The Golden Naginata (18 page)

“You are slow in your old age,” she teased, then hurried on. Momentarily she came to the rooms Yoshinake had selected for himself and his wife on the day the castle was taken. He sat against one wall with his elbow on a padded arm-table. He glowered into space, not seeming to notice who had entered. Tomoe came up to him and dropped to her knees, face tipped down a little, awaiting permission to speak. After an uncomfortable silence, Yoshinake removed the letter from his sleeve-pocket, waved it like a flag, and said with hoarse annoyance, “Why do you send such news as this in a letter? Are you afraid to speak to me in person?”

“My apologies, Lord Kiso.” She bowed further, as might any cowed vassal.

“You call me that? You were less formal before you left!”

Challenged, she sat up tall, hands on knees, and admitted plainly, “Sometimes you are difficult to approach with a difficult matter, it is true.”

“You should not feel like that with me! You come tonight like a vassal, not a wife; you sit there as though we are not intimate. You are my equal in everything and need not be overwhelmed by me. Haven't I given you your own crest?”

Tomoe said, “You have made me more solitary than independent. If you would command me more, perhaps it would not be true that I am less lonesome in a graveyard, and find it easier to converse with ghosts.”

“I promised not to rule you!” stormed Yoshinake. “You require subjugation?”

“You are subject to the Shogun,” she reminded. “Every samurai must serve.”

“You serve me well!” he said. “You should think of liberty as your reward.”

“I will do so,” she said, still formal. Yoshinake grumbled because she would not soften. Then he said more calmly,

“Explain this letter to me. If it makes it easier, I command you to do so.”

Tomoe looked toward her left, at the wall behind which three bodyguards were always sitting. She rose to her feet, went to the wall, and slid a panel aside. “Go away!” she snapped, her tone imitating that of her husband. They looked at Lord Kiso, who did not contradict Tomoe's order. They stood, bowed, and shuffled away like a short parade. Tomoe shut the panel. To Yoshinake she said, “It is as I wrote you. Because Okio's hungry ghost knows we killed three of his champions, he wishes us injury. The swords he made in life are the instruments of his vengeance, as you and I well know. The giant Uchida Ieoshi, vainly considering himself your rival in the Shogun's esteem, will no doubt consider it his victory if we both take new swords, perhaps swords made by the smiths of his own clan. It cannot be helped. My sword is already placed in retirement. You must do the same with yours.”

“Absurd!” Yoshinake looked agitated to the extreme.

“Okio haunts you already,” said Tomoe. “He will twist your normal stubbornness into something not sincere, but unreasonable.”

Yoshinake pulled his knees up under himself, taking a more formal position and sinking down like a child pouting.

“I have talked to the priests, a priestess, and a nun,” said Tomoe. “Each says the sword will be your undoing.”

“I am stronger than any ghost,” he said. “There is no finer sword in Naipon. I will not part with it.”

Silence was like death after he said this. Tomoe watched his face, but he would not look her in the eyes. She thought she saw something of madness behind his strict expression, as though the ghost of Okio were already firmly rooted in him, making the Rising Sun General act this way. Finally, Tomoe spoke:

“I expected this. Therefore I have already made arrangements for a journey. Since, as you say, I have my liberty, I may undertake any mission I please, and be away however long I desire.”

“It cannot be just now,” he said, looking at her at last. “There are no battles to be fought at the moment, it is true; but this is only the calm before the storm. While you were on your pilgrimage, the yamabushi and yamahoshi agreed to sign a treaty with each other and serve me. I mean to send you to the Karuga mountains to personally lead them on a march upon Kyoto. Our bid for ultimate power nears us, Tomoe! When the last leaves of autumn have fallen, the warlord Yoshinake will rise!”

He was excited by the news he was giving her, but Tomoe was entirely composed. She said, “I had meant to go to Karuga anyway; for upon twin mountains there, my mission lies. In the last year, you and I have been busy settling revolts; so I have been unable to keep my promise to bonze Shindo, to return the
shaku
from the head of his staff to his teacher in the yamahoshi monastery.”

