The Harsh Cry of the Heron (31 page)

Takeo looked on it
all with great pleasure. Maruyama was dear to him, for it was here that he had
spent the first few months of his marriage and had begun to put into practice
all that he had learned of government and agriculture from Lord Shigeru. The
domain had been nearly destroyed by the typhoon and earthquake of the first
year of his reign. Now, sixteen years on, it was rich and peaceful; its trade
thrived, its artists flourished, its children were all well fed, the wounds of
the civil war all apparently long since healed, and Shigeko would now take over
this domain and rule it in her own right. He knew she was worthy of it.

He had to keep reminding
himself he was here to meet the two men who might snatch it from her.

One of them, Lord
Kono, was accommodated like himself within the castle residence. Zenko was in
the most prestigious and luxurious residence just beyond the castle walls, once
the home of Sugita Haruki, the domain’s senior retainer, who with his sons had
taken his own life rather than agree to surrender the town to Arai Daiichi.
Takeo wondered if Zenko was aware of the house’s history of loyalty, and hoped
he might be influenced by the spirits of the steadfast dead.

Before the evening
meal, when he was to meet these potential enemies, he sent for Hiroshi to speak
with him privately. The younger man seemed calm and alert, yet filled with some
deeper emotion that Takeo could not fathom. After discussing the following day’s
procedures and ceremonies, Takeo thanked him for his diligence. ‘You have spent
many years in my family’s service. We must reward you. Will you stay in the
West? I will find an estate for you, and a wife. I had considered Lord Terada’s
granddaughter, Kaori. She is a fine young woman, a great friend of my daughter.’

‘To give me land in
Maruyama would be to take it from someone else, or from Lady Shigeko,’ Hiroshi
replied. ‘I have already mentioned to Taku: I will stay here while I am
required - but my real desire is to be permitted to retire to Terayama and
follow the Way of the Houou.’

Takeo stared at him
without replying immediately. Hiroshi met his eyes and glanced away. ‘As for
marriage  ...  I thank you for your concern, but I have truly no desire to
marry, and I have nothing to offer a wife.’

‘Any family in the
Three Countries would welcome you as a son-in-law. You do not value yourself
enough. If Terada Kaori does not please you, let me find someone else. 7s there
someone else?’

‘No one,’ Hiroshi
replied.

‘You know the great
affection my whole family holds you in,’ Takeo went on. ‘You have been like a
brother to my daughters; were we not so close in age I would regard you as a
son.’

‘I must beg you, Lord
Takeo, not to continue,’ Hiroshi pleaded. The colour had mounted to his neck.
He tried to hide his distress by smiling. ‘You are so content in your marriage,
you want us all to share the same state! But I feel called to another path. My
only request is to be allowed to follow it.’

‘I would never deny
you that!’ Takeo replied, and decided to drop the question of marriage for the
time being. ‘But I have one request to make of you: that you will accompany us
when we go to the capital next year. As you know, I am making this peaceful
visit at the request of the Masters of the Way of the Houou. I want you to be
part of it.’

‘It is a great
honour,’ Hiroshi replied. ‘Thank you.’

‘Shigeko is to come
with me, also on the Masters’ advice. You must take care of her safety, as you
always have done.’

Hiroshi bowed without
speaking.

‘My daughter has
suggested that we take the kirin: it will make an unparalleled gift for the
Emperor.’

‘You would give away
the kirin!’ Hiroshi exclaimed.

‘I would give away
anything if it preserves the peaceful existence of our country,’ Takeo replied.

Even Shigeko? Neither
of them spoke the words, yet they echoed in Takeo’s mind. He did not know that
he could answer yet.

Something from this
conversation must have alerted him, for in the moments when he was not occupied
with Lord Kono, Zenko and Hana he found himself watching Hiroshi and his
daughter during the evening meal with more attention than usual. They were both
somewhat silent and grave, hardly addressing or looking at each other. He could
not discern any particular feeling between them; he fancied Shigeko’s heart to
be untouched. But of course they were both adept at hiding their emotions.

