The Harsh Cry of the Heron (73 page)

Later I realized that
what you had been told had been part of a long intrigue to isolate Takeo at the
temple, where we have all sworn a vow to take no life, and where we are unarmed.

Indeed, the first
thing Takeo did was to remove Jato from his belt.

‘I’ve come to do some
painting,’ he said as he gave the sword to me. ‘You looked after this for me
once before. Now I will leave it here until my daughter Shigeko comes for it.
It was placed in her hands by the Emperor himself.’

And then he said, ‘I
will never kill again. Nothing in my life should gladden me right now, but this
does.’

We went together to
Lord Shigeru’s grave. Takeo spent the rest of the day there. Usually there are
many pilgrims, but because of the rumours of war it was deserted. He told me
afterwards he was concerned that people would think he had abandoned them, but
it was impossible for him to fight against you. I myself was undergoing the
greatest conflict I had ever experienced since I first made the vow never to
kill again. I could not bear his serene acceptance of death. All my human
emotions made me want to urge him to defend himself, to destroy Zenko, and you
too, I must confess. I struggled with this night and day.

Takeo himself seemed
to have no conflict. He was almost light-hearted, though I knew he also
experienced great sorrow. He was grieving for the loss of his baby son, and, of
course, the rupture with you, but he had relinquished power to Lady Shigeko and
he had put aside all desires. Gradually this heightened mixture of emotions
overtook all of us at the temple. Everything we did, from the mundane chores of
everyday life to the sacred moments of chanting and meditation, seemed touched
by an awareness of the divine.

Takeo devoted himself
to painting; he made many studies and sketches of birds, and the day before his
death completed the missing panel on our screens. I hope you will see it one
day. The sparrows are so lifelike that the temple cats are deceived, and are
often seen stalking them. Every day I half expect to see them flown.

He was also greatly
comforted by the presence of his daughter, Miki. Haruka brought her from Hagi.

T could think of
nowhere else to go,’ Haruka told me. We had come to know each other well, years
ago when Takeo was fighting for his life after the earthquake and the fight
with Kotaro. I like her very much. She is resourceful and intelligent, and we
are all very grateful to her for bringing Miki.

Miki had been struck
dumb by the terrible things she had seen. She followed her father like his
shadow. Takeo questioned her about her sister, but Miki did not know where she
was; she could not speak to him other than by gestures.

At this point Makoto
laid down the brush for a while, flexing his fingers and gazing out onto the
beauty and tranquillity of the gardens. Should he tell Lady Otori what Miki had
written down for her father and all that she had revealed to him about Maya and
the baby’s death? Or should the truth remain hidden with the dead? He took up
the brush again, the new ink making the characters dark.

On the morning of his
death, Takeo and Miki were in the garden. Takeo had started a new painting - of
his horse, Tenba. Gemba and I had just come out to join them. It was around the
first half of the Hour of the Horse in the second quarter of the eighth month,
very hot. The showers of noise of the cicadas seemed even more intense than
usual. There are two paths leading up to the temple: the main one from the inn
to the temple gates, and the one that follows the course of the stream, more
overgrown and narrow, leading straight into the garden. It was up this path
that the Kikuta came.

Takeo heard them
before anyone else, of course, and seemed to know who they were immediately. I
had never seen Akio, though I knew all about him, and I had known about the boy
for years, and about the prophecy. I am sorry that I knew and you did not. If
your husband had told you years ago, no doubt everything would have turned out
differently, but he chose not to; in this way we build our own fate.

I saw two men come
swiftly into the garden; beside the younger one loped a huge cat, black, white
and gold, the largest one I have ever seen. For a moment I thought it was a
lion.

Takeo said quietly, ‘It
is Akio; take Miki away.’

None of us moved,
except Miki, who stood and came closer to her father.

The young man was
holding a weapon. I recognized it as a firearm, though it was much smaller than
the weapons the Otori use, and Akio held a pan full of smouldering charcoal. I
remember the smell of the smoke and the way it went straight upwards in the
still air.

