by Lian Hearn
“I have sworn that allegiance many times to Takeo,” Zenko said. “I do not like the idea of being known as an oath-breaker, like Noguchi; to tell you the truth, it is the only thing that still restrains me.”
“Takeo has rejected Deus—it is clear from what we heard tonight. What if Deus was to choose you to punish him?”
Zenko laughed. “If Deus brings me ships and arms as well, I’m prepared to make a deal with him!”
“If both the Emperor and Deus order us to destroy Takeo, who are we to question or to disobey?” Hana said. “We have the legitimacy; we have the instrument.” Their eyes met, and they were both seized again by the same uncontrollable mirth.
“I HAVE ONE more scheme,” Hana said later, when the town was quiet, and she lay in her husband’s arms, drowsy and sated.
He was almost asleep. “You are a treasure house of good ideas,” he replied, caressing her lazily.
“Thank you, my lord! But don’t you want to hear it?”
“Can’t it wait till morning?”
“Some things are better spoken of in the dark.”
He yawned and turned his head toward her. “Whisper your scheme in my ear and I will consider it while I dream.”
When she had told him, he lay for a long time so silent he might have been sleeping, yet she knew he was wide awake. Finally he said, “I will give him one more chance. He is, after all, my brother.”
35
Despite Sada’s best efforts, and Ishida’s sticky salve, the wound on Maya’s face left a scar as it healed, a faint mauvish outline on the cheekbone, like the shadow of a perilla leaf. She was punished in various ways for her disobedience, made to perform the lowliest tasks in the household, forbidden to speak, deprived of sleep and food, and she bore all this without rancor, fully aware that she deserved it for attacking and wounding her father. She did not see Taku for a week, and though Sada cared for the wound, she did not speak to her or give her the hugs and caresses that Maya longed for. Alone for much of the time, shunned by everyone, she had many opportunities to reflect on what had happened. She kept returning to the fact that when she had realized her assailant was her father, the tears had burst from her eyes. Yet usually she never cried—the only other time she could remember had been in the hot spring, with Takeo and Miki, when she had told him about putting the cat to sleep with the Kikuta gaze.
It is only in Father’s presence that I shed tears, she thought.
Perhaps the tears had been partly of rage. She remembered her anger at him, for the son he had never mentioned, for all the other secrets he might have kept from her, for all the deceptions between parents and children.
But she also remembered that her gaze had dominated his, that she had heard his light tread and perceived him when he was invisible. She saw how the cat’s power added to and enhanced her own. The power still frightened her, but every day, as the lack of sleep, food, and speech honed her, its attraction grew, and she began to glimpse how she would control it.
At the end of the week, Taku sent for her and told her that they would be leaving the next day for Hofu.
“Your sister, Lady Shigeko, is bringing horses,” he said. “She wants to say good-bye to you.”
When Maya simply bowed without answering, he said, “You may speak now—the punishment is over.”
“Thank you, Lord Taku,” she replied submissively, and then, “I’m really sorry.”
“It’s the sort of thing we’ve all done; somehow children survive these episodes. I’m sure I’ve told you of the time your father caught me in Shuho.”
Maya smiled. It was a story she and her sisters had loved to hear when they were younger. “Shizuka often told us, to remind us to be obedient!”
“It seems to have had the opposite effect! We were both lucky it was your father we were dealing with. Don’t forget, most adults from the Tribe will kill without thinking twice, child or not.”
Shigeko brought two elderly Maruyama mares, sisters, for Maya and Sada, one bay, one, to Maya’s delight, pale gray with black mane and tail, very similar to Taku’s old horse, Ryume, Raku’s son.
