The Harsh Cry of the Heron (47 page)

Takeo and his retinue
met up with Kahei on an upland plain just below the pass. It was still cold,
the grass splashed with white in places with the last of the snow, the water in
streams and pools icy. A small border post was established here, though not
many travellers made the journey from the East by land, preferring to sail from
Akashi. The High Cloud Range provided a natural barrier behind which the Three
Countries had sheltered for years, ignored, until now, by the rest of the
country, neither ruled nor protected by their nominal Emperor.

The encampment was
orderly and well prepared: the horses on their lines, men well armed and
trained. The plain had been transformed, with palisades erected in arrow-head
formation along each flank and storehouses swiftly constructed to protect the
provisions from weather and animals.

‘There is enough room
at the head of the plain for bowmen,’ Kahei said. ‘But we also have sufficient
firearms when the foot soldiers come up from Inuyama to defend the road for miles
behind us, as well as the surrounding countryside. We will set up a series of
blockades. But if’ they fall out into the surrounding terrain, we will use
horses and swords.’

He added, ‘Do we have
any idea what weapons they have?’

‘They have had barely
a year to acquire or forge firearms and train men to use them,’ Takeo replied. ‘We
must be superior in that. We must have bowmen too: firearms are too unreliable
in the rain or wind. But I hope to be able to send messages to you. I will find
out all I can - except that I must at all times appear to be seeking peace; I
must not give them any excuse to attack. All our preparations are in defence of
the Three Countries; we do not threaten anyone beyond our borders. For this
same reason we will not fortify the pass itself. You must remain on the plain
in a purely defensive position. We cannot be seen to provoke Saga or challenge
the Emperor.’

‘It will be strange
actually to set eyes on the Emperor,’ Kahei remarked. ‘I envy you: we hear
about him from childhood; he is descended from the gods, yet for years I for
one did not believe he actually existed.’

‘The Otori clan is
said to descend from the imperial, family,’ Gemba said. ‘For when Takeyoshi was
given Jato, one of the Emperor’s concubines, pregnant at the time with his
child, was also bestowed on him, to be his wife.’ He smiled at Takeo. ‘So you
share the same blood.’

‘Somewhat diluted
after so many years,’ Takeo said light-heartedly. ‘But maybe since he is my
relative he will look on me kindly. Many years ago Shigeru told me it was the
weakness of the Emperor that allowed warlords like lida to flourish unchecked.
It is my duty therefore to do all I can to strengthen his position. He is the
legitimate ruler of the Eight Islands.’ He looked out towards the pass and the
ranges beyond, which were turning deep purple in the evening light. The sky was
a pale blueish white, and the first stars were appearing. ‘I know so little of
the rest of them: how they are governed, if they prosper, if their people are
content. These are all matters to find out about - and discuss.’

‘It is Saga Hideki
with whom you will have to discuss them,’ Gemba said. ‘For he controls
two-thirds of the country now, including the Emperor himself.’

‘But we will never
allow him to control the Three Countries,’ Kahei declared.

Takeo did not
disagree openly with Kahei, but privately, as always, he had been thinking
deeply about the future of his country and how he might best secure it. He had
overseen its recovery from the destruction and loss of life of the civil war
and the earthquake. While he had no intention of handing it over to Zenko, he
also had no desire to see it torn apart and fought over again. He did not
believe the Emperor was a deity to be worshipped, but he recognized the
essential place of the imperial throne as a symbol of unity, and was prepared
to submit to the Emperor’s will to preserve peace and increase the unity of the
whole country.

But I will not give
up the Three Countries to Zenko. He returned over and again to this conviction.
I will never see him rule in my place.

They crossed the pass
as the moon waned, and before it was full again approached Sanda, a small town
on the road between Miyako and Akashi. As they descended into the valleys, as
well as surveying their return route -and where a small force of men might turn
and fight a pursuer if necessary - Takeo studied the state of the villages, the
systems of agriculture, the health of the children, often riding off the road
into the surrounding districts. He was amazed to find that he was not unknown
to the villagers: they reacted as if a hero from a legend had suddenly appeared
among them. At night he heard blind singers recount tales of the Otori: Shigeru’s
betrayal and death, the fall of Inuyama, the battle of Asagawa, the retreat to
Katte Jinja and the capture of the city of Hagi. And new songs were made up
about the kirin, for it was waiting for them at Sanda, with Lord Otori’s
beautiful daughter.