Takeo was staring at
the younger man. I realized this was his son - it was the first time father and
son had set eyes on each other. They were not really alike, yet there was a
similarity, in the texture of the hair, the colour of the skin.

Takeo was completely
calm, and this seemed to unnerve the young man - Hisao, he is called, though we
will change his name, I think. Akio was shouting at him. ‘Do it! Do it!’ But
Hisao seemed frozen. He slowly put his hand on the cat’s head, and looked
upwards as if someone was speaking to him. The hairs stood up on the back of my
neck. I couldn’t see anything, but Gemba whispered, T can sense spirits of the
departed here.’

Hisao said to Takeo, ‘My
mother says you are my father.’

Takeo said, T am.’

Akio was shouting, ‘He’s
lying. I am your father. Kill him. Kill him!’

Takeo said, T ask
your mother to forgive me, and you too.’

Hisao laughed
incredulously. T have hated you all my life!’

Akio shrieked, ‘He is
the Dog - he must pay for the death of Kikuta Kotaro and so many of the Tribe.’

Hisao raised the
firearm. Takeo said clearly, ‘Don’t try to stop him; don’t harm him.’

Suddenly the garden
was full of birds, golden plumed; the light was dazzling. Hisao cried, T can’t
do it. She won’t let me.’

Several things
happened at once. Gemba and I have tried to piece it all together but we both
saw slightly different things. Akio seized the firearm from Hisao, and pushed
him aside. The cat leaped at Akio, fastening its claws on his face. Miki
screamed, ‘Maya!’ There was a flash and an explosion that deafened us, the
smell of burned flesh, and fur.

The weapon had
misfired in some way, had exploded. Akio’s hands were blown off, and he bled to
death within moments. Hisao was stunned, and had burn marks on his face, but
otherwise seemed unharmed. The cat was dying. Miki ran to it, calling her
sister’s name; I have never seen a more awe-inspiring sight: Miki seemed to
become a sword. The light blinded our eyes as it reflected from her. Gemba and
I both had a sense of something being severed. The cat dissolved as Miki threw
herself on it, and when we could see again Miki was holding her dead sister in
her arms. We believe Miki saved Maya from being a cat spirit for ever, and we
pray for her rebirth in a better life, where twins are not hated and feared.

Takeo ran straight to
them, and embraced the dead girl and the living. His eyes were bright, like
jewels. Then he went to Hisao and lifted him from the ground and embraced him,
or so we thought. In fact he was reaching inside the boy’s jacket for the
hidden weapons of the Tribe. He found what he was looking for, drew it out and
closed his son’s hands over the handle. He did not stop looking at him as he
drove the knife into his own belly, cutting and turning it. Hisao’s eyes were
glazing, and when Takeo released his hands and began to stagger, Hisao’s legs
also buckled as he fell into the Kikuta sleep.

Takeo dropped to his
knees, next to his sleeping son.

Death from a belly
wound is inevitable, hideous and lingering. I said to Gemba, ‘Bring Jato,’ and
when he returned with the sword, I put it to its last act of service to its
master. I was afraid I would fail him, but the sword knew its purpose and
leaped in my hand.

The air was full of
birds calling in alarm, and white and gold feathers fluttered to the ground,
covering the pool of blood that flowed from him.

It was the last time
we saw the houou. They have deserted the forest. Who knows when they will
return?

At this point the
abbot felt grief overwhelm him again. He gave way to it briefly, honouring his
dead friend with tears. But there was one more matter to write about. He lifted
the brush again.

Two of Takeo’s
children remain with us. We will keep Hisao here. Gemba believes that out of
such great evil a great spirit can be born. We will see. Gemba takes him into
the forest; he has an affinity with its wild animals and a deep understanding
of them. He has begun to make small carvings of them, which we see as a good
sign. We feel Miki needs to be with her mother if she is to recover, and I ask
you to send for her. Haruka can bring her to you. She is already a great
spirit, but she is very fragile. She needs you.

He looked out into
the garden again and saw the girl about whom he was writing, silent, so thin
she looked like a ghost herself. She spent many hours there, in the place where
her father and sister had died.

