual, still apparently unsure if he had forgiven their boisterous behavior of the previous day.
“You look tired,” he said. “You have been working hard today, I hope.”
“Shizuka was very strict today.” Miki sighed. “She says we need more discipline.”
“And Shigeko made us do so much writing,” Maya complained. “If I had no fingers like you, Father, would Lord Minoru do my writing for me?”
“I had to learn to write, as you have to,” he said. “And it was harder for me, because I was much older. The younger you are, the easier it is to learn. Be thankful you have such good teachers!”
His voice was stern, and Miki, who had been touching the scar that ran from the side of his neck across his chest and was about to ask him to tell the story of the fight, thought better of it and said nothing.
Takeo spoke more gently. “A lot is demanded of you. You have to learn the way of the warrior, as well as all the secrets of the Tribe. I know it is not easy. You have many talents—you must be very careful how you use them.”
Miki said, “Is it because of the cat?”
“Tell me about the cat,” he replied.
They exchanged a glance but did not answer.
Takeo said, gesturing toward his private parts, floating limp, innocent, in the water, “I carried you there; you come from me. You are marked as I am as Kikuta. There is nothing you cannot tell me. Maya, what happened with the cat?”