The land had been
badly neglected: he was shocked by the half-ruined houses, the uncultivated
fields. He learned on the way, by questioning the farmers, that all the local
domains had been fought over savagely in the last stand against Saga before
they capitulated to him two years earlier. Since then, compulsory armed service
and labour had sapped the villages of manpower.

‘But at least we have
peace now, and we can thank Lord Saga for that,’ one older man told him. He
wondered at what cost, and would have liked to have asked them more, but as
they approached the town he felt it was a mistake to appear too familiar, and
rejoined his retinue in a more formal manner. Many of the people followed him,
hoping to see the kirin with their own eyes, and by the time they reached Sanda
they were accompanied by a huge crowd, made even larger by the townspeople who
flocked out to meet him, waving banners and tassels, dancing and beating drums.
Sanda was a town that had grown up as a marketplace and had no castle or
fortifications. It showed signs of damage from the war, but most of the burned
shops and dwellings had been rebuilt. There were several large lodging houses
near the temple; in the main street in front of them Takeo was met by a small
group of warriors carrying banners marked with the twin mountain peaks of the
Saga clan.

‘Lord Otori,’ said
their leader, a large, thick-set man who reminded Takeo unpleasantly of Abe,
lida’s chief henchman. ‘I am Okuda Tadamasa. This is my eldest son, Tadayoshi.
Our great lord and Emperor’s general bids you welcome. We have been sent to
escort you to him.’ He spoke formally and courteously, but before Takeo could
reply Tenba whinnied loudly, and above the tile-roofed wall of the garden of
the largest inn the kirin’s fan-eared, huge-eyed head on its long patterned
neck appeared, causing the crowd to shout in one excited voice. The kirin’s
eyes and nose seemed to search for its old companion. It saw Tenba and its face
softened as though it smiled; and it seemed to the crowd as if it smiled at
Lord Otori.

Even Okuda could not
help glancing towards it. An expression of amazement flitted briefly across his
face. He clenched his muscles in an effort to control himself, his eyes
popping. His son, a young man about eighteen years old, was grinning openly.

‘I thank you and Lord
Saga,’ Takeo said calmly, ignoring the excitement as if a kirin were as
ordinary a creature as a cat. ‘I hope you will honour me by eating with my
daughter and myself this evening.’

‘I believe Lady
Maruyama is waiting inside for you,’ Okuda said. ‘It will give me the greatest
pleasure.’

They all dismounted.
The grooms ran forward to take the horses’ reins. Maids hurried to the veranda’s
edge with bowls of water to wash the travellers’ feet. The innkeeper himself
appeared. An important figure in the town’s government, he was sweating with nervousness;
he bowed to the ground, then leaped to his feet, organized the maids and
menservants with many hissed instructions and much hand-flapping, and ushered
Takeo and Gemba into the main guest-room.

It was a pleasant
enough room, though far from lavish. The matting was new and sweet-smelling,
and the inner doors opened onto a small garden which contained some ordinary
shrubs and one unusual black rock, like a miniature double-peaked mountain.

Takeo gazed on it,
listening to the bustle of the inn all around him, the anxious voice of the
owner, the activity in the kitchen as the evening meal was prepared, Tenba’s
whinny from the stables and finally his daughter’s voice, her step outside. He
turned as the door slid open.

‘Father! I could not
wait to see you!’

‘Shigeko,’ he said,
and then with great affection, ‘Lady Maruyama!’

Gemba had been
sitting in the shade on the inner veranda. He now rose to his feet and echoed
Takeo. ‘Lady Maruyama!’

‘Lord Miyoshi! I am
so pleased to see you.’