The meal was formal
and elegant, the autumn specialities of the West: pine-tree mushrooms, tiny
crabs and prawns, salted and crunchy, chestnuts and ginkgo nuts, served on
lacquer trays and pale fawn pottery from Hagi. Kaede had helped restore the
residence to its former beauty: the mats were green-gold and sweet-smelling;
the floors and beams gleamed warmly; behind them stood screens decorated with
the birds and flowers of autumn, plovers with bush clover, quail with
chrysanthemums.

Takeo asked himself
what Kono thought of the surroundings, and how they compared with the Emperor’s
court.

He had apologized for
his wife’s absence, explaining her pregnancy, and had wondered if Zenko and
Hana were disappointed at this news, for it would delay plans for adoption of
either of their sons. He thought he discerned the slightest pause of discomfort
before Hana began effusive congratulations, expressing her joy and hoping for a
son for her sister. Takeo, in his turn, was careful to praise Sunaomi and
Chikara - it was not difficult, for he was genuinely fond of both boys.

Kono said
courteously, ‘I have received letters from Miyako. I understand you will visit
the Emperor next year.’

‘If he will receive
me, that is my intention,’ Takeo replied.

‘I believe he will
receive you. Everyone is curious about you. Even Lord Saga Hideki has expressed
his desire to meet you.’

Takeo was aware that
Zenko was hanging on every word, though his eyes were cast downwards. And if
they ambush and kill me there, Zenko will be waiting in the West, will advance
with the Emperor’s blessing . . .

‘Indeed Lord Saga is
thinking about some sport, or contest. He writes to me that rather than
shedding the blood of thousands of men, he would like to meet Lord Otori in
some game - dog hunting, perhaps. It is his passion.’

Takeo smiled. ‘Lord
Saga has no knowledge of our remote affairs. He cannot be aware that my
crippled hand prevents me from drawing a bow.’ Luckily, he could not help
thinking, for I have never had much skill with the bow.

‘Well, some other
contest, perhaps. Your wife’s confinement will prevent her from accompanying
you?’

‘Naturally. But my daughter
is to come with me.’

Shigeko raised her
head and looked at her father. Their eyes met and she smiled at him.

‘Lady Shigeko is not
yet betrothed?’ Kono inquired.

‘No, not yet,’ Takeo
answered.

‘Lord Saga is
recently widowed.’ Kono’s voice was cool and neutral.

‘I am sorry to hear
it.’ Takeo was wondering if he could bear to give his daughter to such a man -
yet it could be a desirable alliance, and if it were to ensure the peace of the
Three Countries . . .

Shigeko spoke, her
voice clear and firm. T look forward to meeting Lord Saga. Perhaps he will
accept me as my father’s substitute in any contest.’

‘Lady Shigeko is
highly skilled with the bow,’ Hiroshi added.

Takeo recalled in
amazement Gemba’s words: There will he some contest in Miyako . . . your
daughter should also come. She must perfect her horse riding, using the bow . .
. How had Gemba known this?

He looked across the
room at Gemba, who was seated a little distance away next to his brother Kahei.
Gemba did not meet his gaze, but a faint smile appeared on his plump face.
Kahei looked more stern, masking his disapproval.

Yet this corroborates
the Masters’ advice, Takeo thought swiftly. I will visit Miyako. I will accept
Saga’s challenge, whatever it is. We will settle matters between us. There will
be no war.

Kono seemed as
surprised as Takeo, though for a different reason. ‘I had not realized women in
the Three Countries were so talented, or so bold,’ he said finally.

‘Like Lord Saga,
perhaps you do not know us well, yet,’ Shigeko replied. ‘All the more reason
why we must visit the capital, so that you come to understand us.’ She spoke
with courtesy, yet no one could miss the authority that lay behind her words.
She showed no sign of unease at meeting the son of her mother’s kidnapper, nor
did she seem in the least intimidated by him. Takeo gazed on her in barely
concealed admiration. Her long hair fell loose around her shoulders; her back
was straight, her skin almost luminescent against the pale yellow and gold of
her robe, with its brilliant maple leaves. He was reminded of the first time he
had seen Lady Maruyama Naomi: he had thought her like Jato, the sword, her
serene beauty masking her strength. Now he saw the same strength in his
daughter, and felt a kind of release deep within him. Whatever happened to him,
he had an heir. All the more reason to ensure the Three Countries would be kept
intact for her to inherit.