“Yes, the gray can be yours,” Shigeko said, noticing the light in Maya’s eyes. “You must take good care of her during the winter.” She looked at Maya’s face: “I will be able to tell you and Miki apart now.” Drawing Maya aside, she said quietly, “Father told me what happened. I know it is hard for you. Do exactly what Taku and Sada tell you. Keep your eyes and ears open when you get to Hofu. I am sure you will be useful to us there.” The sisters embraced; after they parted, Maya felt strengthened by Shigeko’s trust in her. It was one of the things that sustained her during the long winter in Hofu, when the cold wind blew constantly from the sea, bringing no proper snow but sleet and icy rain. The cat’s fur was warm, and she was often tempted to use it, at first still warily, then with increasing confidence as she learned to make the cat spirit submit to her will. There were still many elements of the spaces between the worlds that terrified her—the hungry ghosts with their insatiable cravings and her awareness of a kind of intelligence that sought her, only half-knowing it. It was like a light shining in the darkness. Sometimes she glanced toward it and felt its appeal, but mostly she shunned its gleam, remaining in the shadows. Occasionally she would catch fragments of words, whispers that she could not quite make out.
Something else that occupied her thoughts throughout the winter was the matter that had made her so angry with her father—the mysterious boy who was her half-brother, of whom no one ever spoke, who Taku had said would kill him—her father! When she thought about this boy, her emotions became confused and uncontrollable; the cat spirit threatened to take over her will and do what it desired—run toward the light, listen to the voice, recognize it and obey it.
She often woke screaming from nightmares, alone in the room, for Sada spent every night now with Taku. Maya would lie awake till daybreak, afraid to close her eyes, shivering with cold, longing to feel the cat’s warmth and dreading it.
Sada had arranged for them to live in one of the Muto houses between the river and Zenko’s mansion. It had formerly been a brewery, but the increase in customers as Hofu became more prosperous had made it necessary for the family to move to larger premises, and this building was used now only for storage.
As in Maruyama, the Muto family provided guards and servants, and Maya continued to dress like a boy outside the house but was treated like a girl within. She recalled Shigeko’s instructions and kept her ears open, listened to the whispered conversations around her, wandered through the port when the weather was good enough, and told Taku and Sada most of what she heard. But she did not tell them everything—some of the rumors shocked and angered her and she did not want to repeat them. Nor did she dare question Taku about the boy who was her brother.
Maya saw Shigeko again briefly in the spring, when her sister sailed with the kirin and Hiroshi on their journey to Miyako. She had become closely acquainted with all the details of Taku’s passion for Sada, and she studied her sister and Hiroshi to see if they also showed the same symptoms. It seemed a lifetime ago when she and Miki had teased Shigeko about Hiroshi—had it only been a young girl’s crush, or did her sister still love the young man who was now her senior retainer? And did he love her? Like Takeo, Maya had noticed Hiroshi’s swift reaction when Tenba had shied during the ceremony at Maruyama, and had drawn the same conclusions. Now she was not so sure—on the one hand, Shigeko and Hiroshi seemed both distant and formal with each other; on the other, they seemed to know each other’s thoughts, and a kind of harmony existed between them. Shigeko had assumed a new authority, and Maya no longer dared tease her or even question her.
In the fourth month, after Shigeko and Hiroshi had left with the kirin for Akashi, Taku became preoccupied with the demands of the foreigners, who had returned from Hagi and were eager to establish a permanent trading post as soon as possible. It was around this time that Maya became fully conscious of changes that had been happening
slowly since the first days of spring. They seemed to confirm the disturbing rumors she had started hearing in the winter.
Since childhood she had lived in the belief that the Muto family were unswervably loyal to the Otori, and that the Muto controlled the loyalty of the Tribe—apart from the Kikuta, who hated her father and sought his death. Shizuka, Kenji, and Taku were all Muto and had been her closest advisers and teachers all her life. So she was slow to understand and accept the signs in front of her eyes.
Fewer messengers came to the house; information was delivered so late as to be useless. The guards sniggered behind Taku’s back about his obsession with Sada, a man-woman who had weakened and deranged him. Maya found herself burdened with more of the household work as the maids became lazy, even insolent. As she grew more suspicious, she followed them to the inn and heard the tales they told there—that Taku and Sada were sorcerers, and that they used a cat ghost in their spells.