‘Hmm, hmm,’ he said,
smiling broadly and humming with pleasure. ‘You look well.’

Indeed, Takeo
thought, his daughter was not only at the peak of youthful beauty but radiated
the power and confidence of a mature woman, of a ruler.

‘And your charge
arrived in good health, I see,’ Takeo said.

‘I have just come
back from the kirin’s enclosure. She was so happy to see Tenba. It was quite
touching. But are you well? You have had a more difficult journey. You are not
in too much pain?’

‘I am well,’ he
replied. ‘In this mild weather the pain is bearable. Gemba has been the best of
companions, and your horse is a marvel.’

‘You will have had no
news from home?’ Shigeko said.

‘That’s right, but
since I have not been expecting any the silence has not concerned me. But where
is Hiroshi?’ he asked.

‘He is overseeing the
horses and the kirin,’ Shigeko replied calmly. ‘With Sakai Masaki, who came
with us from Maruyama.’

Takeo studied her
face, but it revealed no emotion. After a moment he asked, ‘Was there any
message from Taku at Akashi?’

Shigeko shook her
head. ‘Hiroshi was expecting something, but none of the Muto people there had
heard from him. Can there be something wrong?’

‘I don’t know; he has
been silent for so long.’

‘I saw him and Maya
briefly in Hofu before we left. Maya came to see the kirin. She seemed well,
more settled, more accepting of her gifts and more able to control them.’

‘You see this
possession as a gift?’ he said, surprised.

‘It will be,’ Gemba
said, and he and Shigeko smiled at each other.

‘So tell me, my
Masters,’ Takeo said, masking with irony his slight annoyance that they should
exclude him. ‘Should I be worrying about Taku and Maya?’

‘Since you can do
nothing for either of them from here,’ Gemba explained, ‘there is no point in
wasting your energy on worrying about them. Bad news travels fast: you will
hear it soon enough.’

Takeo recognized the
wisdom of this, and tried to put the matter from his mind. But in the nights
that followed, as they travelled on towards the capital, he often saw his twin
daughters in dreams, and in that other shadow world he was aware that they were
undergoing some strange ordeal. Maya shone like gold, drawing all light from
Miki, who in his dreams seemed as fine and sharp- ened as a dark sword. Once he
saw them as the cat and its shadow: he called to them, but though their heads
turned they took no notice of him but raced away along a pale road on silent
feet until they were out of earshot and beyond his protection. He woke from
these dreams with an aching sense of loss that his daughters were no longer
children, that even his baby son would eventually grow to manhood and challenge
him; that parents bring children into this world only to be supplanted by them,
that the price of life is death.

Each day the night
was shorter, and as the light strengthened each morning Takeo, returning from
the dream world, regathered his determination and his strength to deal with the
task that faced him, to dazzle his opponents and win their favour, to retain
his country and preserve the Otori clan, above all to prevent war.

The journey continued
without incident. It was the best time of year to travel, the days lengthening
towards the solstice, the air clear and mild. Okuda seemed deeply impressed by
everything - by the kirin, by the Maruyama horses, by Shigeko, who chose to
ride alongside her father. He questioned Takeo closely about the Three
Countries, their trade, their administration, their ships, and Takeo’s truthful
answers made his eyes pop even more.

News of the kirin had
gone ahead of them, and as they approached the capital the crowds became
thicker as the townspeople poured out to welcome it. They made a day’s outing
of it, bringing their wives and children in brightly coloured clothes,
spreading mats and erecting scarlet sunshades and white tents, eating and
drinking merrily. Takeo felt all this festivity as a blessing on his journey,
dispelling the bad omen of the executions at Inuyama, and this impression was
reinforced by Lord Kono, who sent invitations to Takeo to visit him on their
first night in the capital.

The city lay in a
bowl on the hills; a great lake to the north supplied it with fresh water and
much fish, and two rivers flowed through it, crossed by several beautiful
bridges. It was built like the ancient cities of Shin, on a rectangle with
avenues running north to south, crossed by streets. The Imperial Palace was
situated at the head of the main avenue, next to the Great Shrine.