“You have more than that in mind, I know; but as you do not wish that I ask what it is, I will not pursue it. Only, when the last leaves fall, you must begin your march with the martial Buddhists. My plan is for Kyoto to be already won when you arrive; for with those lords sworn to my service, plus my blood clan, and your own eastern relatives, we have army enough to secure a victory and possess the Mikado's city. The Shogun will hear of it and send a strong army against me at once. They will not expect the reinforcements you will bring from the north. After the shogunate forces are defeated, we begin the fortnight's march to Kamakura, with our multitudes of allies. If we travel as the wind, we may cut four days off that harsh trek, unseating the Shogun before he has news about our exact plan.”

“Before marching on Kamakura,” said Tomoe, “you must win an imperial decree. Otherwise we cannot legitimize such action against the Shogun.”

“The Mikado will make any decree I wish!” said Yoshinake. “He will be delighted that I free him from virtual imprisonment, and reward me with the commission I am seeking.”

“If he does not?”

Yoshinake fumed at the query. He said, “Then he will be obliged to act accordingly for the sake of his own life!”

Tomoe registered no emotion, although inwardly she was sharply affected by her husband's promise to threaten even the Mikado's safety, all for personal gain. Very quietly, she asked,

“Can you see true a threat against Amaterasu's godchild?”

There was no hesitation. “I can.”

“I see.” She looked away from him a moment, then met his eyes until he was forced to look away from her. She said, “I will do as you say. It will be a month before the last leaves fall. I have that much time to complete my personal mission.” She did not say that her mission was to save him from this madness, from possession by the hungry ghost. She stood to leave, awaiting no permission, being as she was told “at liberty.” But he stopped her with an unexpected gentle voice. He said,

“It is late. Surely your mission can wait for dawn.”

She hesitated in the doorway. Yoshinake's tone was plaintive. She had never heard him sound that way before. Perhaps something inside him recognized his own madness, causing him to beg for succor. Tomoe turned back to face him. With anger gone from his expression, Kiso Yoshinake was too beautiful to resist, and too much in need. She said, “Yes, it can wait that long.”

In the night, Tomoe had a dream she didn't like. She dreamed it was already morning and she had started out for the Karuga mountains. She was fully armored and rode a white horse. Behind her came a retinue of seven personal retainers, also on horses, also in armor; and there were at least a dozen servants on foot, carrying flags in their hands and boxes on their backs. Two were pounding drums. For a long time, in the dream, they went along like this, quite slowly.

Up ahead, on the side of the road, a woman dressed in a red kimono sat next to a fat, rustic god carved in stone. The god's face was pleasant. The woman wore the bell-rimmed hat of a fortuneteller. A veil hung from the hat so that it was not possible to see the woman's face. Tomoe Gozen did not realize who this was, because, in dreams, things are often like that.

Tomoe could think of no explanation for it seemed that the fortuneteller had been sitting on the right-hand side of the road a moment before, whereas she and the rustic god were now sitting on the left-hand side of the road. Besides that, the face of the rock-carved god was not as pleasant as Tomoe had first thought. As the woman samurai tried to figure these things out, she realized she was mistaken, for the fortuneteller was on the right-hand side of the road after all, although come to think of it, she was really on the left.

In the next moment, the fortuneteller was sitting on neither right nor left, but was standing in the middle of the road. The rustic god was not at all what it had seemed; instead, it was an ugly red oni devil. For some reason it wasn't as fierce as oni generally were. It crouched not as to attack, but as though cowering and afraid. When the fortuneteller limped boldly forward, leaning on a long staff, the oni devil withdrew.

It was rude for someone of low station to block a samurai's path, so Tomoe's retainers urged their horses ahead and surrounded the disrespectful woman. Nobody acted as though anything were unusual. Tomoe stopped her horse. The dozen servants stopped walking; the two stopped beating the drums. All watched.

Despite the fact that the seven retainers had penned the woman between their horses, somehow she was no longer there. She had slipped through them and was walking toward Tomoe. As she came, she took off her belled hat and threw it aside. In this way she revealed that one side of her face was horrible while the other side was unscarred and beautiful. The fortuneteller raised her fighting stick and held it above her head. When she twisted the stick in a certain way, spikes sprung out from both ends, making it a two-way spear. Tomoe still did not move, but only wondered. The fortuneteller spun around to face the seven retainers who were charging down upon her with bared swords.