‘I look forward to it
greatly!’ Kono exclaimed. ‘I hope I may be released from Lord Otori’s
hospitality to return to Miyako before your visit, and to inform His Divine
Majesty of all I have learned here.’ He leaned forward and said with some
fervour, ‘I can assure you all my reports will be in your favour.’

Takeo bowed slightly
in assent, wondering how much of this speech was sincerity, how much flattery -
and what intrigues Kono and Zenko might have been hatching together. He hoped
Taku would know more, and wondered where he was, why he was not present at the
meal. Was Zenko, aggrieved at Taku’s presence and surveillance, deliberately
excluding his brother? And he was anxious to hear about Maya. He could not help
wondering if Taku’s absence were not connected to her: she was in some trouble;
she had run away . . . He realized his mind was wandering. He had not heard
Kono’s last few sentences. He forced himself to concentrate on the present.

There seemed no
reason to detain the nobleman any longer in the West; indeed, now might be the
best time to send him home with his mind full of the prosperity of the domains,
the loyalty of the Seishuu - and the beauty, character and strength of his
daughter. But he would have liked to have heard for himself, from Taku, further
details of Kono’s sojourn in the West, and of the nobleman’s relationship with
Zenko and Hana.

The festivities
continued until late in the evening: musicians played the three-stringed lute
and the harp, while from the town the sounds of drumming and singing echoed
across the still waters of river and moat. Takeo slept fitfully, his mind still
full of anxieties for his daughters, for Kaede and the unborn child, and woke
early, conscious of the pain in his hand and a dull ache in most of his body.
He called for Minoru to be wakened, and while he drank tea went through what
had been said the previous night, checking that everything had been recorded
faithfully, for Minoru had been concealed behind a screen throughout the
evening. Since Kono might be permitted to leave, arrangements should be made.

‘Is Lord Kono to
travel by ship or land?’ Minoru asked.

‘By ship, if he is to
arrive before winter,’ Takeo replied. ‘There must already be snow on the High
Cloud Range: he will not get there before the passes are closed. He may go by
road to Hofu and embark from there.’

‘So he will travel
with Lord Otori as far as Yamagata?’

‘Yes, I suppose he
should. We will have to put on another display for him there. You had better
prepare Lady Miyoshi.’

Minoru bowed.

‘Minora, you have
been present at all my meetings with Lord Kono. His attitude towards me last
night seemed changed in some way, did you not think so?’

‘He seemed more
conciliatory,’ Minoru replied. ‘He must have observed Lord Otori’s popularity,
the devotion and loyalty of the people. At Yamagata I am sure Lord Miyoshi will
explain the size and strength of our armies. Lord Kono must take back to the
Emperor the conviction that the Three Countries will not be relinquished
easily, and . . .’

‘Go on,’ Takeo
prompted him.

‘It is not my place
to say it, but Lady Shigeko is unmarried, and Lord Kono will surely prefer to
negotiate a marriage rather than start an unwinnable war. If he is to be the
go-between, he must have the bride’s father’s trust and approval.’

‘Well, we will
continue to flatter him and endeavour to impress him. Is there any word from
Muto Taku? I had expected him last night.’

‘He sent apologies to
his brother, saying he was unwell - nothing more,’ Minoru replied. ‘Shall I
make contact with him?’

‘No, there must be
some reason for his non-appearance. As long as we know that he is still alive.’

‘Surely no one would
attack Lord Muto, here in Maruyama?’

‘Taku has offended
many, in service to me,’ Takeo said. ‘Neither of us can ever be truly safe.’

The banners of the
Maruyama, the Otori and the Seishuu fluttered above the horse ground in front
of the castle. The moat was packed with flat-bottomed boats filled with
onlookers. Silk pavilions had been erected for those of higher class, and
tasselled emblems hung from their roofs and from poles placed around them.
Takeo sat on a raised platform within one of these pavilions, cushions and
carpets strewn over its floor. On his right was Kono, on his left Zenko, and a
little behind Zenko, Hana.