It was in the inn that she heard other conversations among the Muto, Kuroda, and Imai—after fifteen years of peace, during which time ordinary merchants and peasants had enjoyed an unprecedented increase in prosperity, influence and power, the Tribe were regretting the old days, when they had controlled trade, money-lending, and commodities, and when warlords had competed for their skills.
The uncertain allegiances that Kenji had held together by the force of his character, his experience, and his guile were beginning to fall apart, and to re-form now that Kikuta Akio had emerged from the long years of isolation.
Maya heard his name several times in the early days of the fourth month, and each time her interest and curiosity grew. One night, a little before the full moon, she stole away to the inn on the riverbank; the town was even livelier than usual, for Zenko and Hana had returned with all their retinue, and the inn was crowded and the atmosphere rowdy.
Maya liked to conceal herself under the veranda, using invisibility to slip beneath it; tonight it was too noisy to hear much even with her sharp ears, but she caught the words Kikuta Master, and realized Akio himself was within.
She was astonished that he would dare appear openly in Hofu, and even more amazed that so many people whom she knew to be from the Tribe not only tolerated his presence but were seeking him out, making themselves known to him. She realized that he was here under Zenko’s protection, and even heard Zenko referred to as the Muto Master. She recognized it as treachery, though she did not yet know its full extent. She had used her Tribe skills undetected all winter, and had become arrogant about them. She felt inside her upper garment for her knife, and without any clear idea of what she intended to do with it, took on invisibility and went to the door of the inn.
All the doors were wide open, catching the breeze from the southwest. Lamps burned smokily, and the air was full of rich smells: grilled fish and rice wine, sesame oil and ginger.
Maya scanned the different groups; she knew immediately who Akio was, because he saw her, penetrating her invisibility in an instant. She realized in that moment how truly dangerous he was, how weak she was in comparison, how he would kill her without hesitation. He leaped up from the floor and seemed to fly toward her, releasing the weapons as he moved. She saw the glint of the knives, heard them whistle through the air, and without thinking dropped to the ground. Everything changed around her—she saw with the cat’s vision; she felt the texture of the floor beneath her pads; her claws scrabbled on the boards of the veranda as she fled back into the night.
Behind her she was aware of the boy, of Hisao. She felt his gaze seeking her, and heard the fragments of his voice forming into the words she had dreaded understanding. Come to me. I have been waiting for you.
And the cat wanted only to return to him.
MAYA FLED TO the only protection she knew, to Sada and Taku, rousing them from deep sleep. They tried to calm her as she struggled to regain her true form, Sada calling her name while Taku stared into her eyes, seeking to bring her back, fighting her powerful gaze. Finally her limbs went limp; she seemed to sleep for a few moments. When her eyes opened, she was rational again, and wanted to tell them everything.
Taku listened in silence as she related what she had heard, noting that despite her distress her eyes were dry, admiring her self-control.
“So something is linking Hisao and the cat?” he asked finally.
“It is he who is calling the cat,” she said in a low voice. “He is its master.”
“Its master? Where did you get that word from?”
“It’s what the ghosts say, if I let them.”
He shook his head in something like wonder. “Do you know who Hisao is?”
“He is Muto Kenji’s grandson.” She paused and then said without emotion, “My father’s son.”
“How long have you known this?” Taku asked.
“I heard you tell Sada, in Maruyama last autumn,” Maya replied.
“The first time we saw the cat,” Sada whispered.
“Hisao must be a ghost master,” Taku said, hearing Sada’s slight intake of breath, sensing the hairs bristle at the back of his neck. “I thought such things existed only in legends.”
“What does that mean?” Maya said.
“It means he has the ability to walk between the worlds, to hear the voices of the dead. The dead will obey him. He has the power to placate them or incite them. It is far worse than we imagined.”
Indeed, he felt for the first time real fear for Takeo, a primitive dread of the supernatural, as well as deep unease at the treachery Maya’s account had revealed, and anger at his own complacence and lack of vigilance.