The fortuneteller vanished. She instantly reappeared beside one of the retainers who had reined his horse aside. She stuck one point of her stick-cum-spear into the surprised man's throat, then lifted him off his horse with supernatural strength, throwing him at another rider. She disappeared again, before one of the other retainers could slice her. She appeared behind him, sticking him in the lower back. She lifted him into the air, holding him straight above her head while he thrashed and cried and rained blood upon her face. Then she threw him at another rider.

Now there were two men knocked from their horses but still alive. When they regained their feet, they attacked together. Her spear, sharp at both ends, took one and then the other. Once more she vanished, reappearing behind an attacker, killing him; and in like manner she killed the other two.

The servants who had been with Tomoe were gone. She had not seen them run away, but they must have done so. The horses of her retainers were also gone, but the bodies of the men still cluttered the road. In all this while, Tomoe had not moved, had not blinked her eyes. She kept staring at the monstrous woman who, alone and afoot, slew seven horsemen.

In Tomoe's obi there was no longsword, but only a short one; and beside it was a
shaku
from the head of a monk's staff. Tomoe took out the shaku and rattled its rings at the monster-woman. The monster-woman laughed. The laughter sounded as though it resounded from the depths of hell.

“You cannot frighten me with that!” said the monster-woman. Her voice was indeed a distant echo, however loud it might be; and it was not pretty, but the deep, grating voice of a powerful demon.

“I know why the shaku does not scare you,” said Tomoe. “You are the
naruka
at the bottom of the Land of Gloom, who may never walk the earth. I cannot send you back to Hell because you have never left it. It is unfortunate that you have chosen my friend Tsuki Izutsu as the instrument of your terror. But I will have you soon! I am coming through the gate of Mount Kuji with the golden naginata of Mount Kiji. I will duel you in your own country, and free Tsuki from possession!”

The deep, ugly voice of Naruka challenged spitefully, “Get me if you can!” She charged forward with the two-ended spear twirling over her head. Tomoe had happened to bring along some red beans, given to her by the priestess Shan On. Tomoe did not remember getting the beans, but all the same, they were from Shan On.

She threw the beans at Naruka.

The monster screamed at the beans and pointed one end of the spear at them. All the beans stopped in mid-air, and hung there as a barrier between Naruka and Tomoe. Tomoe said,

“Tell the swordsmith Okio I will come to see him, too. Also tell my good friend Ushii Yakushiji that I have a special gift for him, better than the spirit-toys and -money, better than the good rice wine. Tell him I am bringing him his heart's desire, so that he may be happier in eternity.”

The monster-woman growled like a bear, saying, “You think your enemies reside in hell? I am not your enemy! Okio is not! Ushii is not! Your enemy is … your enemy is …” Naruka began to choke, the eye on the ugly side of her face bulging. She grabbed at her throat as though something invisible were strangling her. Then, to save herself, Naruka vanished. The red oni devil scampered forward to the place where his companion had vanished, running around and around, whimpering like a forgotten puppy. At that moment, Tomoe Gozen awoke in the covers of her futon. She was sweating profusely. Kiso Yoshinake was looking at her, concern in his expression. He said,

“I did not know if I should wake you. You didn't make a sound.”

Tomoe could barely speak. When her heart slowed down to normal, she said, “It is good you let me sleep. A fortuneteller visited me in my dream. She informed me that I must go upon my mission alone, for whoever travels with me will die. Additionally, the dream informed me that I had better seek a special gift for a friend of mine, although I do not know what the gift should be.”

“If I can help,” said Yoshinake, but he did not finish. Tomoe said,

“Make love to me again.”

Yoshinake smiled. “It is the first time you said so. I was sometimes afraid I was a nuisance.”

“I have been cruel to my husband,” said Tomoe. Perhaps, she thought, she had never told Yoshinake that he was beautiful because of the interference of Okio's vindictive sword. Now, the sword retired, she could speak her true feelings. “You are pretty as a boy,” she said. “You remind me of a girlfriend I had when I was little.”