He rolled the letter
and put it with all the others he had written to Kaede. He had repeated the
story many times, in many variations, sometimes revealing Maya’s secret,
sometimes putting noble words of farewell, to Kaede, to himself, into Takeo’s
mouth. This stark unem-bellished version he felt came closest to the truth.
However, he could not send it, for he did not know where Kaede was, or even if
she was still alive.

The leaves had
fallen; the trees were bare; the last of the migrating birds had crossed the
sky in long skeins like brushstrokes when Kaede came to Terayama at the full
moon of the eleventh month.

She brought the two
young boys with her, Sunaomi and Chikara.

‘I am glad to see
Sunaomi here,’ Gemba said when he came to welcome them. He had met Sunaomi the
previous year, when the boy had seen the houou. ‘It was your husband’s wish
that he should come to us.’

‘There is nowhere
else for them to go,’ Kaede replied. She did not want to say more in front of
the children. ‘Go with Lord Gemba,’ she urged them. ‘He will show you where you
are to live.’

‘Your daughter has
gone into the forest with Haruka,’ Gemba said.

‘My daughter is here?’
Kaede said. She felt faint, and continued with difficulty, ‘Which daughter?’

‘Miki,’ Gemba
replied. ‘Lady Otori, come and sit down. You have made a long journey; the day
is cold. I will fetch Makoto and he will tell you everything.’

Kaede realized she
was on the verge of breaking down. For weeks she had been numb with grief and
despair. She had retreated into the ice-like state which had sustained her when
she was young and alone. Here in this place everything recalled Takeo with
fresh clarity. She had, unconsciously, held the illusion that he would be here,
even though she had heard the news of his death. Now she saw how foolish that
illusion was: he was not here; he was dead, and she would never see him again.

The temple bell
sounded, and she was aware of the tread of feet across wooden floors. Gemba
said, ‘Let us go to the hall. I will send for a brazier, and some tea. You look
frozen.’

His kindness undid
her completely. The tears poured from her eyes. Chikara began to sob too.

Sunaomi said,
fighting back his own tears, ‘Don’t cry, brother. We have to be brave.’

‘Come,’ Gemba said. ‘We
will get you something to eat, and our abbot will talk to Lady Otori.’

They were standing in
the cloister of the main courtyard. Kaede saw Makoto come from the opposite
side, almost running across the gravel path between the leafless cherry trees.
The expression on his face was more than she could bear. She covered her face
with her sleeve.

Makoto took her other
arm and supported her, as he led her with great gentleness into the hall where
the Sesshu paintings were kept.

‘Let us sit here for
a few moments,’ he said. Their breath was white. A monk came with a brazier,
and shortly afterwards returned with tea, but neither of them drank.

Struggling to speak,
Kaede said, ‘I must tell you first about the boys. Zenko was surrounded and
defeated by Saga Hideki and Miyoshi Kahei a month ago. My eldest daughter,
Shigeko, is betrothed to Lord Saga. They will marry at the New Year. The whole
of the Three Countries passes to Lord Saga, and will be united with the rest of
the Eight Islands under the Emperor. Takeo left a will stating his conditions
and Saga has agreed to everything. Shigeko will rule the Three Countries
equally with him. Maruyama will be inherited by her female heirs, and Saga has
promised nothing will change in the way we have governed.’

She fell silent for a
moment.

‘It is a good
outcome,’ Makoto said gently. ‘Takeo’s vision will be preserved and it must
mean the end of warlords fighting among themselves.’

‘Zenko and Hana were
ordered to take their own lives,’ Kaede continued. Speaking of these matters
had helped her regain her self-control a little. ‘Before her death, my sister
killed their youngest son rather than leave him. But I was able to persuade
Lord Saga through my daughter to spare Sunaomi and Chikara, on condition they
be brought up here. Saga is ruthless and pragmatic: they will be safe as long
as no one tries to use them as figureheads. He will have them killed if there
is any sign of that. They will lose their name, of course: the Arai are to be
destroyed. Foreigners are to be expelled and their religion crushed. I suppose
the Hidden will go underground again.’