“What should we do?” Sada asked quietly. Her arms were around Maya; she held her close. Maya’s bright tearless eyes were fixed on Taku’s face.
“We must take Maya away,” he replied. “But first I will go to my brother, make one last demand of him, and find out how deep his involvement with Akio is, and how much they know about Hisao. My guess is they have not discovered his gift. No one knows about these things in the Tribe anymore—all our reports have indicated that Hisao is believed to have no Tribe skills.”
Did Kenji know? he found himself thinking, realizing yet again how much he missed the old Master, and in a rare moment of self-judgment how deeply he had failed to replace him.
“We will go to Inuyama,” he said. “I will try to see Zenko tomorrow, but we must go anyway. We must get Maya away.”
“We have heard nothing from Lord Takeo since Terada came from Hagi,” Sada said uneasily.
“It had not worried me before, but now it concerns me,” Taku replied, gripped by the sensation that everything was beginning to unravel.
LATER THAT NIGHT, though he would hardly admit it to himself, let alone speak of it to Sada or to anyone else, the conviction grew in him that Takeo was doomed, that the net was tightening around him and there would be no escape. As he lay awake, conscious of Sada’s long body beside him, hearing her steady breathing, watching the night pale, he pondered what he should do. It made sense to obey his older brother, who would take over the leadership of the Tribe—or even hand it on to Taku himself. The Muto and Kikuta would be reconciled; he would not have to give up Sada or his own life. All the pragmatic instincts of the Muto urged him to follow this path. He tried to weigh in his head the probable costs. Takeo’s life, certainly. Kaede’s, possibly the children’s—maybe not Shigeko, unless she took up arms, but Zenko would consider the twins too dangerous. If Takeo fought it out, a few thousand Otori warriors, which did not concern him unduly. Hiroshi…
It was the thought of Hiroshi that brought him up short. As a boy he had always had a secret envy of Hiroshi, for his straightforward warrior nature, his physical courage, his unshakeable sense of honor and loyalty. Taku had teased him and competed with him, always trying to impress him; had loved him more than any other human being until he had met Sada. He knew Hiroshi would take his own life rather than abandon Takeo and serve Zenko, and he could not bear the thought of Hiroshi’s look when he realized T
aku had defected to Zenko’s side.
What a fool my brother is, he thought, not for the first time, resenting Zenko all the more for placing him in this intolerable position. He drew Sada closer to him. I never imagined I would fall in love, he thought as he woke her gently and, though he did not know it, for the last time. I never imagined I would play the noble warrior.
TAKU SENT MESSAGES the next morning, and received an answer before midday. He was addressed with all the usual courtesies, and invited to the Hofu residence to eat the evening meal with Zenko and Hana. He spent the next few hours preparing for the journey, yet not openly, for he did not want to draw attention to his departure. He rode to the residence with four of the men who had accompanied him from Inuyama, feeling he could trust them more than those supplied by the Muto in Hofu.
As soon as he met his brother, Taku noticed a change in him. Zenko had grown his mustache and beard, but above that he showed a new confidence, a greater swagger. He noticed, too, though he did not remark on it immediately, that Zenko wore elaborate prayer beads round his neck, carved from ivory, similar to those worn by Don João and Don Carlo, who were also present at dinner. Before the meal, Don Carlo was asked to say a blessing, during which Zenko and Hana sat with folded hands, bowed heads, and expressions of great piety.
Taku noticed the new warmth between the foreigners and Zenko, the mutual flattery and attention, heard how often the name of Deus was introduced into the conversation, and realized with a mixture of astonishment and distaste that his brother had been converted to the foreigners’ religion.
Been converted or pretended to? Taku could not believe that Zenko was sincere. He had always known him as a man with no religious beliefs and no spiritual interest—in this respect like himself. He has seen some advantage to himself: It must be military, he thought, and anger began to rise in him as he thought of all that the foreigners might bestow in the way of firearms and ships.